Thanks again for the reviews and followings! Here's the next chapter :) Sorry, this one's a bit short. I'll post the next one soon to make up for it!
Chapter 5
They pulled up to the scene and saw Lestrade, Donovan, and Anderson gathered around talking. Sherlock, as usual was the one out of the cab first, his long coat swishing behind him dramatically. Addie climbed out and immediately started taking in the situation. It must be more than just an average killing if so many police and detectives were around. She was brought out of her head by a shout.
"Oi! Carson!" Oh, Lestrade. "Where have you been? Just up and disappeared for a bit. Never answered your phone."
"Oh hi sir. Yeah, sorry about that. My phone must be going faulty. Need to have it checked out," she said, shooting Sherlock an annoyed look.
Lestrade followed her gaze and looked to Sherlock. "Oh, you two working together then? I knew you two had a lot in common." He remarked.
"More than you know," Sherlock replied cheekily.
"Alright then?" Lestrade asked Addie, turning back to face her. "Seemed in a big hurry when you left."
"Yes, I'm fine. Just had a bit of family business to take care of. But it's alright. Nothing that can't be dealt with on my downtime," she replied.
Sherlock gave a scoff and a laugh. Lestrade looked to him slightly puzzled before focusing back on Addie.
"Anyways Carson, we've got a bit of a difficult one for you. You see…"
Sherlock cut him off, "You know Lestrade, if she's going to continue working with us, you might as well address her by her real name."
"What are you talking about?" he asked. No answer. Lestrade focused on John instead, "What is he talking about?"
John sighed knowing Sherlock wasn't going to bother trying to explain it to Lestrade's feeble mind.
"It seems to be that Ms. Carson isn't in fact who she says she is," John explained.
"Ok…then who is she?" Lestrade asked.
"Well, her name is Addie, first of all, not Andie."
"Oh great, have I been saying it wrong all this time? And you never corrected me? That's embarrassing," Lestrade said.
Sherlock, getting sick of all the back and forth and the guessing, decided to come out and say it. "No Lestrade, you haven't been saying it wrong, well, technically you have, but let's get to the point shall we?"
Lestrade nodded at him.
"Her name is not Andrea Carson, or "Andie" as you so affectionately call her. Her name is Adelaide. Or Addie as she prefers. And she's not "working" with me as you so put it. And the family problems she speaks of do in fact involve everyone here," Sherlock explained.
"What are you on about?" Lestrade was getting annoyed now.
"Her name is Adelaide Holmes. Holmes. H-O-L-M-E-S. Homles. She's my sister, as much as I loathe to admit it," Sherlock said.
"You mean there's more than one of you freaks?" Donovan piped up from behind them.
"Three to be exact. We have a brother named Mycroft," Addie said.
"I knew there was something too similar about you two! I recognized it when I first met her. Reminded me too much of you," Lestrade said, smiling triumphantly. "Makes sense now."
"Yes, well, as enlightening as this revelation has been, shall we get on with the case?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow.
He and John started to follow Lestrade into the building. Addie made to follow them before she was stopped by Donovan.
"You really related to him?" she asked her.
"Yes," Addie replied.
Donovan looked at her sympathetically. "I'm so sorry," she said.
Addie smirked, catching the sarcasm in her voice as she expressed her condolences for having Sherlock as a brother.
"I think I like her," she exclaimed after Sherlock and John. Sherlock said nothing and continued into the building.
Addie immediately started her deductions, taking in every detail about the place, but mostly reading the people on the scene. A police officer in his mid-forties, unsatisfied with his job, marital problems, drowns his sorrows in packages of sugar donuts judging by his wide frame. Another officer, early 50s, devoted father and husband, working a late shift and no doubt missing an important family event judging by the way he keeps looking at his watch. Newbie officer: first case and first crime scene; extremely over-excited and eager to please, trying to impress his female colleague and hoping to get lucky tonight. Security guard at the door: shifty eyes and bruised knuckles, which isn't unusual in his profession, but it also isn't likely he gets much action at this boring museum. He has to know something.
Lestrade approached them and waited for Sherlock and Addie to finish their observations. "Anyone worth questioning or are we wasting our time?" he asked.
"The security guard," both Addie and Sherlock replied at the same time. They gave each other calculating looks before turning back to John and Lestrade, who looked lost once again.
"The security guard? But he's way over there. How'd you get anything from him?" John asked.
"His knuckles are bruised, which isn't completely unusual, but being a museum security guard, he isn't likely to get much action. Plus he mostly patrols the cars and the ticket booth, hardly a center of violent activity," Addie answered.
"Also, he's standing awkwardly, favoring his right side to alleviate the pressure on his bruised knee. Whatever he encountered was more than just your average annoyed customer waiting in too long of a queue. He saw a different kind of action in the past 12 hours and he hasn't yet recovered from it," Sherlock finished.
Lestrade looked back and forth between the two of them. "My god, you really are related," he said. "And you say he's worth questioning because he's standing awkwardly on his right side?"
"Obviously," Sherlock and Addie replied again, in unison.
"You know, we really need to stop doing that," Addie said turning to Sherlock. He nodded back at her.
"So, shall you take the security guard then?" Lestrade asked Addie.
"Nah, Sherlock can handle him. I've got the lanky records keeper in the corner," she replied.
"Alright, I'm off to talk to the police. Let me know what you find out," Lestrade said, walking away.
"You aren't going to question the security guard?" John asked. "I thought you did all the questioning at the scenes?"
Sherlock said nothing, studying her with a peculiar look.
"I do, but the kid in the corner looks like he saw something too. He'd be easier to question than the security guard, who isn't going anywhere for a while. This records keeper might bail soon. Plus, he finds me attractive, which would work to my advantage," Addie said.
Sherlock scoffed at her.
"What? He's not allowed to find me attractive? It's been known to happen, Sherlock," she said, irritated. "Oh, it's not that, is it? You doubt my abilities to get him to talk. Well, watch and see big brother." And with that she walked off towards the skinny kid in the corner.
Sherlock and John watched as she shyly approached the boy and started making casual conversation. Soon the two were laughing and chatting with each other, Addie not being overtly flirtatious, but clearly putting on the moves to influence him to open up more.
"Wow, she really is quite good isn't she?" John said, looking to Sherlock.
Sherlock hadn't moved from his spot and his eyes never left Addie. He looked puzzled and slightly disconcerted.
"Sherlock, what's wrong?" John asked.
"It's nothing. I've just never seen her like this before. I mean, in this situation. It's just…odd," he answered.
"I can imagine it would be pretty weird to witness your little sister being such a flirtatious young woman. I'd be a little freaked out myself," John said.
"See, that's the thing John. You said "woman." Which is entirely correct given the fact that she is 24-years-old and she is well past the age of being considered a child, but I still find it…odd," he said.
"Ah, I see. Can't quite grasp the fact that she's not a little girl anymore? She was, what, 18 when she "died" if my math is correct? Hardly just entered adulthood. Still a child really. And now seeing her as a woman is difficult to understand. She'll always be a little girl in your eyes won't she?" John said, looking to Sherlock.
Sherlock gave him an unreadable look and scoffed as he turned and walked away. John shook his head and smiled fondly. As stubborn as the Holmes family was turning out to be, there was no doubt he was enjoying their company. Living with them was exciting and unpredictable, and it sure as hell beat a normal 9 to 5 work day and a lonely flat to come home to.