A recognizable face appeared in the girl's hazel eyes that widened in surprise. The person in front of her was deceptive and could easily ruin her, though she already knew it all. She gasped quietly to herself and fear caused her to stutter while speaking.
"W-what ar-are you-ou doing he-ere?" The girl's voice echoed in the sparsely furnished, empty room.
"Paying you a visit. We have a business deal to discuss." The person replied smoothly.
The girl was completely familiar with what he was talking about, but she hated that fact. If only she hadn't made her decision so hastily that night...she had been desperate and felt hurt. It was a bold move and a very regretable one that she wished to take back immediately, simply so she wouldn't be in her current predicament. The phone number of this fearsome individual had already been in her phone since she never got rid of it and made a literal call for revenge instead of finding reassurance when she was having a bad day. But she knew her consequences, and now was the time she would have to face them.
>>>>
"You got any cases?" John asked Sherlock.
"Of course not, you've seen how I've been pacing about this damn flat."
"Why haven't you accepted any clients?"
"Most of the interesting ones require me going into the microbiology part of the hospital for the good microscopes to prove my deductions to be true with evidence. As much as I hate admitting it, I need someone to let me in."
"You do know that I work there, right?"
"Yes, John, but do you have access to bodies of people who had been killed?"
"No...so you need Molly. Say it."
"I will not. And yes, that's true. But she hasn't shown up to work for the past two days."
"Maybe she's sick."
"Nope. Completely healthy the last time I saw her and Molly has a strong immune system, trust me."
"Or she went on a holiday."
"Oh, you've met the girl. You know that she blubbers on and on about everything in her life. No mention of going anywhere."
"Did Molly not feel up to working today?"
"Definitely not, her tone was too serious when she phoned in. Molly likes her job well enough, she has no reason to go to work."
"So you're saying she was taken and forced to say she was sick."
"There are other possibilities, but the most probable would definitely be taken by force."
John furrowed his brows and thought to himself- Who would take Molly? Why would they take her? Since usually he was the one targeted by people trying to get to Sherlock.
"John....John? John!" Sherlock called out.
"Huh? Ehm, yeah I'm listening."
"We should go now. You look through Molly's flat, there's a cab outside. I'm going elsewhere, call me if you find something." Sherlock said as he left the room.
Not thinking of any other way to make of the situation, John listened to Sherlock's directions and went into the cab outside of the hospital. Since Molly's flat was so nearby, he was there in less than five minutes. It looked small from the outside and seemed nice enough. The only problem at that point would be getting into the flat.
Lucky for him, hanging around Sherlock had paid off. Molly was quite a simple girl so it wasn't hard to guess where she had hidden her spare key. But, he wasn't quite as good as his detective friend at deductions so it took him two tries to find the keys. His first prediction was the traditional hide-the-key-under-the-doormat, which wasn't the correct location. He finally found it taped under the potted plant on top of a sort-of pedastal beside the flat door.
Once unlocked, the flat was practically a reflection of Molly. There were mismatched pieces of furniture and small decorative statues and lamps shoved closely on tables or mantles. A telly was on one side of the main room with a couple of windows on the opposite. Molly's cat was perched on one of the carpeted scratch-structures and stared at John with its hazel eyes.
Each room was the same- quaint and messy with slightly mismatching décor. Well, all rooms other than her bedroom which looked as if it had been cleaned to be completely spotless. John took this as a suspicious signal and searched the room further. There was a single book placed on top of the white nightstand titled "The Seven Streets of Liverpool" by Maureen Lee. John reached for his phone.
"Sherlock, I've got something."
>>>>
Sherlock opened the cab, slight breeze blowing through his hair as the air was cold. John stood in front of him and they stood together, viewing the street in front of them. John was trying to think like his friend, trying to observe and deduce where Molly could be, with no success. Sherlock's mind was speeding through thoughts, a rocket compared to John's mind, and narrowed down Molly's possible location.
"Over there." Sherlock pointed to a flat balcony over a coffee shop.
"How do y-" John started.
"Simple deduction, I'll explain when we aren't trying to solve a case."
"Or saving someone's life." John muttered before following the detective.
There was a side door that was unlocked already and a small flight of stairs leading to a door, similar to the style of Sherlock's flat. John opened the door for his friend, partially in anxiety of what he'd see beyond the doorway. Sherlock stepped inside confidently and stood poised, a serious expression all over his features. The doctor peered into the room, beside Sherlock's tall frame to only see a glimpse of what was in the room.
The room was completely bare- no furniture, paintings, not even appliances in the kitchen. The walls were white and floor was concrete, like the flat hadn't been finished. Only a paper laid on the floor with elegant computer font looping all over it. Sherlock picked it up and held it where both men could make out what the cursive writing said.
London Charity Ball
Rivoli Ballroom, London
Saturday, December 8th
9:00pm-12:00am
Sherlock turned towards John, "You best find yourself a suit. We're attending a ball."
