We were moved outside while Lestrade's men worked. They wouldn't find anything, I was sure of it. He was smart; so much smarter than them. I told the yard all those years ago that he survived. No one wanted to believe me. John held me outside Speedy's under the canopy, the rain falling over, but not on us. I watched people collect around the caution tape, which wrapped around my car and attached itself both to Speedy's and the other side of 221B. As people began to notice the two of us, John and I stepped inside. We seated ourselves and relished in the warmth of the dine. I had been shivering outside in the cool rain. The waitress in charge of our small table waddled over, pregnant and ready to pop, and inquired about tea. John nodded vigorously, but I instead ordered a coffee. It was some subconscious part of me reminding me about America, the land of the free. Freedom is all I really wanted...
"Thank you," John said, opening the menu the waitress gave him. We were both quite calm for two people who just witnessed such a gruesome scene. I thought harder about it, though, and realize that that's precisely what makes us so alike. Me being a cop and him having been in the army and then working with Sherlock;our careers and pasts are interconnected in small ways. Though I barely know this man, I could say I definitely say I understand him. We both lost things that we still have not recovered from. Our beverages arrived just as Lestrade and his cohorts came in. He pulled up a chair while his posse stayed behind toward the door.
"That was the girl from the kidnapping case. Did you know her at all?" I fished the note out of my pocket when Greg said this, handing it to him as I added sugar to my coffee. I knew it was the girl. I remembered hearing about it from the intern at the yard. When he finished reading he looked up at me, searching for answers I didn't have. He was after me, sure, but I had no idea where to find him or who he was. The door opened and Mycroft came strolling in, umbrella in hand. We all watched him move cautiously over to our little group. He looked at us each separately, scouring our souls it seemed.
"We have to go," He spoke at us, clearly meaning John and I. I was confused, but John stood and put money on the table, taking my hand.
"Just listen to him," John said. I blinked. What were the two conspiring about?
"No, no, no, Mycroft," Lestrade said, making the tall man stop mind-stride and swivel to face Greg. His brow rose.
"You're not just gonna take her like that and make her disappear into some black bag. This is my case and I need her," Greg spoke angrily. Mycroft only stared and Greg swore under his breath, turning.
"I apologize," Mycroft said, leaving everyone baffled. Greg turned fully around when hearing that and they shared a look before Mycroft went to leave again, us in tow.
"Where exactly are we going?" I tried asking, but as soon as we climbed into his black car after him, a black bag found its way over my head and someone bent me forward to tie my hands.
"REALLY Mycroft?" I spouted, infuriated. I heard him sigh and I shook my head.
"It is for your own safety, Myra. You must understand," He said. I struggled against the ziptie, but it was to to avail. I could not free myself.
"Oh, I understand perfectly. I understand that if you don't explain right now, I swear on our mother that I will hurt you," I sputtered.
"Myra, dear, don't make idle threats. It's unbecoming of you," He said as the car began to drive away.
"John?" I said.
"Yes?" He replied.
"What the hell is going on," I asked him, hoping he would give me something; anything.
"I'm sorry. It's to make you safe," He answered. I sighed myself and gave up. I would soon find out, then.
This is in answer to some questions of Mystrade:
HOLY HECK YES I WILL BE!
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