Family Secrets
An Hope Holmes Adventure
Faith Robin
'Wait a minute,' I thought, 'Where's father?' I wondered, my stomach tightening. I looked over at Watson. He scratched his mustache; he had a somewhat worried look on his face. 'He's keeping something from me,' I thought sneaking a glance over at Mycroft. His face was still embedded in the newspaper. 'I wonder why Watson is acting guilty,' I thought to myself. I finished eating and I leaned back into the chair, studying Watson. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts drift. Mycroft laid his newspaper down and sighed.
"Hope?" he asked interrupting my thoughts. I opened my eyes and spoke.
"Yes Uncle Mycroft?" I asked seeing the worry on his face.
"There's something that we need to discuss," Mycroft said, standing and moving to his easy chair. His face was worried and serious. I pushed myself from the table, Watson had moved himself to the other easy chair, and I stood and moved myself to the sofa. I arranged myself in a ladylike fashion and sat waiting for the news.
"Hope, I'm sending you away," Mycroft said getting to the point.
"Okay any particular reason why?"I asked my suspicions rising.
"Because I'm your Uncle and that's what's going to happen," Mycroft said sharply.
"Where's my father?" I asked quietly.
"I'm not sure," Mycroft said his back to me.
"What do you mean?" I asked turning pale.
"He went out looking for you and he hasn't come back yet," Dr. Watson said gently looking concerned.
"But that's not unusual, is it? I mean he does this often," I said trying to keep myself from fainting/panicking.
"Yes it's not completely unusual for Sherlock," Mycroft said aloud.
"Dr. Watson, what was he wearing when he left?" I asked looking at him my eyes pleading for answers.
"I'm sorry, but I can give you very little details on that, he left in such a hurry," Watson said apologetically.
"Uncle Mycroft you wouldn't happen to have a pad of paper and a pencil handy would you?"I asked going with the theory that was beginning to form in my head. Silently he handed me a pencil and a pad of paper. "Thank you," I said taking them. I closed my eyes and began to sketch out a man that I remembered seeing. Mycroft come over and peeked over my shoulder. I ignored him, continuing to sketch. I squeezed my eyes shut in deep memory. After a few more seconds I opened my eyes and looked down at my handiwork. It was the man that had watched me as I escaped from the enemy. I showed the sketch to Dr. Watson. "Is that what he looked like?" I asked holding my breath, hoping that it wasn't true. Dr. Watson stared at the sketch and then stared at me.
"Yyyes, but how did you know?" he asked stuttering, staring at me. Without a word I laid the pad and pencil aside and buried my face into my hands. My world turned black again as I fainted onto the head of the sofa.
Holmes woke some hours later. He had been drugged. The surgical light was still on. His head ached, he grunted against the leather and the gag that they had put on him to keep him quiet. 'I've got to get out of here,' he thought. 'At least Hope is safe,' he thought thinking about how clever his daughter had been fooling Moriarty's goons. 'The next time I see Hope; I'm either going to ground her till she's married or praise her for her resourcefulness. Or I could just do both,' he thought to himself. It was deathly quiet, then the sound of a squeaking door opened and Moriarty came in. He walked over to the table and removed the gag.
"Well Holmes your daughter is certainly clever but not clever enough," Moriarty said opening the case and pulling out the needle and vial. Holmes felt the blood drain from his face and spoke again with his voice sharp as a needle.
"Leave her alone Moriarty, she had nothing to do with your brother's death, I'm the one you want." Holmes said his mind whirling with disbelief that Hope had allowed herself into their clutches again.
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