Believe in Sherlock

Chapter 1

It was Christmas Eve. The snow was falling into Margaret's eye lashes and into her hair as it crunches under her boots. A happy expression was on her face, which is a rare occurrence for more of the time she tends to be content rather than joyful. The pavement stretches out in front of her as she walks closer to her destination.

All is silent except for the occasional car or cab that drives past her. She had forgotten her wallet at her flat, causing her to promptly walk instead of catching a cab.

She observes everyone around her, catching details about their lives through a single glance.

She always kept her deductions to herself. Nobody seems to find them, how should I put it, normal. They look at her strangely or just flat out stare at her. She's learned to shut up.

She continues walking until she hears violin music coming from the building across the street.

She turns her head and looks over at a flat window facing the street. A man stood at the window playing the strings of the violin. He was watching her thoughtfully. She observed him from where she was.

He had curly black hair with strong cheekbones. He was rather tall and thin. He wore a button up shirt and he tucked it into his pants.

Another man walked up behind him. He was shorter than the tall man playing the violin. He stood like a soldier probably from Afghanistan. He rubbed his fingers against his palm as he followed the violin man's gaze. His blonde hair was neat and orderly. He obviously lived there from the mail he held in his left hand.

They were both looking at Margaret and she looked at them.

She finally tore away her gaze and continued walking. She didn't recognize either of them but she would definitely remember them.

Margaret's flat was only a block away and she walked quickly, wanting to get to her warm flat as quick as possible.

Her flat was warm compared to the cold temperature outside. She shrugged off her jacket and pulled out her phone. She just stared at it mindlessly. She didn't have any friends to talk to and both of her parents hardly spoke to her anymore. They headed for America a few years ago and she hadn't heard from them since. Her sister...well She hadn't heard from her in years.

She put her phone on the coffee table and then flipped on the telly. Nothing on as usual. She settled down into her seat and just closed her eyes. Her mind racing as if it were a car speeding around a track.

She was interrupted by her phone buzzing. She ignored it at first, but it buzzed again, and again.

Margaret snatched it up and viewed the messages.

I would like to meet you. Lunch tomorrow. -MH

She scrolled down to read the next message.

Just us two. Private information. Tell nobody. -MH

And to the last one.

It involves a murder. May need some suggestions. -MH

She grinned at the last one.

You had me at murder. Noon good for you? -MJ

She replied and placed her phone back into her pocket. She didn't have a clue at who this person was but she never wanted to miss out on an opportunity to an adventure.

Perfect. See you tomorrow Miss. Jones. -MH

She put her phone on the coffee table and headed for her room. She rarely slept in here. She spent most nights either thinking or working.