"Oh, hi," Molly said and smiled widely to Sherlock as he walked into the lab with John and I on his heals.

"Molly," he replied with a nod of his head.

"Hiya Molly," John said politely, whereas I just nodded. She was a nice, but that's what bothered me, she was just too nice, it was like she never had a bad day. No one could be that happy. Or could they?

"You guys are here about Ian Strasser," Molly said and took us to the back of the room where Ian Strasser lay on a cold metal table. He looked the same as he did when I saw him: the last, white, cold and dead.

"You were right, Sherlock, he didn't die in that freezer. He had a couple broken rips, look at this bruise." Molly then pulled down the sheet a little lower so we could see his lower chest, reveiling a huge bruise that wasn't fully colored. He died not long after that blow was given. Maybe this was what killed him.

"He died from this, I think. Somehow punctured both of his lungs."

I looked at Ian with a frown. I couldn't imagine dying like this. Trying to take a breath and not being able to. What a terrible way to die.

"He fought back before the clasped, he has some light bruising on his knuckles," Molly continued, and held up Ian's hand to show us. I thought about the bruise that Hershberger had on his arm. I was sure that Ian did that to him, but I needed more proof.

"Isn't this man on TV? Like a cooking show or something?" John asked.

Can Sherlock please remind me why we took John? If he was just going to ask stupid questions, he was a waste of space.

"Shhh, John... stop it, stop everyone, " Sherlock said as he closed his eyes.

I frowned as I looked at John for an answer, but he just rolled his eyes like he knew what Sherlock was doing.

"Stop thinking," Sherlock mused.

"I can't...." I started, but John cut me off.

"Humor him," John whispered to me.

There was a minute of silence. All eyes were on Sherlock's, except mine. I didn't care to know what he was doing. I needed to write everything I knew before I forgot. My eyes stopped at a blank paper on a desk and a group of pens in a cup next to the paper, which I walked over to.

· Ian Strasser was a good worker and married but was hiring hookers under a different account.

· The restaurant was in a chief race.

· Jamarcus Hershberger was his boss, didn't care what Ian did, as long as they won the race. (Don't think he did it.)

· Died in a freezer (but wasn't killed there) of the restaurant at around 3 in the morning. (Why was he there so early?)

· Had a fight with someone beforehand. (Jamarcus Hershberger?)

"Got what you need?" Sherlock said from over my shoulder.

Good, he was done with his drama moment. I looked up at him quickly as I folded the paper and stuck it in my coat pocket. "Yup. You?" We needed to see Hershberger and I was sure Sherlock was on the same page.

"Yes," he said and turned to John who had a look of confusion.

"We need to talk to Hershberger."

"Correction, we just need to talk to one of the other restaurants. Water Flower is a sweet restaurant, is it not John?" Sherlock asked him.

"What?" he replied, shocked.

"You have that same sweet sent on your clothes like Strasser did in the freezer and that same smell was combined with a floral smell on your clothes. Doesn't Water Flower have fresh roses on every table? You have a speck of brown on your white shirt. I'm guessing from the chocolate that the Water Flower leaves out on the tables. I've heard it's not a cheap restaurant, you must have gotten a promotion. You normally don't do that unless you also have the Misses happy and a paycheck would do that. I didn't think that Water Flower was in the chief race, but your smell has brought to my attention that we should go there."

We all stood there in shock, even me for a second, until I regained my ability to hide what was on my mind. I was amazed that he deducted that just smelling the scent on John's clothes.

"What are you standing there for, we're on a clock. Come on then," Sherlock said to John and I. With that he got his coat and walked out the room without even saying thanks to Molly.

"Thank you for your help Molly," John said and smiled kindly at her before we walked out.

"Any time."

"Amazing isn't it?" John whispered as we walked to catch up with Sherlock.

I knew what he was talking about, but it took me a second to say something. I didn't want to say anything that could get back to him. "The way he thinks? No. I can't stand it."

"I know how it is, he drives you insane. Always feeling judged? But I have to admit, he catches everything."

That is what I had a problem with. "If he catches everything, why didn't he let me go? Couldn't he see I didn't do it," I said, referring to the death I was framed for.

"I already called a cab," Sherlock said as he looked at nothing unparticular across the road.

I followed his gaze to see a young-looking woman staring at us. I knew who she was, she was the closest person I called to a friend, next to Kale of course. But just like all partnerships, they end.

As soon as she caught my eyes, she looked at Sherlock then down the road. I knew she wanted to talk since we had some unfinished business we hadn't fixed before I got locked up. However, I didn't want to talk to her. The nerve she had shown herself in front of Sherlock infuriated me.

"Your friend wants to talk," Sherlock said to me as he watched her go down the road.

"She's not my friend," I stated as I watched her, standing firm.

"I don't see why you don't just go. I won't do anything about it. Shouldn't you see your friends from time to time?"

"I told you, I don't have friends. I have people that are convenient to me." The cab pulled up to the curb and I hopped in the front seat, ending the conversation.

We drove in silence to get to the Water Flower restaurant. Quickly, we found ourselves in front of a large restaurant as the cab drove away. We walked in to the building and, sitting at one of her tables; we found the main chief. She was quick to talk and willing to share her ideas.

"Where were you last night?" Sherlock asked the head Chief at the Water Flower.

"I was here, perfecting new recipes," she replied calmly. She was a short and plump woman.

"Do you have someone to use for your alibi?" I asked as I looked around the restaurant. "Why is no one here?"

"I gave them the day off because of recent events."

"You knew Ian Strasser?"

"Of course I did, he was a good man, hard worker better then that slum Hershberger. I used to babysit Ian when he was just a tot," she said and gave a small smile, as if she was thinking about the memories.

"So you knew him well?" John asked.

Please can you leave your stupid at the door, John?

"Yes, I did, since he was just a little thing. I like to think that he was a chief because of me."

"Do you have a sous chief?" She couldn't have done it. She had too much connection with him and besides, she wasn't strong enough to kill a man like Ian. The way she was moving, I knew she had arthritis.

"Yeah, I think he's still here, let me get him," she said and walked out of the kitchen.

"She didn't do it," Sherlock said as he walked around the kitchen.

"I know she didn't."

There was a minute of silence, then we heard shouts from the other room. I looked at Sherlock then John, to make sure they heard it too. Sherlock gave me a nod and all three of us ran to the next room to see someone running out a side door and the head chief laying on the floor.

"Why do they run?" Sherlock asked as he ran to the door the man came out of.

'Goodness, I don't know, maybe because they don't want to get caught?' I thought as I ran with him.

"Don't mind me, I'll stay here," John called out to us just before we ran out the door.

I saw the man running down to the left of me and I followed.

"He went to the right," Sherlock said and went the other way.

I was sure I caught sight of his white shirt turning the corner of the left alley, so I took that way. I sprinted down the road and turned the corner to see him running and before long, I had caught up to him.

I reached out my hand and got the collar of his shirt and pulled it hard enough for him to lose balance and fall to the ground. He looked up at me, but I knew her face too well and pulled off her wig. "What the hell?"

She laughed at me like it was one big joke. "You wouldn't give me the time."

"Maybe because I didn't have the time," I said, thinking about how I went the wrong way and Sherlock probably got our man. Once again, I got it wrong. If I kept on getting things wrong, he would send me back. I couldn't let that happen, I had to show that I was better than him.

"Oh yeah, because of your new job, right? Way to betray the art, Rori. Working with the Bobbies."

That hit a nerve. I couldn't control myself as I slapped her across the face. Working with Sherlock was not planned, I had no choice, but of course she didn't see that. "It's not like that!"

She cupped her now red cheek with her hand with a frown. "Think what you want Rori but it's still a betrayal any way," she said and got up from the ground and brushed herself off.

"I don't have time for this." Getting ready to walk away from her.

"Hey, I wanted you to know that he knows you're out. Watch your back Rori, I'm sure he'll get in touch soon," she said calmly, then walked down the road alone.

"Thanks," I mumbled, but I was not sure she heard it. I wasn't ever good at thanking people, another thing I could thank my mum for.

Even though I had been out for almost a month, I still felt out of the loop about what was going on in the white collar world. For a quick minute, I forgot about the people that I made enemies with. I was sure that they knew I was out by now. I needed to watch my back. But I didn't know how to do that with Sherlock always around. He would ask questions I was not willing to answer, but he would end up figuring out eventually, even if I said nothing.

One thing was for sure: I needed to protect myself. I stood there for a minute as I watched her walk away until I remembered I should find Sherlock and John. I swore lightly, then turned on my heels and ran back to the restaurant.

"Good, you found him," I breathed to Sherlock as I walked back into the restaurant. Sitting on a chair in front of him was the man that I should have been chasing. He had long black wavy hair pulled back into a ponytail and he was tan and thin.

"Did you have a good chat with your friend," Sherlock asked me.

Instead of showing that I was shocked that he knew, I just shrugged. As hard as I tried, I could never keep all of my secrets from him.

"Well, the cops are on their way and Mabel is just fine, a bit shaken up, but that's all," John said as he walked up to us.

I looked at the tanned man again and I noticed he was fidgeting in his seat. He wanted to run again. But why again? We had already caught him and we would do it again. Did he kill Ian because I was thinking he didn't. If he killed him though, he would have a better chance of winning the chief race. But the head chief was so close to Ian, if she found out that her Sous killed him, he would be ruined.

"Name?" Sherlock asked the man in the chair.

"Francisco Castillo," he said with a thick accent.

"Why did you run?"

"Because he said so."

"Who?"

He frowned. "Jamarcus Hershberger."

"Why are you listening to his commands?" He was the owner of another restaurant, why would he be following him?

He shook his head at me. He would not talk anymore.

Why he would listen to Hershberger, he's the same competition as him? But what if they made a deal that he would be the next chief for the restaurant after Ian died. Hershberger is fairly old and he would be retiring. That would mean that after he retired, Francisco would take the job. "We need to go to see Jamarcus Hershberger now."

"I can't leave him here," Sherlock said with a frown.

"Then, I'll take, John," I said and looked at John.

"What?" John asked with a confused look.

"Come on John." I pulled at his coat sleeve as we walked out onto the street to hail a cab.

Before long, we were in a cab driving away. I pulled out my phone as we drove and texted Sherlock to call the police to meet me at the restaurant. John asked questions the whole drive, but I did not respond to any of them. I was too busy thinking about my next step.

"Stay here and wait, John," I said to him as we got out of the cab in front of the restaurant. By now, he had a clue of what was going on and he nodded silently at me.

I walked into the restaurant that jarmarcus worked in. "Jamarcus! I know you're here!"

There was a minute of silence, then he came out with a knife in his hands from the back room. "I knew Sherlock would figure it out. No matter how flawless the crime seemed to be. I had no chance once Mr. Holmes was on the case."

I was a bit frustrated and hurt that he didn't give me credit. I solved this case too but no one would seem to know, but then again, that wasn't that bad. I could keep my name clean from the cops that way. "Just put down the knife, please," I said coolly knowing that he would try to either kill me or him or both.

"It's all over now." His hands shook.

I knew what he was going to do next and I had to stop that. "Wait!" I yelled at him to get him to stop. "Why did you do it?" I asked, stalling him. I just need to stall for a few more minutes until the police came.

"You don't know?" he asked as he put the knife on the table closest to him.

"I have my guesses, but I want to hear it from you."

"Ian was getting nowhere and was falling into bad habits. He lost his fire and his desire. He was just going to bring down this restaurant. I couldn't let all my hard work go down the drain."

"So you killed him?" I had a hard time believing that he killed him because of that. He could have just fired him. That would have been easier.

"No not like that. I confronted him about it. He was high at the time and took it the wrong way. He threw the first punch and from there, I punched him back. I lost control and before I knew it, he was there, dead," he said with tears in his eyes.

"How did Francisco Castillo get involved?"

"Francisco didn't think Mabel was giving him the credit he deserved and he wanted to work with me so I gave him a deal. If he followed what I said, in a month I would retire and he could have my job. Ian wasn't around and I needed a new Sous."

"He didn't help kill Ian."

"No," he said as a tear fell down his face. I watched him pick up the knife again.

"Stop! It doesn't have to be like that! We can work this out!" I shouted at him, trying to talk him down. I frowned, he was torn up about how this unfolded. He was going to get punished for something that he didn't mean to do. Maybe it was better for him if I just let him kill himself, that way he would be free.

"It's too late for that," he said as he lifted the knife into the air, ready to stab himself.

At that moment, John came running into the restaurant. He saw what was happening and instantly he ran up to Jamarcus and grabbed both of his wrists, then put them behind his back, causing him to drop the knife to the ground.

<>

"Nice one." I said to him, knowing that he came at just the right time. I was suddenly glad I brought John along.

John nodded with a small smiled as he put Jamarcus's hands in cuffs.

I heard a commotion behind me and saw police come into the room. Lestrade looked at me and smiled slightly, he was proud and I did my job and that meant I could stay for another day.

"He did it?"

I yawned, feeling exhausted from his stupidity. I looked out the window and saw the sun start to shine on the horizon, I had been up all night. "No, the Easter bunny did it," I said sarcastically. "There is proof all over the place."

"Ok, I'm going to talk to him."

"Fine." I watched him walk over to Hershberger who was now being put on a gurney.

"Looks like you had fun," Sherlock said as he walked up to me.

"Loads, just ask John. Look, I'm sorry you didn't get to go out for drinks."

John shrugged with a smile. "Oh it's no problem, really. This is a lot better in my books. I didn't really want to go out for drinks to tell you the truth, but Sherlock asked me to come over and..."

Oh my, John never shut up. I shouldn't have got him going. I was too tired so instead of listening; I walked out of the room in mid-sentence.

I sat down on a bench outside as I watched the sun rise. It kissed the streets and buildings, turning everything golden. I could feel the sun on my skin and it warmed me even though it was cold outside. I yawned again, wanting to go to bed.

"Can I have a word?" Lestrade asked as he walked up to me.

I looked up at him and nodded.

"We always have a Christmas party for all the members of Scotland yard and their families and in the past I never could get Sherlock to go."

I knew where this was going. He wanted me to convince Sherlock to go but he didn't want me to come without Sherlock by my side. I have been in this predicament before with other people. "So you're saying I can go if I get Sherlock to come."

He frowned, but I knew I got it right. "It's not like that."

"But that's what you meant, isn't it Inspector?" It irritated me that after a month of slaving away for him, he still didn't trust me. He didn't really want me, but I was convenient, so he kept me around. Most people in his office still looked at me as a criminal. I would be nothing more than that the girl they didn't want to be seen in public with.

I got up from the bench and look around his shoulder to see Sherlock and John walking up to us. Thank goodness. "Did you find what you needed?" I knew he didn't want the others to know what he said to me and honestly, I didn't want the others to know either.

"Yeah." .

"Rori, ready to leave?" Sherlock asked me.

"Yes."