Sheridan Holmes: The Last One to Drop (PART 28)

Lestrade signed his last piece of paper work and leaned back in his chair, spinning it from side to side slightly. Lestrade rarely got any free time during his work day but in the time he did have he didn't really know what to do with it.

Suddenly the phone rang. Lestrade was both relieved and annoyed as he reached for the receiver. "Yes?" he asked, "What?" he straightened up in his chair. "Who is this? ... Well yeah, but why?" Lestrade closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down before he said something he regretted, "I'll be there in a few minutes, just keep her calm and if she starts threatening you, stop talking."

Sheri. That was why he never had any time off.

***

"Oh good, Lestrade. Would you please explain to these idiots why I need to question this young man." Sheri smiled, but Lestrade didn't.

"Would you explain first?" he asked, signaling the officers to stop guarding her.

"I'm doing a favor for an old client." Sheri said calmly, but she really wanted to go lie down.

"Mm-hmm." Lestrade said unconvinced. "Give me your phone." Sheri gave it to him reluctantly. He unlocked it and scrolled through the iMessages. "And is that client Moriarty?" he showed her the picture Trevor had sent earlier that day.

"I wouldn't call him a client, but now I think it's clear what is going on." Lestrade glared at her.

"This I'm curious to hear." Sheri smiled brightly, despite his disapproval.

"There is a pattern."

"And that is?"

"Me." Lestrade rubbed his temples, "Have a little faith, Lestrade!"

"Yeah, but we already knew he was targeting you." Sheri shook her head.

"No, not just me. First a person I was looking for, then an old client, and now." Sheri bit her lip as she scrolled down to a conversation from an entirely different phone, started just before Lestrade got there.

Lestrade stared at the picture confused. It was a picture of a little girl in an oversized red coat with a blood stain over her heart. She was lying on a dirty concrete floor with one hand over her chest. Obviously it was the latest murder victim, but how he was supposed to find the victim? It was clearly something meant only for Sheri. "And who's this supposed to be?"

"Charlotte." Sheri said closing her eyes sadly. She knew this day would come, but it was still upsetting.

"Charlotte?"

"She's a homeless girl, and I happen to know where you can find her." Lestarde wasn't surprised, this scavenger hunt was meant for her. In the end he was just tagging along for conformation of Sheri's safety and Eli's as long as she insisted on tagging along.

"How?"

"Because I put her there." Sheri sighed. Lestrade raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Uh, Sheri, I think you should clarify that statement." Eli said, walking into the living room of Mickey Carr's house. "You sound like you killed her."

"Fine, I've been smuggling tiny children out of foster homes and into back alleys. Does that sound better?" Eli smiled sarcastically.

"Oddly enough, I think you could have said that better." Eli said.

"Wait, wait, wait." Lestrade cut in, "Sneaking children out of foster homes?"

"Yes." Sheri said, vaguely offended, "Did you not hear me confess to smuggling small children out of the hands of the government?"

"Did you know about this?" he asked Eli.

"Just a few minutes ago." She insisted, shaking her head furiously.

"For how long?" he ruffled his gray hair as he shook his head.

"You remember that one day I didn't come into work when I was still on the police?" Lestrade nodded, "Well I was really sick that day."

"So, why was this a good idea?"

"They were very well cared for if that's what you're implying." Lestrade scratched his head as he tired to figure out what he should say next.

"Okay, assuming we can come back to this topic later, why are you harassing my murder suspects?" Sheri smiled.

"Not harassing, clarifying. And now it is crystal, Lestrade."

"What?" he asked fixing his hair back into place so the dandruff didn't show in the gray streaks. He really wished he could stop scratching his head, but the stress...

"Jolie's room." she began, creating an invisible box with her hands, "It looks suicidal, but there are differences we can all see between the scene and a suicide. I saw the chair, your guys saw the bruises peaking over the choking marks." Sheri held out her hand for Lestrade to hand her the file for Jolie's case. He handed it to her hesitantly.

Sheri pulled a photo out and showed it to them. In the picture Jolie's pale neck was coated in a dark streak, but at the top edges were the small edges of circles. "See these?" Sheri pointed to the circles and the two of them nodded. "Now if I'm correct these bruises were caused by Jolie's abusive boyfriend Mickey. I was a little on edge about this theory until I got here."

"So it was murder?" Eli asked.

"No." Sheri said, continuing like nothing happened, "So the boyfriend is sitting in the room with Jolie. He has been depressed since he was kicked off the football team last year. Jolie's been depressed since he started to hit her. On this particular day, he got too violent. He strangles Jolie and she collapses on the floor. Now from what have been able to gather, the police here think he strung her up to hide his strangulation marks. So it looks like a suicide."

"So it is murder." Lestrade clarifies. Sheri shakes her head.

"Jolie collapses on the ground." Sheri continues, "When she comes to, she realizes she was almost murdered. In her depressed state she decides that if he's going to try to kill her he should get the rep for it. So she fakes her own murder." Lestrade's eyebrows contort into confusion.

"So it was a suicide meant to look like a murder where Mickey was trying to hide his tracks by making it look like a suicide?" Sheri nods proudly and Eli and Lestrade look at each other confused. "That's insane."

"Brilliant." Sheri smiles, "I'll have to remember that one."

"Okay, but he already confessed to the murder." Lestrade motioned to the kitchen where Mickey was being handcuffed. His bulky build slumps foreword, letting his handcuffed hands fall between his knees.

"Of course, and he believes it."

"So what am I supposed to tell him. That he didn't accidentally kill his girlfriend?"

Sheri thought for a second, then she pointed to the kitchen with her index finger. "Don't."

"But he's innocent." Eli argued.

"He strangled Jolie and could have killed her. Let him go to jail for the night, let him think he's guilty and when he breaks down crying let him out."

"Scared straight." Eli remembered.

"Exactly." Sheri said, unlocking her phone again.

"Okay, so what do we do about this Charlotte girl?" Lestrade asked. Sheri was already deeply immersed in her phone, but she looked up and gave a vaguely nervous smile.

"First I need to contact my people." Sheri said, "It may take a few hours, but I can get all my kids out of there by the time we find the body."

"You don't need to do that, I want to meet these kids." Sheri smiled sarcastically up at the old officer.

"You've seen the way I come back from these meetings with the irregulars. Trust me you don't want to spook them."

"Is that how you got hit with the rake?" Eli asked, remembering back to "A Cold Case".

"Exactly." Sheri said standing up, "Plus I need to make sure the rest of them are okay, so I need a few hours before we investigate. I'll call you. I promise." Lestrade looked her straight in the eye.

"Give me one reason..." he said with none of the fatherly tones he usually used with Sheri.

"I don't exactly have a choice to leave you out of this now do I?" Sheri swallowed hard, "Eli I suggest you go home. I'll be a while." Eli frowned.

"I don't see why I can't come with you. I'm not a cop." Sheri didn't look up from her phone as it vibrated in her hand, for about the fifth time that day.

"Yes, but I like to be alone when I visit, it's less of a security risk."

"Security risk?!" Eli yelled, "I'm your friend."

"Really Eli?" Sheri looked up from her phone. "Don't you think I know that?"

"I'm coming with you." Eli insisted. Sheri rolled her eyes and motioned for her to follow.

***

"This is kind of sad." Eli said, watching the homeless people curled up under the bridge as the walked through. Some of them watched the girls, but most of them were to focused on staying warm to care or notice them pass.

"I told you to stay behind." Sheri said, stopping at one little homeless lady who was huddled in a raggedy afghan. "Sam?" the woman looked up and Eli could see her oily blonde hair fall around her pale face as she shivered in the dirt.

"Password?" Sam shivered.

"For god sakes it's me." Sam didn't look impressed. Sheri rolled her eyes and began shuffling around her jacket pockets. Sheri sweared under her breath and took the coat off and threw it to the homeless lady.

"Thank you." Sam smiled and draped the coat around her as she stood up. Sheri shivered, the dress beneath her jacket was short-sleeve and her arms were already covered in goose-bumps.

"Can we just hurry up?" Sheri crossed her arms over her chest and clenched her hands into fists. Sam nodded and they all walked down the length of the bridge in silence. At first Eli was fine with this, she counted the cars that passed on the road around them.

Red one, blue one, black one, black, black, tan, black....

She didn't want to make any eye contact with the homeless people as they stumbled through their journey. Sheri on the other hand deliberately tried to make eye contact and a joyful salute to everyone of them.

"Do you have to do that?" Eli finally asked.

"They make you uncomfortable, Watson?" Sheri asked, smiling to a grimy little man with one hand.

"No, it's just it seems rude." Sheri looked up with an inquisitive smile.

"These are people, Eli. It makes no difference if they are here or in the North Dakota DC."

"You mean Washington D.C." Eli corrected.

"Does it make a difference? My sister owns both."

"One's a state and the other is a governmental district." Sheri shrugged. Suddenly the woman, Sam, turned around.

"The question still stands, Eli." she said.

"What question?" Eli couldn't seem to hide her nervousness.

"Do homeless people make you nervous?"

"No!" Eli defended, "I just think it's rude to ignore the fact that they need actual help."

"And what does averting your eyes do?" Sam asked, crossing her arms as she walked backwards. "If they need help, go help them. If not then don't ignore us. We homeless are some of the best examples of humanity."

"What about the drunks and druggies?"

"Some of the best examples." Sam clarified angrily, "But that's not all of us." She pointed to a man sitting off in the distance against a bridge support. "That man right there saved fifty-eight civilians in Afghanistan. Didn't get a medal or nothing, just came home and never told a soul what he did. And how did the world repay him? Runs from him because he screams sometimes."

"I'm sorry." Eli muttered.

"And I got this friend Trish." Sam continued, "She's got two jobs and two kids. Works all day long, watches her expenses, never misses a rent, walks to work everyday and they still only get school lunches for meals."

Eli didn't respond, she couldn't look up from her feet.

"Then there's the Carlson girl, you remember her, right Sheri?" Sheri nodded, "Got dumped by her boyfriend after she got pregnant and gave up college to marry him, she's no druggie. I know a lot of good people dependent on those food stamps, and just one of them is a druggie."

"Sorry." Eli said again.

"You better be." Sam said, "Cause I walk around these streets sometimes, and all of you are on your phones. And if you're not you're walking right past me with you're eyes on the curb and you feet barely touching the cement. God help you if you ever need help."

"Sorry." Eli repeated.

"I'm not feeling the regret, but with a few dollars..."

"Not happening." Sheri shook her head, "If I had money In my pockets I'd by a bar of chocolate."

"Ah, me too." Sam smiled. She lifted the coat over her shoulders and took the afghan out from under and tossed it to Sheri before pulling the coat over her arms again. Sheri rapped it around her gratefully. "You looked like you needed it."

"Eli give her your gloves." Sheri said.

"What, why?"

"You need to redeem yourself." Eli pulled her gloves off angrily and handed them to Sam.

"And thank you very much." she smiled pulling them over her hands, and holding them out in front of herself to admire them.

"Yeah, well enjoy them." Eli grumbled.

***

Knock, pause pause, knock, knock, pause, knock, knock, knock. Sam knocked on the door of old creaky apartment door. Eli couldn't imagine anyone living in this dump, let alone children. The carpets of the halls were as hard as cement and caked with gum and mud. The walls were slightly, but noticeably, tilted to the left. The smell of smoke tickled her nose and made her sneeze quite a few times, and it didn't seem to be helping Sheri's mood either.

Thankfully, as the light flickered annoyingly over Eli's head, the door of apartment 2-Q opened. A teenager about seventeen appeared in the doorway with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth and dripping toothpaste foam on his white T-shirt. He paused to spit in the trashcan by the door then frowned at them.

"Sheri?" he asked, "I thought you said you'd only come in disguise."

"That is not the pressing concern." she said with a bland face. "Are the rest of you okay?"

"Rest?" he asked, "What do you mean rest?"

"Charlotte...she's dead." Sheri told him almost faintly angry. The boy's face went slack, and his toothbrush dropped to the ground. After a few seconds he shook his head and motioned them inside.

"What happened?" he asked, as Sheri sat down on a queen sized bed that sat in the main room, which seemed to be the biggest room of two. It held the kitchen, a small table with six chairs, and a small bathroom with a door still ajar.

"That's what I'm here to figure out, I need you to get out and hide down by the highway with Sam for a while. The police insist on conducting their investigation, and I don't want the others getting nervous while they're surrounding the building." Sheri stretched her neck to look out the window.

"Well, they're at school now. Do you have someone making sure they don't come back here?" Sheri nodded.

"I sent the message out, I just figured I'd tell you in person." Sheri glanced over at the table two feet to her left.

"It's more than that." he decided, instinctively clearing away the junk on the table.

"Just a theory." she said, standing up and checking out a long scratch going diagonal around one of the plastic edges. "Who sits in this chair?" she pointed to one of the fold-up chairs.

"Nolan. And Charlotte sits right next to him."

"Sam, toss me my phone." Sheri said, her eyes fixed on the long scratch. Sam put a hand in her pocket, raised an eyebrow for second then pulled out the phone and handed it to Sheri. Sheri took a picture of the scratch and looked around the room again. "Ben, change of plans. I'm gonna need you to take the kids to a hotel for a while."

"What, why?"

"Because this room just became the basis of a murder. Sam has my debit card, just have her rent you the room and wait until I contact you." Sheri typed something on her phone as it vibrated in her hand. Her teeth clenched as she absorbed the words on the screen for about the twentieth time that week, and she went back to texting.

Lestrade, meet me on Carla road. Have an idea, won't say til I'm sure.