“We’ve both learned that any number of threats mightcome from the least dangerous-looking people in the world,” he reminded her.
“A member of the Sherlockians, or whatever!” Chloe murmured.
It seemed that Edward, who appeared to be the head of their strange new group, had held seats for them. He waved, indicating chairs at the table, as they stood in the buffet line.
“Well, at least getting close is easy!” Wes murmured.
“Too true!” Chloe whispered back. “And, wow, nice-looking veggie omelets with cheese! Eating on this mission is not a problem.”
“Waffles! Too much sugar, but I’m going for them anyway!” Wes told her. “Another day at sea. And, of course, I’ll need the energy to sit in a session or hang around on a lounge chair.” He hesitated, always talking close as if they were sharing intimate thoughts. “But, of course, you never know. Still, tomorrow, diving on a private island... that just seems a likelier possibility of something going wrong.”
“But you never know,” Chloe said.
“You never know,” he agreed.
In a few minutes, they had their food and joined the others at the table. They were the last to arrive that day; Sally was again seated at Edward’s side while George Garcia was to his left. Jeff and Celia were across the table flanked by Amelia Swenson on the one side and Daniel and Broderick on the other.
As they joined the table, Sally was busy telling the others about the group she belonged to, the “Sherlockians,” people who were in love with the work of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and eager to enjoy his work while studying the changes and advances in police science and investigation since the man had lived. Hers wasn’t the only group—many such groups across the country met using the same guidelinesand they even had huge Zoom meetings every now and then. “But, of course, there are many kinds of ‘Sherlockians!’” Sally said. “There are game-playing Sherlockians, reading Sherlockians, you name it! Sherlock Holmes is in the public domain, although I’m wondering if we should have been the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle-ians!”
“The man was a writer, a storyteller,” Edward reminded her. “To the best of my knowledge, the writer was never a detective himself.”
“Right. But what an incredible character he created! So, the name. Sherlockians. I mean, people make fun of us, of course!” Sally was saying. “But we’ve helped the police on occasion. We have a great social media site going—which is, of course, one of the reasons I’m so thrilled to learn more and more from these wonderful, giving people!”
“Doesn’t it ever make you nervous?” Daniel asked her.
“Pardon? What?” Sally asked.
“Well, you said that you and your friends investigate and help the police,” Daniel explained. “But if criminals knew what you were up to, you and friends could be in danger,” he added, shaking his head.
“Oh, no, because no one would ever know who sussed out the information!” Sally assured him. “Everything we provide goes through one detective—I guess we’re kind of considered confidential informants!” Sally said happily.
“Sally!” Celia said. “You’ve just told all of us that you investigate cases! So, what if one of us was a horrid criminal?” she asked.
“But you’re not! You’re lovely people who teach us great classes!” Sally said happily.
Edward groaned, patting her hand where it lay on the table. “Sally, yes, at this table, we’re all gainfully employedpeople who would never commit a crime or hurt anyone. But what if in conversation with someone else, one of these guys slipped and it just happened that they were in a group with a real criminal?”
“I’m okay on the ship! All you wonderful people and security around. And when I’m home, well. I live in a gated community with a guard on at all times and honestly, I don’t share with people usually. It’s just that this group is so giving!” Sally said.
Edward laughed. “Pay it forward, eh? Well, let’s be honest. We all get something out of this. In truth, it’s one big advertisement for our companies. And, of course, Milestones is incredibly lucky that we have such amazing teachers and givers who have signed on to help with this project!”
Chloe glanced over at Wes casually, hoped that neither of them visibly reacted to Sally’s words, and whatever responses might have been going on in the minds of those at the table.
She sipped her coffee, thinking that it was a very good thing Sally was so attached to Edward. That meant she was usually with George. But when she wasn’t...
Well, she was a new worry for her and Wes now, too!
“So!” Jeff Henderson whispered, leaning low and grinning conspiratorially, “Sally! What great puzzles have you and your Sir Arthur Conan Doyle–reading friends solved?”
“Well, most of the time, we look into cold cases and come up with answers that we have no way of proving. Last year, a man was killed in the city and it was through our sleuthing into video files and the like that we were able to prove the wife was a liar, that she had killed her husband because she was planning to escape with her lover to a country without an extradition treaty with us. Oh, and guess what? She didescape, but she made the mistake of thinking that she was perfectly safe coming back—and the police were able to arrest her!”
“Wow. That is impressive!” Celia said.
“Wow is right!” Amelia said. “So, you guys have your own detective on call, too—a real life one!”
“And you didn’t catch a petty thief, you caught a murderer!” Broderick pointed out.
That was enough for Chloe, enough to instill fear in her for Sally. She was blithely talking to people who might already have killed several times over.
