Dancing with the Devil // Jim Moriarty

•Chapter 14: Fragile Memories•

The Chief Superintendent's house looked like any other British family home and laid nestled into a rather secluded street in the suburbs of London. Whilst he wasn't rich by any means, he could still afford a relatively big home with a nicely groomed front yard. The two story brick house was surrounded by medium high hedges, a small gate blocking the empty driveway.

"Thomas Wilson won't be home until at least eight PM. We should be fine." Lestrade said, turning off the engine of his SUV.

Nodding, I turned my heads towards him and unbuckled my seatbelt. "I know. Anne and the kids are at home. They are expecting us, so we better get started."

Lestrade followed my example and got out of the car, closing the door a little louder than necessary before he walked to where I stood on the sidewalk. "Sherlock should be here any minute. Let's wait for him."

Confused, I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest. "You called Sherlock?"

Not feeling guilty at all, the detective only shrugged his shoulders. "We'll get this done much faster with him. Plus, you two need to spend more time together again."

Ah. Now it made sense. Sighing deeply, I rolled my eyes in annoyance. "Mycroft told you to involve him, didn't he?"

Yesterday, when I had visited the older Holmes brother for our annual Christmas hangout, he had made it blatantly obvious that he wanted me to keep an eye on his little brother. To help him get over Irene Adler's death. And to strengthen our bond again which, according to Mycroft, had been quite strained since the consulting detective found out I was living and working with Moriarty, his nemesis.

Lestrade nodded. "Did you know that he can be quite scary when he wants to be?"

"You just give into him too easily, Greg."

I wondered whether Jim knew where I was already. When I had left his flat this morning, he had been in an online meeting with a client, so I had simply asked one of his henchmen to drive me to Scotland Yard, since Sebastian had been out as well. I had no doubt said man had informed Jim where he had dropped me off. Maybe the consulting criminal had already read the mail and had put the puzzles pieces together. However, it worried me that I hadn't even received a text from him so far. I had a feeling he didn't like that I was trying to solve this case the legal, official way and worked with Sherlock and Lestrade instead of asking Jim for help.

"Why did you think it was necessary to have me look at what's got to be the most boring case in England right now?"

Sherlock's voice made me turn my head to where they locked on the tall figure of the consulting detective. As usual, he wore his signature long coat and scarf, his brown hair tousled from the gentle breeze. With his long legs, it only took him two more strides until he came to stand next to us, his eyes wandering over the house.

"Wait, don't tell me. I bet this was Mycroft's idea. Explains why you're here alone." He emphasized the last words heavily and made it very clear whose absence he was referring to. Now, I had proof he still wasn't fond of my involvement with Moriarty and that he would likely never be. "He wants us to bond like the perfect little family that we aren't."

"You're right. Anyways, let's just get this done with. There's an advantage in numbers, isn't there? We should be done in a matter of minutes, won't we Sherlock?" With determined steps, I walked towards the white front door and pressed the doorbell, a shrill noise ringing through our ears. My company was flanking me on both sides like bodyguards, towering over my shoulders.

"Oh trust me, we will," was his ominous answer.

Not even a second later, the door opened slowly and a timid woman in her forties was looking at us. I didn't have to be Sherlock to see the blue and yellow shining through her make-up. Although she had tried to do her best to hide the telltale signs of domestic abuse, it was obvious she was suffering in every way. There were deep circles underneath her eyes, her clothes were a size too big and her shoulders slouched, as if she had given up a long time ago.