The Lonely Dying

"Rough day?"

"You have no idea, Lestrade."

Sarah Winchester thunked her bag down on the top of the bar. "Just a beer today," She told Marty. The middle-aged bartender nodded and reached for her favorite brew.

"Wasn't today that-"

"The family thing? Yeah. My grandpa died and I had to go to his funeral." Sarah cut Avery off and took a swig of her drink. "Of course dad didn't show. And mum wasn't invited." She told him. She put her chin in her hand as she settled herself and looked around the pub. She hadn't known if Gemma would be there already, but by the looks of things her best friend wasn't present.

Avery smiled sympathetically. "Sorry, Sar. How'd it go?" That was one thing Sarah liked about Avery Lestrade. He either genuinely cared or at least pretended like he did.

She frowned. "Shitty. Got the looks from everyone there. Aunt Elizabeth asked how dad was. Like I know?" She pressed the bottle against her lips and then lowered it again. "Emma and Janine pretended I wasn't there."

Sarah took a sip and then sighed, remembering the fun times she and her cousins used to have. They had been her best friends even before Avery and Gem. Janine had always been the more ballsy of the two, always suggesting hilarious and somewhat dangerous tasks for them to try. She remembered one time they had tried to fly from the climbing tree in their grandmother's back yard.

Emma was the more girly part of the trio, so she had been the one to teach Sarah the valuable lessons about boys, make-up, sex, dating, and clothes. Despite their differences, the three of them had been inseparable since their first meeting, and until her mum and dad had separated.

That happened when Sarah turned fifteen. It was funny- whenever her mum and dad started fighting she had sent the night with Emma and Janine. Then the divorce hit and once dad had officially divorced her mum, his whole side of the family turned against her.

She remembered the utter hurt and confusion she had felt for the first year and a half, when her mum moved them away from their old flat and closer to Oxford. Helena had refused to talk about her ex-husband's family and ignored her daughter whenever the subject was brought up. She even switched Sarah to a different school, away from the familiar Catholic school where she was stared at every day by her now hostile cousins, and to a prep academy, where she met Avery.

Gem was a bit different; the two girls had known each other since nursery, so Gem had seen her through the whole fiasco. They hadn't become terrific friends until the whole ordeal with her family. She was cut off from her cousins, who had been her ultimate confidants, so she turned to Gem.

"Sarah? Earth to Sarah," She heard Avery say, so she looked up from her drink.

"Sorry. Just thinking." She ran a hand through her dark blonde hair. When she was a child it was a nice shade of blonde, but as she aged it had grown darker so that the difference between blonde and brunette was almost unclear.

Avery smiled at her, quirking up the side of his mouth. He mimicked her gesture, exaggeratedly brushing his black locks. She glared at him. She had always been envious of his beautiful hair, but not of his penchant for teasing her.

"Shove it, you," She told him, turning back to her bottle, tracing a circle on the bar top. Her brow furrowed as she tried to wipe away a smudge of dirt someone had left there. Marty usually kept his counters clean as a whistle.

"So," Avery started, draining his own drink. "Depressing family dilemmas aside, how's school going?" He asked.

Sarah eyed him. There was a spark of mischievousness in his hazel eyes. "Going well. Oxford isn't easy, but I already know a shit ton about law anyway." She said with a shrug. She took another drink. "Anything you need to tell me?"

Avery Lestrade grinned as she'd seen him grin a million times before. "Well, the newest from Scotland Yard . . ."

Sarah held up a hand, her other one already digging in her bag for her iPhone. "Don't. I'm sensing that Gem needs to be here for this," She said, fingers flying over the keyboard to send her best friend a text. "She'll be here in fifteen," Sarah told Avery when she got a response back.

She set her phone on the counter and stared at it out of the corner of her eye. She kept her gaze on the doors, waiting.

Sarah called Gemma to ask where she was moments before she walked inside the pub. “Good morning!” The last of the trio said brightly as she walked over to the usual table in the corner, where Sarah and Avery were waiting.

Avery turned his charming half smile to Gemma's entrance. "Hello, love. You didn't miss much. Sarah was positively depressed from her family funeral and I have news from the Yard." He twirled his drink glass around on the table. "Which would you like to hear about first?"

“Oh, my,” Gemma frowned. “That was today, Sar? Why didn’t you call me?”

Sarah shrugged. "It was early. I assumed you'd still be asleep when I left." She could only offer her friend a small smile.

“Still, my condolences,” Gemma said as she removed her coat and sat near Avery, whom was still twirling his drink with odd grace and a silly smile. “Onto the Yard, yes?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Avery said, leaning forward in a secretive manner. “It’s another Moor thing. Kiefer Cordell Adam this—“

“Oh, Lord! Mr. Adam?” Gemma cried suddenly, clapping a hand over her mouth.

Sarah frowned and rubbed her temple. "Who's this Adam fellow again? Sorry, I can't remember everyone I hear about," She asked, directing the last comment toward Avery.

“M-Mr. Adams is a family friend of my father’s,” Gemma explained, her hands suddenly shaking.

Sarah, seeing that Gem was obviously upset about this news, put a hand on her friend's shoulder for reassurance. "Okay, Avery, what happened to Mr. Adam?"

Avery shot an apologetic glance at Gemma before saying, “He was stabbed on the Moor. Evidence shows that he was just…stabbed. Left for dead and obviously bled to death.”

Sarah made a face at Avery. "What've the detectives found?" She questioned. 

“Nothing of importance, of course,” Avery shrugged, taking a long swig of his drink. “Just a dead man and a bloody knife.”

Sarah furrowed her brow. Scotland Yard, those idiots. "No fingerprints or anything? No leads whatsoever?" She pushed. Sarah was beginning to get impatient with the Yard – much like her great-great-great-grandfather would. Next step in the process was to take matters into her own hands and drag everyone with her.

“None,” Avery said absently, taking another swig and finally downing his drink. He gazed at Sarah. “Oh, stop giving me that look, Miss Holmes. It’s not going to help Mr. Adam now and blaming the Yard for their hard work will not help either.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Don't call me Miss Holmes, Mister Lestrade," She responded. "Elementary, my dear Gemma?" She looked toward her best friend, trying to get the shaken look out of her eyes.

Gemma was obviously anxious, as evidence of the fact that she was chewing on her lip, making it bleed. "Oh, Gem, love," Sarah murmured, handing her friend a napkin.

“What if my dad’s next?” The brunette managed to ask.

Sarah sighed, giving Avery a 'this-is-all-your-fault' look, even though it wasn't. Avery sent her a frown. "Gem, the Yard's on the case. I'm sure they're already thinking ahead, if this is going to be a string of murders." He assured her. 

Sarah shook her head. "Scotland Yard couldn't think ahead to their next budget meeting!" she said with a huff. 

“No!” Gemma kept her voice sharp. “We’ve seen it all before, the both of you! Don’t you understand? They get the one closest to the victim and--”

Avery rolled his eyes and signaled for another drink. "Gem, murders aren't all alike. You can't type a murderer. Maybe this one will purposefully try to go against the grain," He said. 

Sarah shook her head. "But you can't take chances. I'm with Gem." She ran her hand through her hair again, shaking off a blonde strand that came off. "When dealing with Scotland Yard, if you want something done, you got to do it yourself."

“Oh, don’t go about that bullshit with me, Holmes,” Avery sneered. “Like I said, they’re doing the best they can--”

“Who has money for a cabbie?” Gemma interrupted, shrugging into her coat and closing up her messenger bag as Marty brought over another round of drinks and her friends argued. Gemma, for the first time in her life, took the mug in her hand, downed it faster than both Sarah and Avery ever could, and said, “Lady and gentleman, we’re going on a little field trip to the Moors.”

Sarah glared at Avery. "Oh, you know it's true! Just because you've got family root in the business and I've got roots  against it-" She started, but was interrupted by Gemma telling them to get up and leave, just as Marty came over with their drinks. 

Sarah frowned, she didn't like having to drink her brew all in one sitting, but Avery followed Gem's lead, so Sarah had no choice. She picked up her bag, gulped down her brew, and handed Marty a few bills. "Thanks again," she told him, saluting their friend.