Hooked (teenlock)

Chapter Twelve

John furrowed his brow. "That's an awful reason to murder someone."

Loraine sighed, eyes welling with tears. "I know, I know! I was just... I just couldn't take it anymore! I was so close to losing my job because of her stupid orders!"

"Scene of the crime," I said before she could become any more emotional. "'Terrific catch, don't you think?' What does that mean?"

She shrugged, sniffling as the first of many tears fell. "I don't know! I was just so tired of her, and I snapped. I was violent, I was cruel, I was awful and I'm sorry!"

"Oh my god." John's voice was hardly audible over the wind. "You're actually confessing."

She was bawling now. "I'm sorry I killed her! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Moriarty placed a hand on Loraine's shoulder. "There, there. I'm sure you'll do just fine in prison."

This sent a new shudder of sobs through the woman. "I don't want to go to prison!"

I was still setting the pieces together in my mind. If Loraine had murdered Molly, there was no way she was after John. There was no relation between his accident, his little 'fan' on his blog, and Molly's death. They were all separate things. If Moriarty was correct, then John was safe.

"You don't seem like a murderer," I said, my voice as low as John's.

Moriarty fixed a gaze on me that was even colder than usual. "She's just admitted it, Sherlock. I know you hate for other people to be correct, but really, learn to accept defeat. Your remaining hope that you can actually manage to solve a case like this is pathetic."

John's eyes turned to slivers as he glared at Moriarty. "It isn't pathetic."

"Yes, John, it is. As are you." Jim smiled widely, victorious. "Who would have believed that the great Sherlock Holmes and his sidekick weren't nearly as smart as they thought? Oh, that's right. Everyone. Sherlock, I dare say that you're looking more and more like a fake every single day."

"A fake? What is it that you think I'm faking?"

Moriarty laughed. "Your intelligence, of course. You couldn't solve a case that a regular guy like me could. It isn't that you're surrounded by basic things, Sherlock, it's just that your mind isn't complex enough to process them."

I ignored the bite of his words and turned towards Loraine. "You say you hate Molly simply because of her ordering habits- which, of course, is the worst reasoning I've ever heard. Are you sure there isn't any other reason?"

Loraine wiped her eyes, which did little good, since the tears continued to come. "She was just- I don't know, it's awful, but she was just so annoying! Always happy and bright and smiling. Whenever she walked into a room, she stood out so much that everyone else- that I shrunk against her!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Though your reasoning is terribly poor, a confession is a confession. John, could you please call the police?"

A new wave of sobs washed over her. "I don't want to go to prison!"

"You probably should have considered that before you killed a girl," John said, simultaneously pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing 999 for the second time that day.

As soon as she noticed John dialing, Loraine was off. She ran towards the cliff at the edge of the park with Moriarty and I trailing close behind. Just inches from the edge she turned around, facing us.

She was making no effort whatsoever to stop the tears from streaming down her face. "This is what you want, isn't it? For this whole thing to be over. For me to be gone and for Molly to be gone and for this to be over. That's all it takes, isn't it?"