Sheridan Holmes: The Last One to Drop (PART 30)

"Sheridan Holmes you are convicted of attempted murder, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you...Sheridan, do you understand? Is she listening? Someone pull those headphones out of her ears." An officer who was guarding her on the left, yanked a set of headphones out of her ears.

"They aren't even plugged into anything." Sheri said calmly to the officer.

"Then why wear them?" he asked.

"They help keep people from starting a conversation." she let her head fall back on the edge of her chair. These chairs were hard, now that she thought of it. Or maybe they were harder on this side of the interrogation.

"Sheridan, you're being convicted for a serious crime. If you confess now, maybe we can lower your sentence."

Sheri rolled her eyes. The conversations were definitely more tedious on this side. "Please, I didn't try to kill anyone. And if I did, I'd do a lot better at hiding my tracks. I would have, I don't know, deleted the picture on the phone. Or killed him when I wasn't the only person around. Or maybe, perhaps, actually kill him."

"I think you'll need a bigger shovel." the officer to her right whispered. Sheri glared.

"I'm a psychopath. So what? You always assume the lonely, angry psychopath did it. Why not the mercenary hiring crime ring leader?"

"For all we know that could be you."

"What, I just called up an old childhood nemesis and asked him to pretend he wanted to kill me so I could get away with murdering an officer?"

"You thought of it." he pointed out.

"Please, I can prove I didn't do it."

"How?" Sheri smiled and leaned to the left so that she could look at the one-way glass.

"How about Lestrade questions me first?!" she yelled. Sheri paused, and waited for the door to swing open. And it did. Lestrade, Eli, and, surprisingly, Mark walked in. Mark, didn't look angry at her, but he had a cut on his lip, and a nasty bruise on the side of his face that he was holding an icepack to.

"Well?" Lestrade asked, closing the door behind them.

"Now you unlock the handcuffs." she pulled on her chained hands.

"How about no." he countered without a hint of kindness in his voice.

"I'm unarmed. My knives are in the pockets of a homeless woman."

"You don't need knives."

Sheri shrugged, "Fine then, ask away." Lestrade's gaze hardened.

"Why did you ask Mark to come with you in the first place?" he asked.

"Let Mark out of the room first." Sheri suggested calmly.

"Why, Sheri?" he commanded.

"To save him some embarrassment." Mark perked up in confusion. Then panic spread across his face, as he realized what she was about to say. Lestrade however, was unconvinced. "Fine, Mark may see your hand?"

"His hand?" Lestrade asked skeptically. Mark hurried over and held his hand out for her. She took it and pressed her index finger lightly against his inner wrist. Mark averted his gaze from her, but Sheri could see his pupils dilate again. She smiled.

"See?" Sheri said, letting his hand go.

"I think so." Eli smiled. She tried unsuccessfully to muffle her giggling under hand. Mark scuttled back beside Lestrade, still hiding his gaze from the confused officers in the room.

"What?" Lestrade demanded.

"Gosh, do I have to spell I out for you?" Sheri laughed, smiling like a maniac which probably didn't make her look very innocent. "How about you do the honors, Watson?"

Eli nodded and contained her laughter behind a wide smile. "Mark," Eli nodded at the embarrassed officer, and Eli burst into laughter. Lestrade's jaw dropped and he turned to his good friend in surprise and somewhat horror.

"You!?" he yelled, "You, of all the people?...god, it must be the apocalypse."

"No, it's not." Sheri continued, swallowing her laughter again, "I told you though, Moriarty would be targeting people that I cared about and people who cared about me. If I hadn't brought him along, he would have been the only one they'd be aiming at even with the pack of officers. Moriarty wouldn't have to use one of his better guys, he'd only need to get on the outside of the building. Which his much less protected."

"So, why not just tell him to hide out too?" Eli asked. Sheri waved away the question as best as she could handcuffed to the table.

"He wouldn't accept the idea, the only way I could keep him safe like that is to expose his...infatuation and that doesn't make a good ally, or...friend."

"So to protect him," Lestrade clarified, "You took him to the dark building with a murderer?" Sheri shrugged.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time. Obviously a misjudged Mark's ability to navigate in the dark."

"Okay," Lestrade nodded, "If, I accept that explanation," Sheri rolled her eyes, "Then what do I do with the mountain of evidence piling up?" Sheri looked up at him curiously, "The kid says he saw you hit him over the head with the same weapon forensics say was used on Mark."

"And you believe him?"

"Wasn't it you," Eli said nervously, "That just yesterday said the homeless weren't always liars?" Sheri glared at her, as she tried to separate her feelings of anger and betrayal.

"The homeless are usually trustworthy. Murderers aren't."

"Witnesses to attempted murder are usually trustworthy." Lestrade countered. Sheri shook her head.

"Are we forgetting that I found the kid on the third floor? He wasn't even on the first floor. I can prove it too."

"How?" Lestrade asked. No one else was daring to interrupt them.

"The cut on my arm, I slammed into a cabinet." Sheri waved her arm around, waiting for one of the guards to roll up her sleeve. When he finally did, it revealed a long gash of dark red on her pale skin.

"We investigated that thought when you screamed it at the office building." Lestrade said almost smiling. "The only blood stains we found were Mark's and a sample on a a cabinet near Mark's body. And guess what? It matches your blood." Sheri looked confused for a second.

"But I saw it, when I went downstairs I saw the blood on the edge of the cabinet."

"Well, we have evidence to support the opposite."

Sheri folded her hands and thought quietly for a few seconds. Then she smiled. "Oh, that's brilliant." she laughed. "I knew there was a reason he picked now."

"What?" Mark asked.

"He had people in there to murder Mark and clean up the blood. He made the kid push me into the cabinet, so I wouldn't have proof!"

"And where did he get a sample of your blood to plant?" Lestrade glared. Sheri's smile faded.

"Don't tell me you secretly donate blood." Mark asked.

"Not exactly." Sheri said softly. "May I speak to Eli privately?"

"Sheri..."Lestrade warned.

"Just a minute then I'll tell you." Lestrade shrugged and waved the other officers out. He followed hesitantly, taking one last suspicious glare at Sheri.

Eli looked at Sheri expectantly. Sheri didn't look up.

"Well?" Eli asked.

"I know where he got the blood." she said softly.

"Great, tell Lestrade."

"Can you?" she sighed, then waved Eli over.

Eli nodded, anxious to have this whole mess over with. She leaned in for Sheri to whisper into her ear. Slowly Eli's face became grim. "That's disgusting." Eli informed her when Sheri was done.

"Disgusting but brilliant." Sheri admitted.

"Do you really think he'd go that far?"

"It wasn't him collecting it." Sheri pointed out.

"Point." Just at that moment the door swung open again and the officers went back to their original spots.

"Well?" Lestrade demanded.

"Um..." Eli stumbled. She looked over to Sheri for support, but she was already hiding her face again. "Sheri uh...Lestrade can I speak to you in private?" Lestrade rolled his eyes and the two of them retreated into the hallway.

"What's with all the fuss?" he asked.

"Sheri, uh, thinks that Moriarty got the sample from... Um..Sheri. Ugh!" Eli rubbed her forehead as she tried to force an explanation out of her mouth. "You have a daughter right?" Lestrade raised an eyebrow, but he nodded. "Well, you know once a month-"

"I'll stop you right there." Lestrade looked away from Eli awkwardly. "Well, I guess that explains a lot." Lestrade motioned to the door of the interrogation room, and they came back in.

"Well?" Mark asked.

"I believe her." Lestrade announced.

"What?" one of the officers asked. "What could she possibly have said to convince you just like that?"

"I said, I believe her. The reason is none of you business."

The guard glared at Lestrade.

"Well I don't." he growled, "Psychopath, with a record, a motive, and a butt load of evidence against her. It all fits."

"Please!" Sheri begged sarcastically, "'Fitting' is not a requirement. The requirement is that I say it's true."

"Yes, the convicted felon needs to tell us who did it." He retorted in a snarky tone.

"Uh, duh!" Sheri yelled, "Please, I am innocent. I've proved it to the person in charge, and I need to go to the bathroom." She shook her handcuffs. "NOW UNLOCK THE DANG HANDCUFFS!"

"No." he glared.

"Just let her use the bathroom." Eli sighed.

"AND UNLOCK THESE CUFFS!" Sheri yelled anxiously.

"Why should I?"

"Because I told you to." Lestrade barked.

"Not until I get a good reason to believe her."

"Seriously, dude." Mark cut in, "Even I can see she didn't hit me."

"Why!?" he demanded.

"Because, if you don't let me use the bathroom...." Sheri growled, "You'll be finding out where the blood came from by scrubbing it off this seat!" The insubordinate officer turned red, as did everyone in the room. He silently took the keys out of his pockets and unlocked her from the cuffs attached to the table. "Thank you." She glared, standing up angrily. "Now, if you excuse me." Lestrade calmly opened to door for her. Sheri stole a glance at the old officer.

The detective's frown had disappeared. Back again, was his sweet fatherly face that he used to remind Sheri that she was not alone. She had finally earned back his trust, or at least justified lying to him.

***

Eli sat on her couch with her laptop. Her fireplace was crackling and everything was back where it should be. Sheri was back in Lestrade's favor and Moriarty's threats were over.

I'd never seen Sheri so on edge.

Eli wrote on her blog.

She was never fully relaxed until the end. I still don't think she's relaxed, but I hope she'll be able to get some sleep tonight. She hasn't slept since the first part of the case. You see a yarn saleslady was murdered just a few streets down, the only strange thing was the fact that "Moriarty" was carved into the fingertips. A fact that Sheri had missed when she initially checked the body-

Slam! Eli stopped writing for a second when the front door of the apartment building closed.

***

Sheri left the apartment in a hurry. She was sure the sound of the door slamming shut would tip Eli off, but her mustang pulled out of the parking lot with no interruption. After an hour or so drive, Sheri pulled up at Niagara Falls. As in the Niagara Falls, the Waterfall tourist attraction. Not the casino, or city plagued by Indian restaurants.

She trudged through the frozen roads to the appointed meeting place. The dock of the "Maid of the Mist" was an ice field from the spray of the waterfalls. "Okay, 'Moriarty' I'm here." She called out.

"All aboard!" Trevor's voice called from the boat.

"This is supposed to be in the shipyard this time of year." Sheri pointed out, boarding the white boat. The wood floor creaked as she walked on.

"I know a guy." Trevor said, coming out of the darkness in a dark green peacoat. He snapped his fingers and the boat lurched forward.

"It takes longer to get a boat started." Sheri commented, watching him calmly. She knew what was going to happen. The plan laid out carefully in her head, this was step one. Get captured, check.

"Are you going to obsess about every detail. There are more exciting things going on then a tour boat."

"One, it's my job to obsess. And two, if you're involved there is always something interesting going on...unless it involves numbers."

"Numbers, you have agreed, can be very interesting." Trevor hit the send button on his cellphone, which was facing up just above his wool pockets. "Like for instance."

Sheri's phone rang again with the familiar "Unknown Number" ringtone. She pulled it out, only glancing at the message. "One." she read aloud, "How predictable. How about we go to negative 8 instead?"

"No," he chuckled, "I like where we're going right now."

"How about seven?" Sheri suggested slyly. Moriarty twitched slightly. His cool attitude left him for a second to allow room for a nervous gasp and a hesitant glare. Then, as soon as it appeared, it left. "Still got that attraction to numbers?"

"I'm not 'attracted' to numbers." he insisted coldly, "I love numbers."

"Still afraid of seven though." she smirked. He twitched again, a frown deepened into his unnaturally not memorable face.

"Seven is cruel and scarring." he said quite calmly for his expression. "I much prefer one. For instance," Moriarty pulled the silver barrel of a gun out of his pocket.

"One bullet?" Sheri observed.

"Possibly. I do hate to get my hands dirty, but this is the best way to end a good story."

"Why?" Sheri asked calmly. As calm as she could look in the loud shade of purple her jacket was. Well, not her jacket. Eli's jacket, but it was the only warm coat she could find aside from her firefighter's coat which was only slightly less inconspicuous.

"Because, you're the last heir." Moriarty said as he wiped the cold barrel against the hem of his coat. This caught Sheri off guard. The word "heir" was definitely not part of the plan. "Oh, so you don't know." Moriarty smiled.

"Not exactly, no." Sheri frowned, what an unusual sensation to not know something.

"M.O.R.I.A.R.T.Y." Trevor explained, "Eight leaders, eight heirs to their share of the power. Each original member picked an heir to take over when they couldn't continue."

"So you're trying to claim all the power by eliminating the heirs? Not the most productive plan. Since you're the only who knows about the heirs."

"Oh, I don't intend to keep all the power for myself." he smiled softly, "I'm testing the heirs, seeing which are worthy. Your sister was much less talkative when I tested her."

"Oh, so My's an heir too?" Sheri thought quickly, adapting her plan to the new conditions.

"Your mother's. You are Brooke's heir."

"Good to know my dad still cared." Sheri said sarcastically, "Did my sister pass?"

"How about I explain the test first and you ask her later?" Moriarty watched her eyes as they absorbed every piece of information about the boat. Twenty years old. A weak spot on the right side of the frame. Frequented by tourists. Not built to be in the ice. The boat made a loud creaking sound as it scraped against a chunk of ice.

"Assuming I pass." Sheri's eyes landed on the gun in Moriarty's hand.

"Well, the information won't help you much if you don't. So how about it, a game of wits?"

"Haven't I proved myself by now? Captured seven british crime ring leaders, solved four crimes of yours this week and countless others before." Moriarty pretended to consider her argument.

"Nah, I'm not convinced. Tell you what, I'll give you one hour. If by the end of that no one is trying to kill you, you've passed and I'll leave you alone." he paused for dramatic affect and made his best attempt at an attractive smile. "Unless you want to join me afterwards."

"In your dreams." she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"My nightmares really. Accept?"

"Why?" She asked blandly, her eyes fixed on his.

"Elaborate on this question." Trevor said annoyingly.

"Why continue Moriarty?" He smiled.

"What can I say, it's fun." There was a pause as a chunk of ice hit the side of the boat and sent them all slightly off balance for a second. "I'm a Sociopath, it's fun to see them all run around like ants. I'm sure you feel a similar way."

"I need to protect people." Sheri declared. He smiled at her.

"Not all people though..." Sheri's lip quivered slightly. Visions of blood spilling crossed through her Frontal Lobe. "I've seen it before, that way you stare at blood, the way you glare at people, the way you fight. I have a friend who has the same face, you've seen his work actually. I asked him once if he ever felt bad about hurting people. He said..." No, there really is no difference between a dead body and a living one to me. Sheri thought in the back of her mind. It gives you power over life and death. It makes the world go round, people die. I really just like the blood. All those reasons she'd heard over the years, either from the people she'd encountered or from herself. "...I'm sure you've heard it all before though."

Sheri glared at him half-heartedly. Then she gazed over the water behind them. I am a Psychopath, but that doesn't mean I have to kill people. That doesn't mean that's all that I can desire in life.

"When was the last time your mind felt fulfilled. I'm only trying to keep you busy. That's what you've always needed, isn't it?" Sometimes life cam be so boring, she thought, and all you need is something hard to keep yourself sane.

Sheri sighed, "I accept, on the condition that I know that no one will be killing me in that hour." Moriarty chuckled in response to this.

"Oh, Sheri." he wiped away a fake tear of joy, "You crack me up, we won't need to kill you until, ohhhh...." he checked his watch, "12:00 PM. You get us to stop pointing a gun at you by then you live." Sheri looked just over his shoulder, off the front of the boat. All of my life and now I can finally accept who I am. It's now or never.

"Seems fair." Sheri held her hand out for him to shake. He observed her for a second, considering what she might try. Come on, take it, you idiot. He snapped his fingers, and held out his hand. About five red dots appeared on her. He was trying to intimidate her, that much she could tell. Insuring his own safety, clever, but not enough. She shook his hand. Then with one smile, the boat hit a block of ice again, this time causing the boat to tilt slightly. They were all thrown off balance just for a second.

Moriarty struggled from her grip as he tried to reclaim balance, but before he was free, she yelled out "Seven!" then ran for the edge of the boat, pulling him along with her over the side of the boat.

The last thing Sheri saw was his nervously twitching face and the sound of guns going off just behind her. Then there was only cold.