"So, we can read her emails - so what?" Anderson questioned.

Sherlock continued tapping away as he rolled his eyes. "Don't talk out loud, Anderson, you lower the IQ of the whole street. We can do more than read her emails - it's a smartphone, it's got GPS. And if you lose it, you can locate it online."

On the screen popped up a message that said, "Your phone will be located in under three minutes.". alongside a little clock-face, with the arms spinning

"She's leading us right to the man who killed her." Melody said, almost excitedly.

"Unless he got rid of it." Lestrade countered.

"We know he didn't." John informed him.

"Come on, quickly, quickly!" Sherlock demanded of the computer.

"Sherlock, dear this taxi driver!" Mrs. Hudson insisted from the doorway.

"Mum, this really isn't a good time." Melody said gently, only slightly turning her head to look at her mother.

Sherlock sprung up from the netbook and approached Lestrade. "Get some vehicles ready, get a helicopter, we need to move fast - that phone battery won't last forever."

John went to the netbook and began drumming his fingers, willing the search to go faster.

"We'll just have a map reference, not a name!" Lestrade exclaimed.

"It's a start!" Melody countered, facing Lestrade.

"Sherlock." John said, his eyes glued to the computer screen.

"It narrows it down from anyone in London, it's the first proper lead we've had." Sherlock noted, agreeing with Mel.

"Sherlock!" John said sharply, causing the man in question to turn.

"Where is it, where, quickly!" He said, joining John at the screen. He stared, frowning.

"It's here. It's in 221 Baker Street."

"But it can't be. How can it be here?" Melody asked, confused.

"Maybe it was in the case when you brought it back - fell out somewhere." Lestrade suggested, looking at Sherlock.

"And I didn't notice. Me?? I didn't notice." Sherlock questioned.

"Anyway, I texted it and he phoned back." John pointed out.

Greg sighed as he turned to address his team. "Guys, we're also looking for a mobile somewhere here - belonged to the victim."

As Lestrade spoke, Melody's eyes traveled to Sherlock's face. She could tell that his mind was racing. "Come on, Sherlock, think." She whispered.

As Sherlock spun to face the door, he stilled, seemingly rooted to the spot.

"Sherlock? Are you okay, love?" Melody asked, approaching him.

Sherlock's mobile beeped.

"What? Yes, yes." He said blankly. He looked at his mobile. The room was swirling round him as the police searched the flat, but he just stared at his phone.

"So how can the phone be here?" John asked.

Melody studied his face and frowned. Something was wrong...

"I don't know ..." Sherlock murmured.

"I'll phone it again." John said, dialing the number.

"Good idea." As he spoke, he headed to the door.

Mel scrunched her eyebrows as she watched him. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere. Fresh air, just popping out for a moment."

"You sure you're all right?" John asked as Sherlock hurried down the stairs.

"I'm fine!"

John looked at Melody, troubled. "What's going on?" He asked her, seeing the worried expression mirrored on her face.

She shook her head. "I wish I knew, John." She admitted. A million possibilities ran through her head, but none of them seemed right. John walked over to the window, watching to see when Sherlock was returning.

Melody nervously gnawed upon her thumb, pacing around the flat. What had she missed? Sherlock obviously knew something, but what???

John spun to face the rest of the room. "He just got in a cab."

Melody scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. "What?"

"Sherlock, he just drove off in a cab!" John exclaimed.

Mel hastened to the window, watching as a cab drove away from Baker Street. Why on earth would he just leave?

Sally glanced at them, pityingly. "I told you. He does that."

Melody took a deep breath and looked at John. She could see the discontent she felt mirrored in his eyes. Neither of them was satisfied – something was wrong...

Sally looked at Lestrade and sighed. "He bloody left. Again. We're wasting our time!"

John pulled out his mobile and brought it up to his ear, Watching Mel intently. "I'm phoning the phone, it's ringing out."

"If it's ringing, it's not here." Greg reasoned.

John hung up, a stony look on his face. "I'll try the search again." He said, clicking the 'Update Location' button on his tablet.

"Does it matter? Does any of it?" She stepped closer to Lestrade, speaking in hushed tones, as if what she had to say was confidential. "He's just a lunatic, and he'll always let you down. And you're wasting your time. All our time."

Melody clenched her jaw and whipped her head around to look at the woman. "Donovan, I swear to all that is good and holy, if you don't shut up, I will not hesitate to chuck everything within reach at your head. Including John." She threatened.

It took everything Lestrade had in him not to burst into laughter. This girl was a spitfire to be sure, and she appeared to be fiercely protective of her friends. John simply looked at her, slightly affronted, but shook his head as he thought better than to say anything. Sally, however, looked as though she had been physically slapped. She appeared to be slightly frightened of the woman in front of her, and rightly so.

Melody looked at John and frowned. "This isn't right. Something is WRONG." She said, knowing that he would understand her discomfort with the situation at hand.

"Okay, everyone - we're done here ..." Lestrade announced to his team.

Mel pulled out her phone, typing out texts to Sherlock. "Are you okay?" "Where did you go?" "I'm worried, please let me know you're alright."

As the last of the police were leaving, only Lestrade loitered. His face revealed his emotions- frustrated, disappointed. "Why did he do that? Why did he have to leave?"

John shrugged as he watched Melody walk over to the window, her phone pressed to her ear. "You know him better than I do." He admitted.

"I've known him five years, and no I don't."

"Why do you put up with him?"

"Because I'm bloody desperate, that's why!" He said, striding for the door. He hesitated, looking back at the pair. "Because Sherlock Holmes is a great man. And I think, one day, if we're very, very lucky he might even be a good one." His gaze shifted to melody, who was looking out the window with her phone pressed to her ear, and her free hand over her heart. "And if she sticks around, I think that day will come sooner than any of us expect." He admitted, making his exit.

After a few minutes of silence, Mel turned to John. "He won't answer my calls or my texts. John, I'm worried."

He looked at her with a frown, wishing that he could do something to quell her fear. "Me too." He admitted. He went to put on a jacket, so he could go out and get a bit of air, when he heard a ping. Both of their heads snapped towards the source of the sound. They hurried to look at the screen, which showed a map to a local college.

How did he get... that's when it all clicked for Melody Hudson. The cabbie. A cabbie was just the back of a head. The perfect disguise for a murderer. No one would ever suspect a simple cabbie. And now, that cabbie had Sherlock Holmes. "We need to get to that college before Sherlock becomes the next victim on the list." She said, turning and grabbing her jacket.

John looked at her, his eyes wide in confusion.

"Sherlock is with the murderer. Come on John, we'll discuss more in the cab. But, first, I need to make a call." She said, dialing a number on her mobile. She flew down the stairs and out the door.

A voice greeted her on the second ring as she hailed a cab. "Miss Hudson. To what do I owe the pleasure at this time of evening?"

"Mycroft, your brother is in trouble. Again. Do me a favour and meet us at Roland-Kerr further education college. John and I are on our way now." She assured him as John appeared in the doorway. She opened the door and slid into the cab, John close behind.

"Right then. I'll be meeting you there in a short while. Miss Hudson, I do trust you'll try to keep yourself out of harm's way."

"You know I can't promise that."

"Yes, I know. Unfortunately, you and my brother share the trait of being reckless to the point of self-harm."

"It's what we're good at. But, I can assure you that we will both be alright. After all, He's Sherlock Holmes. And heaven help me, but I'd be lost without him." She admitted.

"And he without you, I assure you. Now go get my little brother out of whatever conundrum he's gotten himself into now. I'll see you shortly." He said.

"Until then." She replied, hanging up. She looked out the window and sighed, listening as John gave the cabbie directions. The Holmes boys were going to be the death of her.