The detective’s heels clicked on the cement steps as he approached the door. The deputy ducked under the police line behind him. He knocked and the door was slowly opened by the woman. The blue and red lights were reflected in her wet eyes.
“Mrs. Johnson?” He asked.
“Yes. . . ?” The woman replies.
“Detective White.” He held up his polished badge.
“Oh, come in.” She stepped aside.
Several officers standing in the kitchen nodded to the detective as he entered, the deputy trailing behind.
“Smith, fill me in.” He said, turning to one of the officers.
“Madison Johnson, fifteen years of age, found nine hours dead at 9 am this morning in her bed, cause of death unknown.”
“Alright, let’ see her room.”
The group shuffled up the stairs and into the dark room strewn with clothes. A desktop hummed in the corner.
“Mrs. Johnson?” The detective turned to the anxious woman.
“Yes?”
“What was your daughter doing the night before this happened?”
“Well, she got home from school, ate dinner, sat at her computer for a while and then went to sleep.”
“Her computer. . .”
White walked over to the computer and moved the mouse. The monitor woke up, displaying the girl’s email on the screen. The detective sat down, and read several emails. His eyes darted across the screen for some painfully long minutes, before he turned in the swiveling chair to the rest of the team with a grave face.
“Mrs. Johnson, I don’t know how to easily explain this to you. . .”
“Yes. . . ?”
“At approximately 10 pm last night, your daughter failed to forward a chain email.”