I Can't Stand You, Sherlock

Chapter 8: Freeze For A Minute

"Rori, Rori Anderson, get up." Someone yelled out my door.

"Go away." I shouted back at them as I rolled over in my bed. I pulled the sheets over my head and I hoped that if I didn't open the door they would just go away. It had to be only 7, the sun hadn't even come over the horizon yet, so thus I was not going to get out of bed before 8 and no one was going to make me.

"Rori, its Donovan." She said, her tone threatening.

Without waiting another second I jumped out of bed and opened the door. "I'm here. what?" I snapped at her. As much as I hated getting up without a warning I had to because I was under parole of Scotland yard. Plus Donovan was tougher than Lestrude was and would send me back without even thinking twice about it. She hated me, more than I hated Sherlock.

"Didn't you get Sherlock's text about today?"

"Oh, yeah, about that." I said as I scratched the back of my head trying to come up with a good excuse. For the past week I had been using my phone as a fancy paper weight on my desk. It had to be dead by now. I just got so fed up with all the texts Sherlock was sending me, so I left it on the desk to die and never to be heard from again. I just didn't like phones, they were like a convenient GPS for the cops and any one with a half of brain could know where I was at all times.

She made a face of disgusted then snapped, "You know the deal Rori, if you don't follow it you get sent back to where you belong."

"I don't belong there!" I shouted at her.

"Then where do you belong?" Donavan said flatly.

I dropped my head to look at the ground to hide my face. What she said stung like a slap to the face. It was uncalled for and in that moment I wanted to hurt her as much as that hurt me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. 'Don't hit her, don't hit her.' I yelled in my head.

"The charger, I didn't give it to her. The phone has probably been long dead by now." Sherlock said coolly. I looked up to see that he was right beside Donovan.

"Oh, whatever, just get it fixed and you, get ready. We leave in 10." Donovan said and turned her back to me.

I just looked at Sherlock in shock. He looked back at me with a straight face as if he didn't do anything important. He did give me the charger and he knew it. Why was he defending me? What did I do to deserve his sympathy?

I got ready as fast as I could and before long I was walking down the cold street behind Sherlock and Sergeant Donovan. I could feel the hatred radiating off of Donovan towards me, for a reason I didn't know. I didn't care either, if she didn't like me that was her problem. It wasn't my job to make every one like me.

We stopped in front of a fancy restaurant that was covered with loads of yellow tape and Donovan turned to me and spoke for the first time since we left the flat. "Here you are."

"Aren't you coming with us?" I asked her politely just to get on her nerves.

"I've been reposted, Lestrade wants you and Sherlock to work this case." She said flatly and walked off.

I looked at Sherlock and then followed him under the tape through the front door to get into the building to Lestrade.

"Why do you like provoking people?" Sherlock asked me as we walked in. He question was just as unplanned as my wake up call had been. This was one of the first questions he ever asked me about my personality, it was like he was trying to get to know me or something.

I sighed and looked at Lestrade from across the room. He was so far away, no one could get me out of this one. I didn't know what to say. Yes I did, but, I don't know why. It was just my personality. I couldn't describe it better than that. "If you are so good a reading people why don't you read it off me?" I snapped as I quickened up my pace to move ahead of him.

"Ello, Anderson, Holmes." The Inspector greeted us as we walked up to him in the kitchen.

"Hiya." I said to him and looked over his shoulder to see the giant walk in freezer open. Typical, someone died in the freezer, perfect crime. It is a smart one, just coax the person into the freezer and shut the door, you didn't even have to touch him. "Who died in the freezer?" I stated to him.

Lestrade had a look of puzzlement on his face then quickly changed back to normal. "This is Ian Strasser." He said as he took us in the freezer to see a poor man, white and stiff on the ground.

There was silence for a minute until I sighed. "What did you do Ian?" I said emptily as I swatted down to get a better look at him. he was a ginger like me and he looked middle aged. He was wearing a white button down shirt with dress pants. If he worked here he was either a waiter or a some high up position in the restaurant kitchen. He looked too fancy to be a cook that was for sure.

"He died from the cold. We are guessing he's been dead for about five hours."

"He didn't die from the cold." Sherlock stated as he looked around at the room. He chuckled at Lestrade who wasn't following this conversation. "Isn't it obvious? Tell me you see it." Sherlock said as he looked at the Inspector like he was stupid. When he didn't respond he continued saying, "he should be bluer if he died here from the cold but instead he's white from blood loss. And did you not see how his wrists have a reddish tint to them? He was tied up, killed, and then dragged here." he said like it was a fact as he pointed to the scuff marks on the floor starting at the opening to the freezer.

Lestrade didn't say anything back, instead he stood there with a dumb look of awe. It took all I had not to smirk as I was entertained by his expressions. Why didn't he hide his amazement, didn't he know that Sherlock fed on this kind of stuff?

When Lestrude didn't say anything back after a couple minutes Sherlock walked closer to the body and sniffed Ian's shirt and said,"do you smell that?"

"Smell what? It's a restaurant." Lestrade said flatly.

"It smells almost sweet and since this restaurant isn't known for their desserts Ian must had been somewhere else. Well, I'm done here, come on Rori." Sherlock said and walked out of the freezer.

I followed him out of the restaurant and said, "Garden Row. Isn't that restaurant in some type of competition with this one? Shouldn't we talk to some of the workers in there?"I asked, getting frustrated with him. I was trying to imply that since it was in a competition , it might have got a little too competitive and someone died from it. I think the workers were the best lead we could get at the moment.

"That is why we don't need to talk to them."

I felt like hitting myself. We needed to talk to everyone, no stone left unturned type of thing. Why did he believe that we didn't need to talk to them? "Well you do it your way, I'll do it my way." I fired off at him and walked back into the restaurant alone, not checking to see if Sherlock followed behind me. Although I knew he wouldn't.

"He was married, happy, a good worker, liked by everyone." One of the chief's said to me as I took notes on a post-it pad.

This was the fifth person I've interview about Ian and every one had said almost the same thing, he was a good guy. I have heard the same thing so many times already it was making my tired. At this moment I felt so bored I could just lay my head down on a desk and fall asleep. I was getting nowhere and it was killing me and my time. "You may leave." I said and I fiddled with my fingers not even pretending that I cared anymore.

"Would you want me to send in the next co worker?" the woman said to me as she got up from her seat.

"Um, sure." I said with boredom thick in my voice.

I watched her walk out of the room and within about 5 minutes an older man with a bald head came in. he had a presence about him and I knew he was someone important. He shoulders were pushed back and he walked with confidence like he owned the place.

"Let me guess, top chief?" I asked he sat down.

"Yes. Jamarcus Hershberger." He answered, with annoyance in his voice, not even holding out his hand for me to shake it. He was clearly as irritated as I was that we both had to be here. He was a busy man, he had things to do people to see. He didn't have time for this and I understood that. But I didn't need him to be rude about it.

"Look, I know you don't want to be here, I don't want to be here either so let's get this over with. How do you know Ian Strasser?" I said bluntly to him.

"He was the sous chief, my protégé if you must." He said and sighed. He looked so bored for only being here for an hour or two. If his protégé just died shouldn't he be more supportive of trying to find the killer? Shouldn't he be more emotional? Some people tried to hide it so good that it just looked fake. He was one of those guys that I knew he had to be hiding something. But what was he hiding?

"Where you close?"

"No, he had his life, I had mine. we saw each other at work and that was it." He leaned forward and put his arms on the desk. I looked at his rolex watch, I didn't think chefs made that much money. My eyes trailed down his wrist and saw a nice bruise on the side of his arm that looked new, like someone just punched him. He saw me staring at it and pulled his sleeve down to cover it.

"But if he was your sous. Shouldn't you have been closer to him?" I asked as I tried to pry into his mind.

"Look, if your done then I must be going." He said and stood up from his chair.

"Is this where I can find you?"

"Yes."

"Ok, that is all." I said and watched him walk out the door. For whatever reason I felt compelled to believe that he was the one that Killed Strasser. But why would he kill him? What would he gain? I knew nothing about him but my mind was screaming at me for letting him walk away so easily.

"Miss..." a timid man said as he popped hi head through the door.

"Anderson. And yes?"

"Did you want to talk to me too?"

I sighed, I thought I was done. "Sure." I said and sat back down at the desk.

He walked over to me and sat down at the other chair. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a frown. He was unsure of himself. By the way he took small steps on his toes I could tell he had zero self esteem. He couldn't have been a cook.

"Are you a chief too?" I said politely pushing my boredom to the back of my mind.

"Ha, no I wish. I'm the janitor of this restaurant. But because of that I know what everyone does. I get around."

"Oh ok." Suddenly interested in what he could offer me. "Can you tell me anything about Jamarcus Hershberger?"

"He's a jerk. Really, no one likes him, everyone liked Ian much more. In fact Ian was going to talk to the owner of this place about Jamarcus. With the competition going on we all need to be on our toes, something that Hershberger isn't good at doing."

"Can you remind me about this competition?" I asked, not knowing how important this competition was to the cooking world.

"It's a chief race against 5 restaurants. It starts tomorrow. We were looking like we could win but after this? I'm not sure." He said and shook his head.

"Well, thanks for that information." I said and smiled at him, happy that I got something out of this past hour.

Saying my goodbyes to the restaurant, I started on my way back. The sun was now shining strong even though it was so cold and knew that we only lived a kilometer from here so decided to walk home. In a matter of 30 minutes I walked into the flat after a long day to see Miss Hudson decorating for Christmas. I liked that she was so festive and I loved Christmas.

As I walked in she stopped and smiled at me. "Hello dear." She said.

"Hi Miss Hudson."

"I just love the Christmas season, don't you? I loved getting ready for it all."

"Yeah, it's nice." I said plainly holding back what I really wanted to say.

"Would you like to help me? Sherlock never does."

"Well, it's been a really long day. I'm just too tired." I lied with a half truth mixed in. I loved everything about Christmas, the snow, the way people acted, walking around with a smile on their faces and the lights, I loved the lights. Everything seemed so positive around this time, I almost forgot about it. I forgot that this was a special time that I remembered all the good memories about my mum. A part of if I wanted to get rid of every memory I had about her. But the thing was I couldn't. After everything she did to me, I couldn't just forget about her completely.

"Oh, how about another time then."

"Yes, let's do that." I said as I walked up the stairs knowing that she would probably finish the decorating by tonight. I wasn't use to being around others that cared for me. For the longest time I was by myself or around people that just used me.

I walked into Sherlock's flat tired and frustrate to see Sherlock staring out the window with a newspaper in his hands, not even reading it.

"That dog across the street, it won't stop barking. I've looked down the street and there is nothing that I can see that it is barking at. It could be barking at nothing for all I know!" Sherlock shouted at the window.

"Why don't you go over there and talk to the owners?"

"No." was all he said to me.

"Um ok, well night." I said as I started to walk into my room.

"Rori, don't forget to charge your phone. "

"Oh, yeah." I said totally forgetting about that phone incident this morning.

"What did you find out?"

I assumed he was talking about the case so I said, "they were in a chief race and not only that but the top chief is a jerk."

"I could have told you that." He said back to me.

"What did you say?" I said and turned to face him. He was now standing up with something in his hands, which I really didn't want to know.

"Isn't that something you would say?" He asked me, with amusement in his eyes.

"Well then, what is so important that you found out here?" I snapped at him and crossed my arms over my chest in frustration.

"Ian married has two kids. One of which is out of the house the other is your age. He was also having an affair."

"And you found that out by just sitting here staring outside?"

"Well, look at this." Sherlock said as he walked up to me and showed me a piece of paper in his hand. It was billing statements from Ian's 'privet' bank account. As my eyes scanned over this paper I remembered what the top chief said, 'he has his own life I have mine.'

He didn't want to know what Ian was doing all he wanted to do was to win the race. I bet he did have his guesses too but he didn't want to say. They were going to win, nothing could get in the way of that.

"This could ruin him or the race if someone found out." I breathed as I looked at the transactions that had taken place all the way back from a year ago. I didn't even care how he got this or figured it out but all I knew was that he was right.

"Hershberger couldn't have done it. He was a smart man, 10 years in the military and then straight to culinary school. He worked too hard for this to let it slip away from him. he may look like the bad guy in this but trust me, he is not."

"I need to look into this more." I said as I gave him back the paper and put my coat back on.

"Remember the tube closes at 11." Sherlock said as I walked out the door.

"I'm not that stupid, I know when it closes." I shouted at him and closed the door behind me. I walked down the stairs and as I opened that door I ran into Watson.

"Oh, hiya Rori." John said politely to me and smiled.

"Hi." Was all I said to him as I tried walk around him. I didn't want to talk to him right now, I was on a mission.

"So Sherlock and I were going to go out to eat, would you like to join us?"

"No, john I would not like to join you." I sighed as I walked down the front steps.

"Oh, then maybe another time then?"

"Yeah, sure." I said as I started walking down the road at a brisk pace.

"Rori!" Sherlock shouted at me from the door way.

"What?" I said as I turned to face him.

"I got a text, we're leaving for the hospital."

"Oh don't mind me, just standing here, you know what? I'll just leave, yeah, see ya Holmes." John said as he started to walk away.

"No, Watson, come. I would like a second input." Sherlock said to him.