John gives the driver Diane's address when they get inside the cab, and Sherlock transitions his thoughts from Lily — and Molly, really, based on their conversation — to the case.
Michael is likely responsible for the ears, if the ears are really Diane and Jared's. If they're not, he's still probably the one responsible for their disappearances — and possibly deaths. That brings up the question of whose ears they are, but there's no use dwelling on that until Molly is finished with tests. For now, he'll see what he can find in terms of DNA samples and possible evidence, and ask Lestrade what he has on the investigation of Diane and Jared's disappearances.
As they likely won't be interrogating any witnesses or possible suspects, he supposes it's fine that Lily isn't currently here, though she might've picked up on evidence he or John could miss. It's lucky the case seems open and shut — though Sherlock will keep an open mind. They can always search the houses again with Lily if need be.
"Did Lily seem alright to you?" John suddenly asks.
Sherlock turns to him. "What?"
"Did Lily seem alright to you?" he repeats. "She seemed a bit... off today. I thought you might've noticed."
Sherlock thinks for a moment, going back over the day so far, how Lily behaved, the things she said. He frowns. "She wasn't as..." fairy-like, he thinks, though instead he says, "joyful as she usually is." Granted, wanting to make Molly cherry turnovers seemed very Lily, but not quite the rest of her behavior. She was... troubled.
"Yeah. Like something's bothering her." They're quiet for a moment, both wondering. Sherlock remembers what Molly said to her, thinking that could have something to do with it. John sighs. "I suppose she'll tell us if she wants to."
"Maybe it was the ears," Sherlock supplies, noting how she didn't like looking at them and the aversion she had to them in her flat yesterday. It hits Sherlock that she seemed fine then. Taking care of everyone's refreshments, yes, but her normal self. Maybe it was Rosie being there, or that whatever's upset her happened between then and this morning. Or both. But Liam didn't seem bothered by anything — granted, Sherlock's only met him one time, so how would he know?
Unless he's the thing that bothered her. But why would the fairy guard upset the fairy?
"Maybe..." John says as the taxi stops in front of a normal house, save the police presence. Lestrade is outside while a few officers can be seen inside the open front door. Sherlock pushes Lily from his mind for the moment to focus on the case again.
"Hey," Lestrade calls. "John gave me the run down on the phone, but I'm still a bit lost here."
"And?" Sherlock replies, unsurprised.
Lestrade rolls his eyes. "We've had this missing person's case for a couple days now, haven't turned up anything. This ear business is clearly a development, but Susan didn't tell us anything."
"Her friend Miriam said she was freaked out and thought it might just be some prank," John answers.
"And what do you think it is?"
"Most likely human ears, and most likely Diane and Jared's," Sherlock says.
"Most likely sent by...?"
"Michael."
The only thing Sherlock can't figure out is why Diane's ex-husband would send Susan the ears. To rub it her face? Tell her what he did? Was he possibly in league with Susan's med-student ex-boyfriend? Asking Lily might prove to narrow things down, once he sees her again. Hopefully whatever's bothering her will have gone away. If not, he might have to make it go away; he wants her input if he can't figure it out from observations in the house alone. He wants to be certain. The case seems open and shut, but these specific motivations are another story, not to mention the whereabouts of Michael.
Even though he's sure he knows the answer, he asks Lestrade, "Are you at all close to finding Michael?"
"No," Lestrade sighs. "It's like he's dropped off the face of the Earth."
"Another sign of his guilt," John points out.
Sherlock shakes his head as they move through the house. "Well, that was never in doubt — in regards to the disappearances, anyway." He sighs. "People are so predictable."
Usually, he reminds himself. Usually.
Now and then there are anomalies, and they're sometimes positive for Sherlock. An interesting case to solve, a new wrench thrown in the natural order for him to figure out.
A kindness with a capacity that continues to surprise him.
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The shops are crowded today, filled with locals and tourists alike — but mostly tourists. However, her parents love coming up here when they visit, as they don't get to London as often as they would like. Her mother was a nurse practitioner that didn't get much time off, always on her feet, always caring for other people. However, even now that she's retired, she keeps herself busy. Her father is a carpenter; always building things, even if it's not for customers but for Lily's parents' house. Uriah works for him, making mostly the orders they get, and repairs on old things people want fixed.
At the moment they're in a clothing shop, and Lily's browsing through dresses with her mother, who shows her a black one with roses on it. "This is cute, Lily."
Lily scrunches her nose. "Too dark." She soon finds a yellow one with white polka dots. "Oh, I like this one." She checks the tag and grimaces. "But not for that price."
"Oh, I'll pay for it. It'll be a housewarming present — or... I don't know. I'll pay for it."
"Mum, it's fifty-one pounds," Lily says in a half-whisper. "That's too much for a dress."
Her mother looks at the tag. "That's a good brand. It's made well. It'll last you for ages."
Lily sighs as her mother takes the dress off the rack. "It better."
They continue looking, Lily picking things up and putting them back down until she reaches the clearance section and finds prices she can live with. She finds a comfortable but professional pair of pants on sale and decides to buy them for cases. Pants seem more sensible for running in, if they ever need to. Based on what happened with the Hayter's, anything is possible. She still hasn't mentioned that to her parents, and she doubts she ever will, though Liam might do that for her. They probably wouldn't be enthusiastic about it if they knew.
When they leave the shop, Liam wants to stop in a bookstore across the street, so they all head in. Her mother and father head to different sections — history, biography, nature — while Liam and Lily go to the fiction section. As they peruse the titles, Liam asks, "So, are you going back to St. Bart's with Sherlock and John?"
"Yes," Lily replies. "I need to make turnovers for Molly when we get home; I'll have to stop at the grocery store for some things."
"Can I go, too?"
"Don't you have to leave tomorrow morning?"
"Well, it shouldn't be that late."
"I don't know how long it takes to get DNA and identify it."
"Molly said she could definitely do it by tonight if Sherlock got the DNA to her within the hour. It doesn't take as long as you'd think. At least... not for her, I think. She told me a lot of stuff about how things worked but she's, like, really good at her job and some of it went over my head."
Lily shakes her head. "If you don't want to get much sleep tonight before you have to leave, it's up to you. I don't understand your fascination with this stuff."
"It's cool. And Molly knows, like, everything about it."
Lily stops looking at titles, instead turning to Liam, who won't look at her. She decides not to say anything; he hasn't mentioned Sherlock aside from just now at all today. Instead, she turns back to the books and tries not to buy too many.
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Getting the DNA from Diane and Jared's house was easy enough; there were dirty dishes in the sink and strands of hair in the bathroom. It was the looking around after collecting what they needed that provided something of interest.
Aside from the entire house screaming that there was a struggle, there was a picture on the mantelpiece. Well, there were multiple — pictures of Diane and Susan's parents, of Susan and Diane, Diane and Jared, Jared and his brother, Jared's parents — but there was one women in a picture with Susan and Diane that gave Sherlock pause.
"They have another sister," he said. The women looked far too much like Susan to not be her sister.
John looked at the picture. "Huh. So they do."
It could be insignificant. But why hadn't Miriam mentioned her? Sure, maybe she has nothing to do with any of this, but the way she spoke... She didn't say "her oldest sister, Diane," or "her younger sister Diane." She spoke as if Susan only had one sister.
Sherlock pondered this as they returned to St. Bart's to give Molly the DNA. He thanked her again, but it was a short visit, and they returned home. Sherlock couldn't let the third sister go, but he wanted to think on it before returning to Susan's. Maybe wait for Lily to come along.
He went into his mind palace to think, sounds of Rosie playing echoing in his ears, though he had long ago learned to tune it out. However, he could not ignore John suddenly shaking him, and his eyes snap open to find the sun is setting. "What?" he says.
"Your phone," John replies, handing him the device. It's ringing — Molly's calling.
He quickly answers, having a short conversation about her analysis being done while he grabs his coat. After hanging up, he turns to John. "You take Rosie to Mrs. Hudson, I'll get Lily."
John shakes his head. "I'll stay here with Rosie; it's almost her bedtime. You and Lily go."
Sherlock frowns, but Rosie is already starting to rub her eyes, so he doesn't argue and heads down the stairs to 221C. When he gets there, Lily answers the door with flour on her pink apron. A stirring spoon is sticking out of its blue pocket.
"Did Molly call?" she says.
"Just now. John's staying with Rosie, so it will just be us," Sherlock replies.
"And Liam," Lily adds, taking her apron off. She's wearing jeans and a yellow shirt that says 'Fleetwood Mac' with flowers around it. "He really wants to go, and I thought if he came this morning it wouldn't be an imposition for him to come this evening-"
"That's fine."
"Good. Let me just get my keys and the turnovers." She hurries back down the stairs, calling, "Liam! Let's go!"
"Coming!" he shouts back, beating Lily to the front door as she's putting the turnovers in a container.
They go hail a cab, and Lily ends up between Sherlock and Liam when they get in. The ride to St. Bart's is quiet, Lily worried about the turnovers getting smushed in their container because they aren't cool yet, Liam beaming in excitement, and Sherlock retreating into his thoughts.
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Liam, for some reason, decided to help Lily make the turnovers when they got back to her flat that evening. First, Lily made him wait in order to tend to her garden, which was coming along nicely, and then she had to change clothes because she got dirt on her other ones, and by the time she was ready to bake Liam already had everything set out and was searching for the recipe in the box her dad made for her years ago.
"Don't mess those up; I have them in a very specific order," Lily said. If they got out of order, she knew she'd never be able to find anything again.
Liam backed away and let Lily find their grandmother's cherry turnover recipe, and then they got to work — or, Lily got to work and Liam spent too much time finding music to listen to while they worked.
"Are you going to help me or not?" Lily joked. "Either be useful or get out of my kitchen."
"We need music." It was at that moment he noticed the shirt Lily was wearing. "Fleetwood Mac! You're a genius."
It was at that moment Lily noticed the shirt she was wearing. It used to be their mother's, but she gave it to Lily, along with her love of the band. "Right under your nose and it still took you twenty minutes."
"You're being uncharacteristically mean today."
"I'm not mean! I'm just joking."
They put the turnovers in the oven, cleaned up while finishing Liam's Fleetwood Mac playlist, and by the time the turnovers were done, Sherlock was at the door. Now, here they are, pulling up to St. Bart's with thankfully not smushed turnovers.
Liam hurries out of the cab and inside, calling back, "It's this way, isn't it?" while turning down the hallway.
"Yes," Sherlock replies, unfazed by Liam's excitement.
Lily merely chuckles and keeps in stride with Sherlock. Usually he walks a bit quicker than she can manage at a leisurely pace, but he's moving a bit slower now. He looks lost in thought, and Lily almost asks him what he's thinking about but figures it must be the case, and he'll tell her later. Or, if it isn't, he probably doesn't want her to know. She won't pry. But Sherlock suddenly speaks first.
"That's how you make friends, isn't it?" he asks.
Lily looks up at him, confused, before realizing he's referring to the turnovers in her hands. "Oh. Yes, I suppose."
"It's a good plan. I'm sure it always works."
"It does." Lily swallows thickly. "For a while. Not everybody sticks around." And the thought hits her then, and not for the first time, that Sherlock won't stick around, either. He'll lose patience eventually. The fact that they're neighbors won't be enough. A bit of panic rises in her chest.
His brows furrow, creating that little crease between them that Lily's so used to seeing now. "Why not?"
She shrugs, wondering when they'll reach the lab, when they'll change the subject. He'd figure out the answer anyway, she knows he would, so she just tells him. "I'm irritating." The word comes out of her mouth with force.
His confusion seems to grow. "How?"
"Too childish," she mumbles, that other buzzword stinging, remembering how it was said to her — not by Sherlock, by somebody else. The fondness of that memory of Sherlock dulls it a little, for now.
He bristles. "I think you're just the right amount of childish, and the right kind." He isn't looking at her, just staring down the hallway, at Liam's ever-retreating form. "I... am learning how to make friends from you. It's never something I've been good at. But you're the best I've ever seen."
Lily frowns. "You have lots of friends."
"You have more."
"Friends of circumstance. Childhood neighbors, coworkers, my brother's friends — the ones who would put up with me. Even you and John and Rosie and Mrs. Hudson are my neighbors. I can't just... walk outside and make a friend."
"You have an effect on everybody we meet," Sherlock argues, then entering the lab behind Liam and leaving no room for more conversation.