Hi! I am sorry this took so long and it's so short... Finally I have a rough idea about this whole thing and even though I probably won't be able to post as ofter, I will continue :) I just HOPE this makes at least a little sense, writing a detective story is so HARD omg.
Anyway, I wanted to wish you a late Happy New Year and I also want to thank the new followers and favorites! If you'd like, you can leave reviews as well!

Chapter 9 - He reports his missing wife...

SARAH WINSTON

"Orpington D.I. called me for backup... there's a woman missing - Esther Finlay, she was last seen by her husband." Greg told us on the way there.
"A missing woman? Is that it?" Sherlock asked, uninterested. "Really, Lestrade, I thought the police had enough braincells to find one missing woman."
"Hmm, it is quite underwhelming..." I shrugged my shoulders and I heard Donovan scoff from the passenger's seat.
"Well, you said you wanted a case, here's one. They weren't able to find any new leads, nothin'. Not even her family or friends know where she might've gone… they say it's like she suddenly vanished." Lestrade glared at Sherlock through the rearview mirror. Sherlock and I exchanged looks with John. We'll see about that.
"Well," said Sherlock smugly, "that just means one of them is a liar."

When we arrived at the police station, we were greeted by an older man with greying hair and a receding hairline. He was about Greg's age, only years didn't seem to be as kind to him as to our Detective Inspector. He shook hands with Greg and then he turned his gaze to us.
"When you promised reinforcements, I expected police officers. Why do I see civilians, Greg?"
"Trust me Peter, you'll be glad I brought them. You know Sergeant Donovan," he gestured to Donovan who nodded at the man. "This is Sherlock Holmes. He's my consultant. Doctor Winston here is the best psychologist I've ever met," his gaze fell on me, "And Doctor Watson is an army doctor. Just give them some time, show them what you've got and let them work. They'll bring results, I promise." Greg told the man sincerely and patted his shoulder. "Everyone, this is Detective Inspector Peter Bales." Me and John shook the D.I.'s hand, Sherlock just stared intensively.
Bales still didn't seem very convinced about us, but he let us into the building. He walked us to his office, and we passed a few police officers along the way who eyed us warily. In the office, we've looked at the missing woman's file, her address, her family bonds, searching for anything useful.
"Esther Finlay, age 39, she's been missing since the end of february, so about two weeks now. We've searched the forest, the town, nothing. She was last seen by her husband James, who reported her missing about 23 hours after he'd last seen her."
Sherlock raised his eyebrows. "So in fact, you barely have anthing. Did anyone question the husband?"
Peter looked at him. "James? Of course we did. Poor bloke, they haven't had it easy, you know. He admitted that they fought often, and that he found himself a new girl, Augustine, or something like that. Quite young for him, I admit… But still, he was devastated when he came to us for help. Even though he and Este weren't happy together anymore, he still cares about her. And the state he's in now… he's always been a heavy drinker, but I've never seen him like this." He sighed and grimaced as I processed everything he just said. I looked over at Sherlock. He turned on his heel and strolled out of the room. I knew exactly where he was heading, and I followed after him and urged John with me. Outside, I finally reached him.
"How exactly do we want to get to their house? This isn't London, we don't know this town." I told him but he just smirked as he raised his hand. I started laughing and shook my head. He stole Greg's car keys.
"Oh, he's gonna kill us." John chuckled, following behind us.

Sherlock drove us to the address we've had from the file with a little help from navigation and the car stopped in front of a row of red-bricked houses. We made our way to the number which corresponded with the case file and rang the doorbell. Then we waited. Sherlock paced impatiently on the pavement leading to the green painted front door. Finally, the door opened a little.
"Who's there?" a man's voice spoke from behind the door. His speech was slurred, as if he was sleeping, or more likely, drinking. Sherlock quickly jolted towards the door.
"James Finlay?"
"Yeah, what d'ya want? Who 're you?" He raised his voice a little.
"We'd like to ask you about Este," I said carefully.
There was silence at the other side of the door… I eyed Sherlock and John worried that the man would lock us out. But then, the door widened and my gaze fell on a man wrapped in a nightgown, stubble on his face and circles under his eyes. His nose was red and his eyes glassy and absent. He looked old and young at the same time. If I imagined him in a more sober state, I would say he was handsome. But now all that was in front of us, was very far from a sober man.
"You're looking for Este?" he asked us and I nodded.
"Mr Finlay, this is Sherlock Holmes, he's a consulting detective. We're his colleagues. I'm doctor John Watson and this is doctor Sarah Winston. We're here to help." John told the man who was still silent.
"We would like to ask you some questions and we were hoping you'd provide us with some answers. Would that be okay?" I asked him. He considered for a moment, before he let us in quietly by opening the door enough for us to pass through. We found ourselves in a small hallway with stairs leading to the upper floor and two archways, one leading to the kitchen and one to the living room. On the walls there were photographs mostly of a couple in various locations. With family, on vacations, on their wedding day. One of the pair was a clean-shaven, smiling, sober version of Mr Finlay and the other one was a tall woman with dirty blond hair and a contagious smile. Sherlock examined the pictures on the wall as well and he eyed Mr Finlay. I wondered if he was thinking the same as I was. What had gone so terribly wrong?

SHERLOCK HOLMES

We followed James Finlay into the living room, which was very neatly cleaned. It didn't fit his appearance. If he neglected himself, why would he clean up the rest of the house? I turned around to see the state of the kitchen through the archway, it was also perfectly clean. Either he had a maid, which was not likely, judging by the unpaid bills on the table. The other explanation was simple. Someone else was here and cleaned up for him. Augustine. I turned my attention back to Finlay who threw himself on one of the chairs in the living room as Sarah observed him with furrowed eyebrows. Good, she picked up that something was off as well. I decided for her to take the lead in talking to the man, instead, I chose to look around this place a little bit more.
John sat himself down opposite James Finlay, nervously shifting from the silence.
"I've no idea what else I'm s'pposed to say. I've told Pe'er everything already." James slurred.
"Yes, he mentioned your new girlfriend. Interesting that she moved in with you so quickly after your wife's disappearance, don't you think? She's done a marvellous job on cleaning the house." I quipped and he stared me down.
"Mr Finlay, you were the last person to see Esther before her disappearance, correct?" Sarah inquired with a professional tone as she crossed her arms pacing on the carpet in front of the chair Mr Finlay was occupying. He quietly nodded.
"What happened the day before you reported her missing?"
"It's like you said. I have a girlfriend. Wives don't like that sort of thing…" James shrugged and he wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. "So, we argued and I slept on the couch. The next mornin' she was gone. I thought she went to work, but she didn't return. Called her sister… she hasn't heard of her… so I called her friend… nothin'. So obviously, I went to the police." I listened carefully, observing the man. My ears picked up a sound coming from the driveway to the house. A car had just parked there. I eyed the woman who stepped out, casting a suspicious glance at Lestrade's car which I borrowed.
"Thank you, that would be all. Good afternoon." I said quickly and headed for the exit, Sarah and John following behind me. The woman's eyes scanned us warily. She was much younger than Mr Finlay, seemingly in her late twenties.
"You must be the secret girlfriend." I smiled at her and her eyes widened.
"Who the hell do you think you are-" Sherstarted furiously, but I cut her off.
"Oh, so I'm to assume that you're a friend just casually coming to check up on how poor Mr Finlay is doing? There are groceries in the trunk of your car, you parked in the driveway, ready to go into the garage. And the pure fact that this is James' car. Miss…"
"Mayer. Augustine Mayer. And you are?"
"Sherlock Holmes. Now, Miss Mayer, maybe you could provide us with some answers?" I asked and Augustine just stared at the three of us with wide eyes.
"You should know that I've talked to the police already. I don't see why I should answer any of your questions." She retorted and she turned around to head into the house.
"Because if you don't we're going to ask someone else. Someone, who might see this situation from a different point of view. Let's say… Este's sister? Danielle, was it?" Sarah spoke up with light tone, but her look was serious.
I wanted to applaud her persuasive skills. She displayed a threat, but in a very polite, silent manner. That was often more dangerous than being angry and lashing out threats in rage.
Augustine closed her eyes briefly, then she stepped closer to us.
"Esther found out. About me and James. If you want to know my opinion, I think she just left to be alone for a while. I know I would if I found out my husband is cheating on me… That's all I know. I never actually met the woman, so I seriously don't know how I can be of any more help."
"Thank you, Miss Mayer. You've been very… helpful." I said.

We returned to Lestrade's car and John gave the Finlay house's driveway a last glance.
"Hm, nice new car," he quipped.
"No." I turned to him, and the dots started to connect. "It's not new. You've seen the photographs, but if you actually observed, you would've noticed that the car is in the background of one of them. So not new, just very clean. And the tires are new as well."
"Well, isn't that a nice coincidence." Sarah mused as we got into the car and drove away.
"You think-" John looked at her.
"I mean… domestic murder is quite the logical explanation, isn't it Sherlock?" She turned to me on the passenger seat. I glanced at her from the road and shrugged.
"That's my first theory. We'd have to find out more if we want to draw conclusions."
"So, Danielle… the sister?"
"Yes." I nodded as I glanced at John in the rearview mirror.

SARAH WINSTON:

The car stopped in front of Danielle's house and Sherlock pressed the doorbell. Nothing.
"Great." John sighed.
"What now?" I asked Sherlock who thought for a while, then he got an idea.
"Alison Alwyn, you saw the file." He eyed me.
"The best friend?" I raised my eyebrows.
"Yes, I'll have Lestrade text me the address."

After a little disagreement with Greg, who was a little mad that we stole his car, he eventually gave us Alison's address. Thank God this town is relatively small, everyone lives so close to each other.
We knocked on Alison's door and waited. Sherlock eyed something next to the house, but I couldn't see what he saw. The door opened and revealed a young woman and for a second I thought we found Esther Finlay. The sisters were just so similar. She was tall, with brown eyes, but her hair was a darker shade than Este's. A confused frown spread across her face.
"Yes?" She asked.
"You're Esther's sister, Danielle?" I asked the woman, and she nodded.
"And what do you want? Are you from the papers?"
"No, no. We're working with the police… We already spoke to James Finlay and Augustine Mayer." I explained to her.
"Oh."
"Can we come in?" John asked her, she slowly nodded and opened the door for us to walk in. She led us to the kitchen, where we spotted the owner of the house, Alison Alwyn. She was sitting at the table and her blue eyes scanned us suspiciously.
"Who're they Danielle?" She questioned the brunette.
"They're with the police, um… " She turned to us, probably expecting our names.
"Sherlock Holmes, and this," Sherlock pointed to me and John, "is Sarah Winston and John Watson."
"Haven't we already been questioned?" Alison growled.
"They say that they talked to James and Augustine as well."
"Oh please." Alison scoffed.
"I take it you have something to say about them?" Sherlock asked her with a smirk.
"Oh yes, I bet they told you a sappy story about how Este probably ran away out of spite."
"And you don't quite agree with their narrative." Sherlock stated.
"No. James is a cowardly piece of shit."
"Ali…" Danielle sat down on one of the chairs with a sigh.
"I've had enough, Danielle, they are getting away with it and the police has done nothing! They didn't listen to us, they're still expecting to find her. We both know what the truth is." Alison stood up angrily.
"And what, exactly, is the truth?" Sherlock turned his head to Alison.
"She's dead." Alison said without hesitation.
"ALI!" Danielle shouted and her eyes filled with tears. John comfortingly squeezed her shoulder.
"Danielle, do you really think she went on a vacation or something? We were with the that same evening! She said it herself, she was going to ask him about her! And look what happened, she's gone. She's dead." Alison yelled with tears streaming down her face.
"Yes." Sherlock said plainly. I had a bad feeling that was the truth, if Esther really just ran away, wouldn't she contact her sister or her best friend?
"Then what exactly do you want from us? You should be arresting him." Alison sneered.
"Tell me, is the road to the lake muddy?" Sherlock hadn't moved a muscle on his face.
"What lake?" I asked him suddenly, exchanging looks of confusion with John.
"Miss Alwyn here owns a boat. Obviously, there's a lake nearby, probably further in the forest." He stated. "Is. It. Muddy?"
"Y- yes." Danielle said weakly.
"Thank you. I'll let the police handle the rest."
"Is that all?" Alison asked us as we turned to leave.
"Yes. I think I've got everything I wanted, thank you." He waved goodbye and took out his phone, dialling Lestrade.
"Lestrade. They might want to check the lake. Oh I know, but this isn't a missing person we're looking for. It's a body." He said and hung up as he walked out of the kitchen and out of the house. Alison breathed out shakily.
"I knew."
"Oh God. Este-" Danielle started shaking and crying and I came up to her, hugging her gently.
"I am so, so sorry. But I promise, the person who did this is going to be dealt with. When the police finds her-" I said slowly and Danielle let out another desperate sob, "when they find her, we will have enough proof to lock him up." I assured her, letting her to grieve with Alison and turning away to follow after Sherlock.

When we returned to the station it was already dark, the police officers were scattering to the forest to search the lake and look for Esther's body. Lestrade was waiting outside with Donovan, who had a sour expression on her face as we pulled up in their car.
"Okay, but how do you know Esther is dead?"
"Alison said it herself. The sisters and her were together the same evening before she went home to her husband and disappeared. She claimed to know about the affair and decided that she was going to confront him. Obviously that was what the argument James himself confirmed had occured was about. He got angry that she found out the truth, and in the berserk he kills her. Maybe he didn't even want to. Plus the house and car."
"Huh?"
"It's clean. Scraped clean. The car, recently washed, very thoroughly. The tires are new as well."
"Maybe he has one of those compulsive clean things… Sarah?" Greg turned to me but I shook my head.
"You didn't see the state the man's in. He looks as if he's three seconds before dying of alcohol poisoning. There's no way he would clean the house on a whim." I told him.
"But why the lake?"
Sherlock sighed as he turned back to him. "They needed a place to get rid of the body, the lake is ideal. They used the car, obviously. But the road to the lake is muddy, the car got dirty, hence the big clean up and new tires."
"So, if they find Esther's body in the lake…" Greg started.
"Arrest James Finlay and Augustine Mayer." Sherlock nodded.
"Augustine Mayer?"
"Oh yes, she would've helped him get rid of the body. They'll probably find the old tires in the lake as well." He told Greg and we got into the car, getting ready to go back to London.

"Okay, so now what?" John questioned as we arrived back to Baker Street. "They find Este's body and the case's closed?"
"Obviously. Domestic murder, plain as a day. Boring," Sherlock shrugged as he hung up his coat and sat down in his armchair.
I said goodnight to the boys and went down to 221C. I kept thinking back to Augustine and James. I was disgusted. Not only he cheats on his wife, but he kills her. I fell asleep with thoughts whirring around in my head.

A loud thud of the door in the room and a bright light disrupted my sleep. I squinted my eyes, trying to get used to the sudden light.
"What-"
"Get up." A deep voice ordered. I opened my eyes to find Sherlock standing near my bed with his coat in his hand and John standing behind him, yawning with messy hair.
"Sherlock, what-"
"I just got a call from Lestrade. James Finlay is dead."