How to Murder a Dead Man : Sherlock (Discontinued)

Chapter 2: I Am No Nancy Drew

A week later.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I was currently working half-time mornings and early evenings at a local library, and half-time at The London Cups pub as a bartender evenings to late nights. It was hard to have just packed up and left my little hometown and get a job within four days, but I was willing to work hard for it.

I sighed, it was only 2:00 pm on a calm Wednesday. I still had about ten minutes to go before I was released of my shift to go home and sleep for about another three hours and then go to the bar to start my evening shift. 

I leaned back in my chair, flipping the page of The Lord of  the Flies. I had read it once when I was in grade school but it didn't hurt to reread it.

"Hey, Y/N! I tried to get here a bit earlier today, you can leave if you'd like," I nearly jumped out of my skin as Chloe entered the building. She was another part-time employee who took the shift after me. 

"Oh yes, of course!" I smiled and pack the book, my keys, phone, and empty coffee mug into my side bag. We shared a quick goodbye before I stepped out side.

The sky was a soft grey, it looked like it was going to rain. If it were to rain it wouldn't be so bad since I only lived about three blocks away from here. I began to walk fast, the sky darkening quickly. Within ten minutes I arrived home, 221C Baker Street. 

I hung my shoulder bag, coat, and hat up on the rack and sat headed to the kitchen, grabbing an apple before sitting down on my navy blue couch. I looked around. I was fully moved in now. I even had filled the empty flower pot at the end of the hall with a small yellow sedum plant.

I sighed again, looking up to the clock to see I still had about two hours and a half until I needed to bar tend. Taking that as my cue, I fell asleep nearly immediately as I smashing my face into my puffy pillow.

~*~*~

After my alarm clock on my watch went off I changed into a black T-shirt, capri pants, and tied my hair up into a neat pony tail. It was regulation to have at least short hair, or if long, tied up and a black shirt. With that, I headed out the door, swinging my coat around my shoulders.

"Cab!" I called, raising my hand in the cool air. A cabbie pulled up to the curb and I gave him the address to the bar. It was that far away from here, but it was chilly, and I didn't feel like walking. 

~*~

"Oi, Y/N! Ow's it goin'?" A common patron asks, his words slightly slurred. It seemed like everyone who had a drink got drunk it seconds. It felt like they all could barely hold their liquor but then again, who am I to talk?

"Good, and what can I get for you today?" I ask, leaning over the edge of the counter.

"What eva's on the tap," he responded in his thick cockney accent. I smiled and nodded as I turned around to fill a glass.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but have you seen-" a familiar voice said. I set down the glass for the patron and turned my attention to him.

Mr. Sherlock Holmes!

"Ms. L/N, I hadn't realized you worked here." he said, staring at you, before continuing. Something told me he knew however. He seemed to know everything. "Have you seen this man around here?" he asked, showing me a picture of a man. He was heavier set, dark eyes and dark hair. I nodded my head.

"Yes, I think so. He is familiar," I muttered. "I have only been working here for five days, though. I could've mistook him for one of our patrons here." I doubted myself slightly. I didn't want Mr. Holmes to go on a wild goose chase on a whim that I had. Sherlock stared at me, as if reading me like an open book. Well... he probably was reading me like an open book.