The message from February was the only one that I received from the unknown number. Every message I got now made me paranoid before I even glanced at them.

Bayley and I had told Dad and Sherlock, but they'd gotten no such messages. Still, they both told me to keep vigilant and tell them the second I got another like that ever again.

March, no messages. Wedding talk.

April, no messages. Wedding talk. I told my bridal party about the wedding being in London. They all, minus Amanda, seemed hyped about going. I'd only told Amanda about what happened with the message. She knew of my past with Moriarty. She was apprehensive about flying over.

May. No messages. I began to feel a little secure now. I tried to dismiss the message as just a prank, but the fact that they knew about the wedding being in London, and about Dad paying...I knew it wasn't. If it was, it sure as hell wasn't funny to anyone except the pranker.

June, we headed down to London. Amanda insisted on going with Bayley and I as it was part of her Maid of Honor duty and privilege. I didn't question her. She wanted to make sure everything ran without hitches, and she didn't want me to be alone.

Our living arrangement was definitely not what I expected. It seemed that no matter what I did, I always found myself back at Baker Street when in London. I didn't understand it. Something always brought me back to that apartment, to 221B.

Unfortunately, Amanda couldn't squeeze herself into the apartment, only Bayley and I could. She found a place close to 221B, though, so she could get there when she needed to. Dad offered up his place, but Mary said there wasn't enough room even after we insisted we could deal with the couches and floor.

"There's more space at their house," I insisted as I sat in Dad's chair in the apartment. There was a small group of us: Dad, myself, Sherlock, Mary, Amanda, Rosie, and Bayley. Amanda took well to Rosie, so any chance she could, she took my half-sister from Mary and held her. Meanwhile, the rest of us were talking about the wedding.

"Well, you and Bayley are both here," Sherlock insisted, who was going through his laptop. "No sense in you traveling."

"But everyone else had to?"

"So, everyone's coming in at the most a week prior to the wedding," Bayley told Dad.

"How big of a party?" asked Dad.

"Small one. Close friends and immediate families. Want to keep it small."

"That's an estimate of how many people?"

"Probably at the most thirty," I said. "We made sure to make a good list. I'm pretty sure we sent out thirty invites, maybe a little more."

"Your family's that big?" asked Dad.

"If you're talking about my mom's side...I've never met any of them." A sad fact. "My adoptive side is a good size. And I'm taking into account friends and family friends too. When can we look at the venue?"

"We've got a visit next week," said Bayley. Amanda was bouncing on her feet with Rosie in her arms.

"Did you decide on music yet?" asked Dad.

"Got any suggestions?"

"No, I won't play," said Sherlock.

"Nobody was going to ask you," I said calmly. "Solve a crime, you're there. But when it comes to a wedding, we have to practically pull teeth to get you to do anything."

"I also had to 'practically pull teeth' to get you to properly dance."

"Your point?"

Sherlock didn't answer me.

"Okay, so, we'll do the rehearsal dinner a few weeks before—"

"Do you need to teach her?" Bayley asked Sherlock.

"Excuse you, I've got decent footing!" I scolded my fiancé.

"Doesn't sound like it according to Sherlock."

"She's never had decent footing. You can always hear her when she's on her way into a room," Sherlock muttered.

I rolled my eyes. "Only to you, not to everyone else."

"You stepped on my feet, multiple times."

"You weren't a good teacher."

"I was. You were a bad student."

"So, food," Mary piped up. "What kind then?"

"Uh, Mary," Amanda said worriedly as Rosie began to cry in her arms.

"Mm, she probably needs to be changed." Mary went to Amanda. "Want to help?"

Surprisingly, Amanda followed Mary out of the room, leaving Dad, myself, Bayley, and Sherlock in the room now.

"Any interesting cases on that thing?" I asked Sherlock.

"I thought this was about your wedding? That's the whole point of you being here."

"I can't ask questions?" I raised a brow. "What's pulled your underwear into your ass?"

"You forget he's always like this," Dad murmured to me.

"Guess I've been away for too long."

"Let me see your phone, Rachel," said Sherlock.

I didn't question him, I went to him and handed it over. I made sure to unlock it so he didn't guess my password (though I doubted that would stop him from guessing in the future). I watched over his shoulder as he thumbed to find the one message. "I haven't had any since."

"He's planning something, waiting. He's making you uneasy."

"Because he knows that works." I crossed my arms. "Add security detail to the list of things for the wedding." I looked to Bayley. "I know, I'm a hypocrite, but if Moriarty is planning something, I'm not taking the risk of him ruining our special day."

"I'm just glad you see reason on it," said Bayley.

My phone buzzed in Sherlock's hand. He and I peered at the message. All the color left my body.

I am biding my time. Just you wait and see. If you think the last game was intense...

Kitten, you have no idea what you're in for, any of you.

Jim Moriarty x

"Another message," Sherlock murmured. "He's got ears nearby." He looked around the apartment.

"Could this place be bugged again?" I asked, feeling slightly faint.

"Only one way to find out."

The four of us began to search every nook and cranny for any small listening devices or cameras. We came back with nothing. By the time we searched the whole place, Mary and Amanda came back, Mary holding Rosie.

"What are you doing?" she gasped.

"I got another message," I said gravely, taking my phone from Sherlock to show her. "He's eavesdropping."

"He must have someone outside," said Bayley, who gravitated to peek out both windows of the place. "They must have some sort of device to allow them to listen."

"Or we just didn't look hard enough." I picked up the skull on the fireplace mantel.

"Put that back, Rachel," Sherlock scolded me. "You know there's nothing in there."

"He's taunting you," Amanda said quietly. "He's probably having too much fun with it."

"That's obvious," I said before Sherlock could get a word in.

"Well, I can further back you on security at the wedding," said Dad. "Since we don't know what is game is or how long he'll be playing, we can't take any chances."

"Oh, yay, we can enjoy food and music with police around the perimeter," Amanda said sarcastically. "Because that doesn't kill the mood."

"We don't have much of a choice," I told her firmly. "We can't run the risk of him hurting innocents." I walked to Mary, and she handed me Rosie. "It's not ideal or what we want, but at this point, it's a must. Even if nobody likes the idea."

"Let me see your phone again, Rachel," said Sherlock. He took the phone back from me, sitting back at his laptop.

"You gonna try and trace the number?" I shifted Rosie in my arms. "Sherlock, you're many things, but a hacker...I'm not sure about that."

"If it is Moriarty, he wouldn't allow the number to be traced," said Bayley. "We all know he's clever."

"Sometimes too clever." I felt Rosie pat on my collarbone with her chubby fist. I glanced down at my half-sister.

I couldn't imagine what Moriarty had planned. Perhaps it was better if I didn't think about it.