You See But Do Not Observe

TOBY

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT : TOBY

The next couple weeks went by in a second. So many cases, so little time, Sherlock would say.

A second of infinity, maybe. Serena could feel herself slipping down those two weeks. The best thing about falling was half the time you didn't know until you hit the ground running.

She supposed she hit the ground when Toby came around.

The day after Michael's trial, Sherlock was presented with a case. Murder. Serena had a sneaking suspicion Sherlock knew who the killer was from the moment he got the call. He was excited, Serena could tell. She couldn't feel the same adrenaline rush he did at the news of a murder, but she came along anyway.

"What have we got?" Sherlock asked as they stepped onto the crime scene.

"I don't want him here!" Anderson protested. "Or his girlfriend, for that matter."

"I think I'm the boss last time I checked, Anderson, thank you." Lestrade said loudly before holding up the tape. Anderson ducked back inside as Sherlock stepped under it and immediately was accosted.

He stumbled backwards into Serena, who sidestepped. A large dog was whirling in circles around Sherlock's feet, barking rapidly. Serena saw a man jogging toward them, and noticed the dog's trailing leash. She grabbed the end and tugged the dog toward her.

"Shh, boy, it's okay. Calm down." She said soothingly, holding onto the leash tightly. The dog whimpered and she squatted next to it.

"Why on earth do you have a dog at a crime scene?" John asked, squatting besides it and running his hand along it's frame.

"He belonged to the victim. We have a man from the animal shelter here, but he was having some trouble getting him under control."

"He's under control now." Serena said, and the dog licked her hand before she could pull back. It was a beautiful German Shepard, young, his deep brown eyes staring at Serena.

In a second, the dog pulled from Serena's grip and dashed back to Sherlock, panting up at him.

"The dog likes you more than me. I see how it is." Serena said as she stood.

"Where is the victim?" Sherlock asked.

"Inside." Lestrade began walking toward the front door, and Sherlock followed. The dog trailed after him.

Sherlock turned around and stared at the dog fiercely. "Stop following me. It's putting me off."

The dog sat and cocked its head. Sherlock's face softened, and Serena held back a laugh at his begging expression.

"Oh, alright. Serena, could you at least hold onto it?" He said resignedly.

Serena took up the leash again and followed Sherlock and John inside.

"No. No, no, no! I will not have some mangy animal ruining my crime scene!" Anderson said as Serena walked in. To her surprise, the dog growled at Anderson, who took a step back.

"That mangy animal is smarter than you Anderson. What does that make you, a goldfish?" Sherlock said as he walked over to the limp body on the bed.

"Christopher Tanner, age 46. Died of a bullet to the head. No gun."

"Oh, too simple." Sherlock said.

"Sorry?"

"It's too simple! The dog could figure this out. Serena, come here."

Serena handed the leash to Lestrade and strode over to Sherlock.

"Who killed him?"

"Just like that. You want me to figure it out."