The Invisible Amateur by Amelia Price Page B

similarities between the royal family members, most of
which are suggesting some form of incest, but this guy posts this
one comment and that's it. No posts before or since.”
    She then moved the
cursor and clicked on his username. A profile that had a cat as the
picture and only an email in the information came up. It wasn't a
perfect lead, but the post was suggestive and it was better than no
lead at all.
    “I think it might
be worth emailing him and seeing what he knows, don't you?” She
gave him a smug grin as he nodded and passed the device back to
her. When she didn't move, he coughed. Sherlock glanced their way
and laughed.
    “I don't think
brother of mine knows what to do when he's forced to share a
chair.”
    Amelia let a wry
smile flicker across her face before she moved back to the desk.
While she responded to the message, her fingers flew over the
keyboard, typing almost as fast as his own assistant could.
    “Done. I've told
him I'm very interested in what he might know and want to meet as
soon as possible to discuss it. I said I was doing some research
for a fiction novel but wanted it to be as realistic as possible.
Mostly true, but not quite.”
    Mycroft nodded at
the information but inwardly he seethed. This wasn't how he'd
wanted the situation resolved. Amelia was far too involved, and now
she would have to be the one to meet this guy, assuming he agreed
to talk to her.
    “Now what?” Amelia
said and turned to him.
    “We wait.”
Sherlock came over from his case board and sat down again. “Are you
going to stay with us, Myron, or should we just report to you when
we've done the hard work for you?”
    “I'll stay. The
sooner this is resolved the better.” Mycroft gave his brother a
fake smile, which Sherlock dutifully returned. Amelia's yawning
broke the awkward silence before it could get going.
    “Well, if you two
are going to keep awake I might take a nap. There's no knowing when
we'll get a reply.”
    “Really? You don't
want to finish up our little lesson?” Sherlock asked. “We can show
my brother what you've learnt.”
    “I'm sure Myron
has no desire to see me try to pick your pocket or anything like
it, for that matter.”
    “On the contrary.
If you're as gifted as my brother claims, Miss Jones, I'm very
curious.” Mycroft knew she'd felt awkward and wanted to see exactly
what she'd been doing with his brother. At the least, it made her
squirm, destroying the smug air she'd had for over an hour, and at
most, it might prove useful in his own training of her.
    Sherlock put his
coat on and stood in the centre of the room with his eyes closed.
After composing herself, Amelia glided towards him and tried to
slip the familiar card into his pocket without him noticing. Just
as she was pulling away she made a noise with one foot on a creaky
floor-board. The sound gave her away, but the motion hadn't.
Despite that, Sherlock grabbed for her and had her wrist locked in
his grip less than a second later. She pouted in response.
    “Close,” he said,
a sparkle in his eyes.
    “If it wasn't for
the floor, I'd have managed that one.”
    “Perhaps, but I'd
have noticed,” Mycroft said, interrupting their little moment. She
turned her pouting expression to him.
    “Care to take a
wager on that?” Sherlock held out a stack of twenty pound notes.
Without even working out how many were there Mycroft nodded and
stood up. If Amelia objected to being put to the test, she didn't
protest. Instead, she stood off to the side as Sherlock instructed
him to stand in the same spot. After fixing his eyes on her for a
moment and seeing the look of doubt she couldn't hide, he closed
his eyes.
    Instantly, his
other senses took over from his sight, and he became more aware of
every little breeze and scent playing across the room. Amelia's
sweet but gentle perfume lingered beside less pleasant smells, but
he focused on the nicest of the fragrances, knowing its strength
would signal her approach. He also concentrated