Abnormal

Chapter One

I closed my book, got out of my chair, walked over to my bookshelf, and placed The Valley of Fear, a Sherlock Holmes mystery, back on the shelf. It was a satisfying mystery, solved, of course, or else it wouldn't be complete. As you may or may not already know, Sherlock is a consulting detective, the only one in the in world. I ran my index finger along the binds of all my Sherlock books and paused on The Sign of the Four. Yes, this one would do. I placed the book on my bedside table and sat down in my computer chair, spinning a few times before stopping. I looked about my room; my walls were covered in pictures, sayings, words, tidbits of this and that. It was cluttered, but I liked it that way it helped me think.

My name is Laurel and I'm seventeen. I don't like my name; I thinks it's too predictable. I hate predictable. Seventeen isn't so bad but eighteen will be better. I looked at my clock, 9:09 PM. exactly two days since Dylan O' Donell was found dead in his home with a knife in his chest and the police still haven't solved the case. They're losing their touch so I try to help them out once in a while, you know, speed things along. I pulled a white envelope out of my desk and wrote the police department's address in all caps and sealed my note inside. I solved the case a few hours ago. This one was fairly easy; it was the ex-girlfriend, it always is. Like I said, predictable.

Unlike Sherlock Holmes I love to sleep. My mom likes to stand outside my bedroom door and knock so loud it sounds like she's going to bust the door down, interrupting my amazing dreams. I can control my dreams to some extent. I just play out a story in my head so when I fall asleep the story continues. I do it to help me solve tough cases by playing out a scenario in my sleep.

I got out of bed, walked over to my stereo, and turned it on. The incredible sounds of Lindsey Stirling, a contemporary violinist, filled my ear drums. I got dressed in the usual skinny jeans, brown leather boots, white button-up, and navy blue blazer. Some people call my style preppy but I call it functional. As I headed down the stairs for breakfast I paused in the stair well to listen to my parents' conversation. My dad, who is a policeman and also my top reason for keeping my crime solving interferences a secret, was talking. I only caught snippets of the conversation.

"It just showed up again . . . They were right . . . She was brought in early this morning for questioning. I don't know who it is or how they do it but they're good, I'll give them that."

I smiled and walked into the kitchen.

"Ahh, morning Laurel."

"Morning, Dad"

"We solved the case. It was the guy's ex-girlfriend."

"Always is." I sat down.

"Sweetie," Mom said, "you look so pretty with your hair down. Why don't you wear it like that more often?"

"Because, Mom," I tugged my hair into a ponytail, "It isn't functional. It gets in the way."

Mom placed my breakfast plate in front of me and lifted her eyebrows. "Well, you're wearing it down tomorrow. Dylan's family has invited all the police who were working on the case to his funeral."

Dad wiped his mouth with his napkin and sat back in his chair. "They're also asking the mysterious solver to come as well, so maybe we can finally meet him or her."

"Maybe." But I knew they wouldn't.

It started raining as soon as we pulled into the funeral home parking lot. Typical. Mom had just spent an hour straitening my wavy brown hair and now it would be ruined. When we walked into the parlor we were directed into a large room with three large windows and cream colored cushioned chairs. To the right and at the front of the room was the casket where Dylan was laid. There were lots of flower arrangements made up of lilies, daises, carnations, and roses. I didn't think I knew anyone there but after quickly surveying the room I thought I saw a familiar face but couldn't place it.

I sat down in one of the chairs by the window and closed my eyes. Sherlock has this mind palace where he stores all his information. I tried to do the same and access the "save for later" room but its quite hard and takes a lot of concentration. After a few seconds I got it. When I solved Dylan's case and wrote the letter I missed the mailman so I paid some kid on the street to run it in to the police station. I tried to not let anyone see me but out of the corner of my eye I spotted a man. Tall, muscular, brown hair, gray eyes, about twenty and handsome. He was watching me. By the time I fully faced his direction, he was gone so I didn't really think twice about him. He was just a typical guy, nothing special about him. Big mistake because now he was watching me once again.

I opened my eyes and looked at the south left corner of the room. There he was, leaning against the wall. He smirked.

For once, someone was two steps ahead of me and I didn't like it. This man, this typical guy who I now realized was not typical at all, had managed to shake me to the core. I realized I was still staring at him when he raised his eyebrow at me. I quickly looked away. He wasn't at the police station by chance. He was watching me; he knew who I was and he was totally unpredictable.

My mind was a race horse bursting from the starting gate. Who was he? Why was he here? Hadn't anyone noticed him? I risked another glance at him. He was still staring at me. The questions were endless. I didn't know what to do so I walk over to my dad.

"Do you know him?" I nodded in the direction of the strange man.

"Not personally, but I know he was a very good friend of Dylan's. Why?"

"No reason." My dad walked over to talk to one of his friends and I frowned. Now I was confused. Was he really just Dylan's friend? Dylan's mom, a tall woman with caramel hair and way too much makeup, walked over and hugged the mysterious guy. He whispered something in her ear and she whipped around to look at me. I had an unsettled feeling I was about to be found out. She made her way over to me, greeting people as she came.

"I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself to you sooner," she said. "Bryan said you were sitting by yourself. I'm Darla." She stuck out her hand.

I smiled and shook it. Bryan. Finally, a name. "I'm Laurel. Would you mind introducing me to Bryan?"

"No, not at all. He's a very nice boy."

We walked over to the corner in which he stood.

"Bryan, this is Laurel. Laurel, Bryan." There was an awkward moment of silence before she said, "Well, I need to go speak to the minister before the ceremony."

Once she left Bryan gestured to two chairs behind him and we both sat.

"Sign of the Four," he said

"What?"

"You're reading Sign of the Four. Enjoying it?"

I turned in my chair to look at him. "How do you know?"

He turned too and raised his eyebrows. "I also know that your mother spent an hour straitening your hair this morning and every night before bed you put on lip moisturizer and lotion, get all warm under the covers, and turn out your red lamp. Disturbed?" He looked around the room.

Yes, I was disturbed. He had been watching me, but for how long?

"Six months," he said, as if he had the ability to read my thoughts. Could he? No, impossible. He again looked at me with his piercing gray eyes.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I was bored and you are interesting. Now, since I know your little, no, big secret, you will do exactly what I want."

He really freaked me out. I was a little too lost in his beautiful gray eyes. I didn't want to please him by showing it so I decided to look confident. "Blackmail, really?" I said.

He chuckled as if I was a child stating the obvious. What was he playing at? What did he want?

"If you've read the Sherlock books or seen any of the movies, which you have, you'll know exactly what I'm playing at, and what I want you to do is cooperate." Again, the creepy mind-reading thing.

Abruptly, he got up, walked out of the room, and didn't come back. My stomach churned because I did know what he was playing at. I was Sherlock and he was Moriarty.

Hey guys! so, this is my first book. I Have been working on it since October. If you know of someone who can make me a cover let me know! Please comment, Follow, Vote!

XO Laura