Sheridan Holmes: The Last One to Drop (PART 29)

Sheri sat slumped over on her knees against the brick wall of an abandoned building. She stared at the body, with almost a sad look on her face. Eli wanted to comfort her, but she knew Sheri would punch her if she came anywhere near to causing a sappy, comforting, disney moment. So Eli leaned against the wall next to her, watching the outlet of the alley.

The sirens sounded first and then the lights filled the dark crevices of the alley. Eli turned her head to announce their arrival, but Sheri shook her head. "I know. I have eyes, Eli." Eli shrugged and Sheri stood up from her spot carefully, as to not upset the balance that had finally arrived in her abdomen.

Lestrade came out of the police car, followed by three officers and Mark. Sheri eyed Mark in particular, her earlier realization caused quite a stir in her mind. "Okay." Lestrade announced, earning Sheri's complete attention. He paused to let her say something, but when she didn't respond he continued. "You said you had an idea, what is it?" Sheri nodded, mutely. "Well?"

Sheri walked down the alley to a dumpster that had been hurting Eli's nose since they'd arrived. She opened the lid, reached in and pulled out a deformed remains of a green, 2L pop bottle.

"And?" Mark asked as Sheri handed them the bottle.

"Gunshot wound through the heart from a semi-automatic." Sheri explained quickly, "Apartment building across the street, but no one heard a gun going off. You can double check that because I didn't check it a first time. No other reports though, that is obvious. So my guess..."

"Okay, so who did it?" Lestrade asked.

"Getting there. Mark's question first." Sheri shook the ripped open bottle, "If you've solved as many murders as I have, Mark, you'd know that a pop bottle can be used as a low budget silencer for a gun. The kid your looking for is a member of a local gang and an orphan with minor ADHD and lives across the street in apartment 2-Q, but how often he stays there I'm not sure."

"How on earth do you know that?" Mark asked loudly. Lestrade's brow furrowed again.

"You know the kid?" He asked.

"Not well, only since last month. I think he just likes the regular meals from what Ben's told me."

"Ben?" Mark asked.

"You had to be there." Eli interjected. Sheri smiled, and held high-fived her without looking back at her.

"So what, Sheri knows more murderers than me?" Mark said sarcastically, "Good job?"

"More homeless, there's a difference." Sheri snapped. Lestrade held his hands out to keep them from fighting again.

"So, do you know where I can find this kid now?"

"Not exactly, but I'd be happy giving the sketch artist a description. Later though."

"Later?" Mark asked.

"We have more pressing concerns at the moment. Either Lestrade or Eli will be murdered in the coming hours." Sheri said calmly.

"WHAT?!" Lestrade and Eli shouted in unison, followed by a slightly delayed "What?!" from Mark.

"I suggest that both of you take precautions to stay away from strangers." Sheri said, pulling out her phone and preparing for when Lestrade would say...

"Prove it." Sheri didn't exactly smile, but she didn't seem displeased either.

"There is two slowly increasing values in all of these cases. Moriarty's involvement and importance of the victim to me. The first was being followed by Moriarty and I was looking for her, the second was a past client, the third is a friend of mine and Moriarty gave Nolan the murder weapon."

"Nolan?" Mark asked.

"Gave him the gun?" Lestrade asked.

"Of course, in the apartment..." Sheri tapped the picture of the scratch on Ben's dining table and showed it to them. "This was found on the table, it's too clean to be a butter knife and it's going towards Charlotte's space at the table. Meaning that the two had a brutal rivalry. Probably his fault, perhaps drugs are involved here. Anyway, the knife was probably a switchblade based on the local gangs, and knowing the area there is no adolescent gang that has guns. I can assume based on the intelligence of the kid, not to be rude, that someone gave him the idea of using a silencer while they gave him the gun. Moriarty sent a child to kill another child. I can assume the next target will be someone I care about and who cares about me, followed by me. So since neither of you have committed any crimes to expose recently I'd watch your backs."

"Why just them?" Mark asked, his voice going high at the end of his question. Sheri smiled, so obvious and she never thought it before.

"They are my closest friends."

"What about your nurse, or that Irem guy?" Sheri's heart flittered at the sound of his name, despite her mind's protests to deny it.

"Irem is in Nashville and Linda and I are not the closest of friends."

"So you admit you like him!" Eli shouted. Sheri turned to her with a glare.

"More important things going on, Eli!" she yelled. Eli's smile faded and she shrunk back into silence. "Lestrade, I want you to get your family out of town," Lestrade nodded, "And stay in the station tonight, with only your more trusted officers. Eli you need to stay there too. I will guard your office. And for god's sakes don't leave."

Eli looked annoyed, "I can take care of myself." she insisted bitterly.

Sheri glared at her again, "Not from these people you can't. Just trust me and no one's dying tonight." Sheri's phone rang with "Call me Maybe" again. She looked at the text.

II- M

"What'd he say?" Lestrade asked.

"Two, he's affirming my theory." Sheri looked up at the other officers, who were busy talking around the body of Charlotte. "None of them are guarding you two."

***

"You okay?" Eli asked Sheri who was sitting outside of Lestrade's office with a gun in her hand.

"Okay is not a word I'd use." she sighed, still watching both sides of the hall through her peripheral vision.

"Is it a hormonal issue, or the horrible situation we're in?" Eli sat next to her friend, and watched her eyes move side to side down the hall like spotlights.

"Just trying to keep you two safe. The least I can do."

"You don't have to sit here you know, Lestrade says there's enough police working overtime right now to stop a herd of elephants stampeding toward the building."

"I don't trust the force here, they haven't been the most faithful." Eli shrugged. It was true.

"Okay, so what do you mean the least you can do?" Eli asked. Sheri didn't look up.

"I'm the reason you might be killed. The least I can do is make sure who ever it is gets shot in the leg." Eli nodded and thought about it for a second. There was something odd about what she just said.

"Sheri?"

"Hmmm?"

"You said 'gets shot in the leg'. Can't you shoot him, I don't know, dead?"

"I can, but despite popular belief I don't like doing that."

"I don't think that." Eli muttered.

"You just said that."

"Yeah, but the way you said it... It sounded like you expected to die. I was wondering if you thought that he was tricking you into thinking he was going to kill me while he was really going to kill you."

Sheri stared down the hall, letting the silence creep into the conversation. "That is... the smartest thing you've said all year." Eli frowned. Even in the worst situations she was cold and sarcastic. "Obviously the thought has crossed my mind, and I'm okay with that."

"Okay with what?" Eli asked nervously.

"Death, I'm fine with that if I'm protecting you guys."

"You can't be serious."

"I am. In my line of work you make enemies, and only a fool thinks they can always escape death."

"How long has that been your philosophy?"

Sheri turned to the other side of the hall, "Always."

"But you can't die, you won't die."

"So sure?"

"Y-you can't!" Eli stuttered through her anger. "Lestrade would-would never let that happen!"

"If it happens, there won't be much he can do to stop it. This is just a fact, Watson."

"Maybe there would be if you let him know what you are doing before you do it." Sheri leaped out of her chair and looked away from Eli. Her hands clenched into fists and her teeth sinking into her lips.

"There is a difference..." Sheri said in a controlled anger, "There is a difference between keeping him out of the loop and keeping him safe!"

"But he wants to help, Sheri." Sheri took a deep breath.

"He's not the one who should decide that. He has a wife, and kids, and a grandkid. If anything happened to him..."

"They'd want him to help you too." Sheri picked at her lips. She still missed her pipe.

"Lestrade has done everything in his power to help me. I just want to keep him safe this one time."

"That's how friendship works, Sheri. Each side doesn't have to be equal." then Eli muttered. "It never is in your case."

"But each side still has to give a little."

"This isn't a loan, Sheri. If you need help, we'll help you. You don't need to protect us." Sheri looked up, her lips pursed until they turned even whiter than usual.

"Just this once-" she stopped herself, "Mm- Just this once I want to- mm- Can't I- Ugh!" Sheri hooked her foot under the leg of the chair and kicked it down the hall. It scooted noisily for a second than fell over and slid another few inches.

"Why does this matter so much to you!" Eli yelled.

Sheri sulked, pacing the width of the hall.

"It's never mattered before! So why now?!"

Sheri rubbed her hair back, trying to keep her face from getting hot. She hadn't felt this angry since she was 16.

"Sheri, why does it matter?" Eli's voice cracked at the end. Great, Sheri thought, now she's crying. Sheri looked up, just for a peek of confirmation. Her eyes were red, but still dry. About to cry, same diff.

Sheri took a deep breath and made herself look calm again. "Watson," Sheri a said, "If I died today, it wouldn't matter. And don't try to protest, it will get us no where. If you or Lestrade died... You and him have family, friends who care about you. All I have is you two."

"You are my friend, Sheri." Eli whined. Great, now she really is crying.

"Just one friend. You have a life of people who care about you and so does Lestrade. In my life I've hurt more people than I've helped. So if I want to help someone one time, I'm going to try to."

There was a long pause, where Eli sobbed softly.

"Sheri..." Eli asked quietly. "Your plan?"

"What about it?"

"You don't die in it do you?" Sheri didn't answer. She didn't have to. The door of Lestrade's office opened just in time.

"Sheri." Lestrade said, deliberately not looking at the sobbing Eli. "They, uh, found that kid you were looking for."

"What kid?" Eli asked, wiping her eyes dry.

"Nolan." Sheri answered, "But why are you telling me this? Go get him."

"Well, actually..." he looked a little angry as he said this.

"Oh, you need me to go get him." Sheri smiled a little.

"We know around where he is. But he knows the streets and our officers aren't as limber as a twelve year old."

"You could just say, I'm a better officer." she suggested, smiling only a little bit.

"No." Lestrade sighed, "Just, go."

"I'm taking Mark." Sheri said swiftly. Lestrade raised an eyebrow, and Eli even looked up in surprise. "I need someone to watch my back."

"Yeah, but Mark?" Eli choked, her throat was still filled with tears.

"I trust him."

"You hate him!" Lestrade argued.

"I didn't hate Tyler." Sheri countered. Eli and Lestrade both frowned as they remembered Tyler's double crossing during Christmas.

"Fine," Lestrade sighed, "If you want to."

***

"Why am I here?" Mark asked, trying not to bang his head on the side of Sheri's Mustang as she drive down the corners of the streets.

"I trust that you won't shoot me in the back when we get out of the car." Sheri turned, leaving scuff marks on the road as she did.

"It's late though, don't you think we could find him better when it's actually light out?"

"By now he knows what he's done, he'll be too far away tomorrow."

"So how do you plan on finding-" Mark was cut off by Sheri slamming on the breaks. His head sailed forward, almost hitting the dashboard. Sheri's head reared back just before her own head went forward into the wheel. She pulled the keys out and smoothed her hair back.

"You're trying to kill me!" Mark yelled.

"Kind of your fault for getting in the car with me." Sheri got out of the car, and Mark followed. Mark rubbed his head to make sure he wasn't bleeding. Despite not actually hitting the dashboard.

Sheri headed over to a the front of an old, sketchy tobacco shop. Mark looked just in time to see the "Cheap Tobacco" sign hanging above the barred up front, before Sheri opened the door.

"SHERI!" Mark yelled.

Sheri's head spun back to the officer, who was racing toward her. He grabbed her shoulder and yanked her back from the door.

"What the-?" Sheri's rant was interrupted by Mark's own expletives.

"Is it really the right time for a relapse?!" he sputtered.

"No." Sheri said annoyed, "No it's not. And I'm not as weak as you are, Mark." Sheri motioned and Mark saw that she was pointing to a homeless man sitting in front of the store.

"Sorry." he muttered, letting go of her shoulder.

"Yeah. Now if you'd have a little faith." Sheri kneeled down to the man. He laughed once.

"You and your boyfriend are funny." he smiled.

"He is. I'm not." Sheri smiled back.

"I'm not her boyfriend!" Mark interjected, but it only made him laugh harder.

"Sorry, about my friend. Have you by any chance seen a young boy run by here?" The man smiled.

"About an hour ago there was a kid running down. Don't know if that helps though."

"It doesn't." Mark muttered. Sheri turned and glared at him.

"Mark, watch your tone. This man's a war hero. Sorry, William."

"No problem, Sheridan."

"Wait!" Mark said, "You know this guy?"

"Honestly, pay attention today, Mark." Then Sheri turned back to William, "Which way was he going?"

"That way." He pointed down the way Sheri's car was going before they stopped. "He looked pretty tired though."

"Any gun?" William shook his head.

"Just gasping and stumbling up the street. His hands were moving pretty fast, I don't see how he could hold a gun though. He could barely keep his pants up."

"Thank you." Then Sheri looked up at Mark. "You see, Mark. You just have to be nice to people."

***

Sheri's car raced down the street. Again Mark was hoping for her gas tank to empty, as he hurtled faster to each turn. His brain against banged inside of his head. Anymore driving tonight and he would suffer from serious brain damage.

Sheri, thankfully, came to a slow stop outside of an office building. Her eyes were glued to the building as she got out of the car. Mark followed her, wondering what was so exciting about a creepy, dark office building.

"This is it." she told him.

"What's it?"

"He stopped to rest in this office building. You can tell by the distance and the security of the building. If we're lucky, and I usually am, he's still in there."

"How on earth can you be sure?"

"See the side door?" Sheri pointed to a door that was obviously meant not to be part of the showy front. It was spray-painted and rusted. And wide open.

"Okay, now I'm embarrassed." Mark said, as they walked up to the building.

"Should be. Now be quiet."

The inside of the building was pitch black. Mark couldn't even tell if he'd walked into a cubicle or a wall. Certainly he'd almost knocked over enough computers to be have been caught in ten cubicles. Sheri though seemed to be able to maneuver in the dark. She had lost him within the first two minutes of wandering in the black abyss. Or at least he couldn't seem to find her after a while.

He'd decided that there was no point in him wandering around while she was lost and was finding his way back to the door, when he finally heard something.

CREAK! Mark stood perfectly still, waiting to hear if it was just his imagination. When he decided it was just his mind playing tricks on him, he wandered quicker to the door. Then he stopped and listened again. CREAK! This time it was right behind him. He hurried to find his taser, his pepper spray, his gun, something in his pockets. His hands caught something and he pulled it out.

His phone.

Knowing from his police training he only had a few seconds to stop who ever this was before they stopped him. He turned around and snapped a photo quickly. Blinding both him and hopefully the mysterious person following him. He rubbed his eyes furiously as spots of yellow and white danced across his eyes.

Just when he thought it worked, and was about to run, the bat hit him right over the head and Mark fell to the ground unconscious.

Sheri, who was just a few cubicles down, saw the flash and cursed under her breath. She saw spots before her perfectly adjusted night-vision. "Mark!" she hissed, "We can't use flash in here. We're trying to sneak up on this kid!"

She stumbled further into the first floor of the office, kicking her legs under every desk and chair. Then she ventured up the stairs to the comfier managerial offices. Finally, after forty minutes of searching, she kicked under her last desk. Her foot connected with something soft. Before she could even react, the something soft pushed her back with a running leap from under the desk.

She scraped against a large metal filing cabinet corner on her way down, and her right arm filled with warmth. She heard the kid's footsteps. One, two, crash. Sheri grabbed his leg and he fell onto the carpet, barely missing the door handle with his face. When she finally had him wrestled to the ground and secure, she pulled out her phone and called the Lestrade.

"Lestrade, I got him. Send a team to the insurance company on Jackson."

***

Sheri heard the police sirens out the window a minute or two later. After they didn't come upstairs for her, she dragged Nolan down the stairs. What could be keeping them? Sheri wondered. She rubbed her eyes with her free hand as she entered the now brightly lit, first floor offices.

She saw a short round figure amongst the team of officers. Gregson, I should have known.

"I caught him!" Sheri yelled out, "In case anyone was interested." Sheri blinked and suddenly officers were surrounding her. At first she assumed they wanted Nolan. Everyone wants the credit. But then she felt cold handcuffs drag her hands behind her. "What the-!" Sheri struggled, yelling insults as she did.

"Sheridan, Holmes." Gregson growled. Sheri peered through the officers surrounding her. In between two heads, she saw it. The paramedics dragging Mark's body onto a stretcher. "I knew one day, you'd slip."

"Yeah well, it wasn't...okay, I did slip, but not in a psychopathic rampage or in any sense that you're insinu-"

"We have evidence, Sheridan. You tried to kill Mark Stevens." Gregson's stubby digits held up Mark's Blackberry, and her own, shocked blurry face greeted her on the screen.