You Are My Mystery {Sherlock Holmes}

Chapter 6*

I walk out of the building and notice Sherlock sitting there, seemingly waiting for me. "Well, are you coming?" He abruptly questions, taking me by surprise. 

"No, but when you are done, you should inform me of the information you gather. Deal?" I ask and he nods in agreement before speaking again.

"Who are you?" He asks then it hits me.

Who are you?
SH

He's the mystery texter. Then I smile to myself at the sudden realization. "I think the real question here is: Who are you?" I inquire before giving him a sly smile making his face lights up in excitement.

"You," he says in realization, now knowing he was texting me.

"So, 'SH' stands for what?" I question, already knowing his first name. I can already assume that the last initial stands for his last name.

"Sherlock Holmes... And your name?"

"I'll tell you my first name. It's Rachelle." I say, not giving him any more information about myself. 

"Well, Rachelle... I'll keep in touch."

"Also, tell John it was nice to meet him," I announce as I turn around to hail a taxi, my arm in the air attempting to catch the attention of a driver. I watch as Sherlock runs away while I tell the driver my address.

***

I get woken up from my much-needed nap by the buzz of my cellphone receiving a text message. I just leave it rest on the floor beside me, not wanting to deal with any matters as I would much rather finish my nap. Soon my phone goes off once more. Grudgingly, I get up and brush myself off before my phone rings once more. I roll my eyes, slightly annoyed at the repeated messages. 

  Baker Street.
Come at once
if convenient.
SH 

I read the first one, my eyes adjusting to the light.

  If inconvenient,
come anyway.
SH

I read the second one, still bored. This was not important enough to wake me from my nap.

  Could be dangerous.
SH 

I finish reading the sentence before sighing. Of course, I get excited at the word 'dangerous'. I grab my coat and run out the door, slipping my shoes on as I'm locking my door. Then I remember I don't have his house address. I send him a text.

Address?
RB

Right away I get a response.

221B
SH

***

I run in the door, not bothering to knock as I was already invited over. "I'm here," I say aloud, but instead I hear a part of their conversation.

"Oh, perhaps I should mention: I didn't kill her," Sherlock replies sarcastically. I then walk up the steps to be greeted by many eyes and yet no words. 

"I never said you did."

"Why not? Given the text I just had you send and the fact that I have her case, it's a perfectly logical assumption," Sherlock states, and I spot the pink bag sitting on the floor. I walk over to it and open it up.

"It would be quite obvious that Sherlock didn't kill her," I mumble under my breath and they both look at me before John looks back at Sherlock.

"Do people usually assume you're the murderer?"

"Now and then, yes," Sherlock replies with a smirk.

"What about you, Rachelle?" John questions and my head slowly turns in his direction. Sherlock told him my name.