Sherlock: His Lover Called A [Sherlaide II]

Toby [A]

A Couple Days Later

I finish zipping up my jacket and grab my crossbody purse, snatching a bag of dog treats from my desk, "I might be a while, Ryan."

"No problem. There's not much else anyways." I smile and wave to her as I exit the office. Sherlock texts me their location and I hurry to flag a cab. Since when does Sherlock use a bloodhound to track a suspect?  I muse to myself and pull up a webpage to get a few ideas as to how to encourage the canine to get a move on.

In time I reach the sidewalk and see Sherlock, the bloodhound, Mary and John standing there. I pay the cabbie and hop out, stifling a chuckle. This scene is too hilarious.

"Hey, guys. Need some help?" I greet. Sherlock turns towards me and smiles gently.

"Ah, yes. I don't suppose you could get Toby to move for us, Adelaide?"

I reach up and peck his jawline, "Of course, I can try," I look over at Mary who's chuckling at me and Sherlock and is holding Toby's leash, "May I, Mary?"

She nods, "Sure!" I take hold of the leash and dig into my bag, grabbing a few treats before walking in front of Toby. I hold one of the small beef flavored morsels up for him to see. He licks his lips and almost goes to stand up.

"Come, Toby." I hold the treat a bit further away from him and he looks at me with pitiful eyes. This time I give a hand signal, "Come, Toby."

This time Toby lumbers to his feet and walks forward, "Good boy, Toby!" I reward him with the treat, "Heel, Toby." He sits down at my left side this time and I reward him again.

"What exactly are you doing?" John asks.

"Besides showing off your skills?" Mary adds. I smile.

"Giving him commands and warming him up," I answer and look towards Sherlock, "Where does the scent trail begin?"

"Here." He gestures. I hold out another treat for Toby and step towards the spot.

"Come, Toby." He follows me and then I have him take a few good sniffs of the area, then like a switch being flipped, the bloodhound takes off, dragging me for a moment before I match his gait.

Eventually Mary retakes the leash and I keep jogging beside John and Rosie as Sherlock and Mary lead with Toby. John, at some point, chuckles, "I suppose that this isn't what you normally do in your job?"

"Nope!"

"Enjoying this?"

"Absolutely!" We both laugh and move a little faster.

Toby pulls us around town until we arrive at a large market. Here he finally slows down and follows his nose...

... Right to a butcher's cart. Oh well.

Toby stops and sits, sniffing the air. I sigh and walk over, rewarding him as the others talk about where one would hide if they were wounded. Sherlock mentions something about blood hiding in a butcher's shop and then kneels down in front of the bloodhound, stroking his muzzle, "Never mind, Toby. Better luck next time, hmm?"

And then he continues, "This is it, though. This is the one. I can feel it." He stands up and I quickly realize that what he's referencing is something I'm unaware of. John and Mary get the hint immediately while I'm standing with Toby, suddenly feeling out of place.

"Not Moriarty?" John probes. Sherlock shakes his head.

"Has to be him. It's too bizarre, it's too baroque," Sherlock says, obviously in thought, "It's designed to beguile me, tease me and lure me in."

"Moriarty? What are you talking about?" I dare to ask. But he doesn't hear me. I said it too softly.

"Blast! A noose for me to put my neck into."

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