Trust in Sherlock: Book 2

Chapter 31- Maggie's POV

Happy Holidays! Here is a gift for you readers that have been waiting for this for oh so long! This is the beginning of the end.

-JJ

The four of us stood silently in the dingy hallway, dust drifting through the air. There was a silence that surrounded us that made my ears ring and my fingers twitch in anticipation as I clasped them behind my back.

There was a soft creak in the floorboards upstairs. It was hardly noticeable and was gone before I was even sure that that's what it was. I glance from Sherlock, to John, then to Kathy. Nothing registered on their faces that they had heard the noise.

I forced myself to ignore it, telling myself that I had plenty more to worry about than a creaky house. That is, if you could even call it a house. Shack was the first word that came to mind as I looked around. It seemed that, at some point in time, it was a beautiful two-story home. Now, the walls were chipped and the wooden floor was rough underneath me. The staircase ahead of me and to the right was lopsided and a few boards were loose or missing altogether.

I strained my ears again, listening for any sign of my landlady in the building. I gave up, only silence floating to my eardrums. As I stood there, I thought back to Ms. Lancer's flat. My mind struggled to find a shred of evidence that would tell me where she was.

There was nothing.

I straightened as this thought hit me. There was nothing. No sign of a struggle. No blood that would signal that she had been forcefully knocked out. Everything was in order besides her stack of mail.

I heard Kathy start to laugh, causing me to lift my head and meet her gaze. Her grin was twisted and mocking. "Are you finally putting the pieces together? I must say, I underestimated your speed. I thought we would have to stand here for a while longer. I figured you'd drink more than a weak wine." She grimaced. "I'm more of a whiskey girl, myself, but-"

"You don't know where she is, do you?" I asked through gritted teeth, my mind finally clicking the details together.

Kathy rocked back and forth on her heels innocently. "Actually, I do. She's visiting her sister. In fact, I believe she returns home tonight."

At this, John stepped forward. "Sorry? Are you meaning to tell us you had nothing to do with her disappearance?"

Kathy shrugged. "Maybe." She sang, looking around the hall with her hands behind her back.

"Then why the hell would you act guilty?" John was both irritated and bewildered by the psychopath a few feet ahead of him.

Kathy grinned and stopped moving. Her sudden stillness made an uneasy shiver run up and down my spine. "Because I am partially responsible." She said, wincing as if she really did feel sorry about her actions.

"I've never been one for riddles." Sherlock muttered, glaring at Kathy intently and reading her every move for a sign of a threat.

Kathy shifted her attention over to Sherlock, sneering as she said, "You don't like jokes, Sherly?" She scoffed, "Then why are you hanging out with Maggot over there?" She jutted her thumb in my direction.

I ignored her statement, as did Sherlock. Instead of responding with a sharp retort, I said, "This is ridiculous. Ms. Lancer is safe and that's all that matters." I turned on my heel so I was now facing the doorway. My eyes had only just then landed on the cracked, wooden frame when I heard a click come from behind me. Instinctively, I froze and drew my hands out of my trouser pockets.

"Now then, since I have no other way of keeping you here, I suppose I'll have to resort to my favourite and much more painful option." Kathy spoke, her smooth, icy voice ringing through my head.

I slowly turned my head to my right, seeing both Sherlock and John standing still with their arms up in surrender. Sherlock was the first to speak. "And what would that do? After you kill her, what would you do?" He lowered his hands as he spoke. "Your life is meaningless and futile. Without Maggie to be your little plaything, you'll have nothing. I find myself highly doubting the possibility of you having friends or even family. If I recall correctly, your father was abusive and your mother committed suicide years ago. Your sibling is nowhere to be found and has no desire to be acquainted with you, so you have no assistance there. You have nowhere to go, Katharine."

With my back still turned, I was unable to see her reactions; however, I heard the silence that followed. It was suffocating and my body was rigid as I waited for something-anything- to happen. My curiosity burnt through my veins, gripping my heart as it overwhelmed me. 

Then a ringing filled my ears, deafening me completely. I found myself unable to move as my mind registered what had happened.

Was that...a gunshot?