Moriarty's Musician

Home is Where the Hell is, Part 6

"How could you do it, Sherlock!" John slammed his fist against the wall then glared at his friend. "You messaged Moriarty to come get her? That doesn't make any sense!"

Sherlock didn't flinch as he calmly stared back. "I already told you, John. I did it to protect her."

John shook his head and paced the room. "Protect her? Sherlock, you've served her up to Satan!" he snarled. "You know how vulnerable Annabelle is. Do you honestly think Moriarty's going to go easy on her?"

Sherlock made a steeple with his fingers. "Yes, I do. You underestimate your niece's strength, John. I don't believe in the slightest that she's vulnerable to him."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Moriarty intentionally moved Annabelle here so that I would... grow attached to her." John's jaw tightened as Sherlock continued. "He had every intention of taking her away, but I don't believe he intended on doing it so soon. From what Mycroft told me, she made a big impression at the London Symphony and has already made enemies. They assume she's like her father and as you know, she is now wealthy and potentially, very powerful. The buzz around the elite is that with her wealth and ownership of the largest newspaper in London, she's as dangerous as Magnussen."

John crossed his arms over his chest. "You and I both know, Annabelle is nothing like Magnussen. So how can you tell me she's safe from Moriarty?"

Sherlock leaned back in his chair. "Lady Smallwood and some of my other clients were at the Symphony that night. They told me Annabelle was openly defiant to him. He even tried to kiss her, and she pushed him away."

"What?" John sat down; a line etched between his brows. "He tried to kiss her?"

Knowing his friend, Sherlock decided to keep the knowledge of Annabelle's library encounter with Moriarty to himself. "And in front of everyone, she rejected him."

"But why would he try to kiss her in such a public venue?"

"He was either trying to make a statement to the crowds that she was under his control or..." Sherlock remembered his conversation with Annabelle before she left his flat.

"Or what? Come on Sherlock, out with it."

"I believe your niece has already made an impact on Moriarty. He wanted to kiss her, he couldn't help himself. And even with her public defiance, Moriarty brought her back to the flat unharmed and," Sherlock paused as he looked at John, "unblemished."

John massaged the back of his neck. "So you think he cares for Annabelle? Is that even possible? He's a lunatic!"

Sherlock nodded. "Yes, but he's the best one to protect her, John. She's in grave danger. Whatever Magnussen drilled into her head is enough to make them want her silenced permanently. Moriarty won't let that happen. He'll try and manipulate her to get the information, but I don't believe he'll harm her."

"Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better, Sherlock. We need to find her."

"Yes, John, but not yet. I promise you, the opportunity will present itself. We just need to have a little more patience."

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Annabelle opened her eyes and saw the late morning sun streaming through the window. How long had she slept? She pulled off the covers and gingerly got out of the bed. Her brows snapped together in disbelief as she saw 11 AM on the mantle clock. What happened to her? Here she was in Moriarty's clutches and yet never had she slept so well. It must be the country air, she reasoned, clicking off the lamp on her nightstand.