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door.
    “Anything?” Hunter enquired. It was typical opening parlance between detectives when visiting the homes of murder victims. What it actually meant was, ‘Have they revealed or given anything away;’ until Mr and Mrs Morris were ‘alibied’ they were suspects.
    Caroline Blake shook her head. “They’re just numb. Still finding it difficult to accept that their daughter is dead.” She showed them into the front room and went off into the kitchen to make a fresh pot of tea.
    He was pleased Caroline had been given the job as the FLO. He could remember interviewing her for this position only two months ago and guessed this was her first case. Despite her newness to the job he knew from her background that she would cope admirably.
    He and Grace could see as soon as they entered the room that Mr and Mrs Morris had suffered a sleepless night, and the redness of their eyes revealed many hours of crying. As soon as the questioning began it was obvious they were trying to be strong despite the intense sadness and pressure that was consuming them. Mrs Morris broke down repeatedly and tears welled in Jack Morris’s eyes as he spoke of a very happy daughter and showed off felt-tipped messages on cards from well-wishers that had been pushed through their door.
    Hunter and Grace questioned them for almost two hours, going over home and school routines and asking about her closest friends.
    “Any boyfriends?” Grace explored.
    “There were boys who were friends,” Mrs Morris replied “But she had no boyfriends that we are aware of.” She always checked her room, she added, glancing at her husband.
    They could not give any explanation for Rebecca changing out of her school clothes into the T-shirt and jeans she had been found in.
    Hunter could see from their returned looks, that was a mystery, which was tearing at their heartstrings.
    “She was a typical teenage girl, loved her boy bands, dressing up and playing around with make-up. She was always so cheerful, the life and soul of the house. Rebecca was a very special person who touched the lives of so many people. We don’t know anyone who would want to hurt her like this,” ended Jack Morris, a film of tears suddenly washing over his eyes, and as he hooked an arm around his wife’s shoulder she began to sob uncontrollably.
    “Can you let us see her room?” Hunter asked. “Just in case there’s anything which may give us a lead,” he added.
    Mrs Morris guided them upstairs and to the left of the landing. There was a plaque on the door – ‘Rebecca’s room’ – more than likely put there when she was just a young child. A more up to date one, no doubt added by Rebecca , stated ‘KEEP OUT - GENIUS AT WORK’.
    “Do you regularly check her room?” chipped in Grace.
    “Not exactly check. The odd flick round with a duster and a bit of straightening. Rebecca is a very tidy girl – was,” she corrected herself and fresh tears welled into her eyes. Hunter touched her gently on one shoulder. “I’m afraid we need to do a thorough search of her room. If you find this upsetting you can wait downstairs.”
    “No I’ll be okay” she sniffed and dabbed at her eyes “It still doesn’t seem real. I feel as though she’ll burst through the door at any second.”
    Hunter couldn’t find the right response and chose to shrug his shoulders as he pushed open the bedroom door. He paused for a second, surveying the surroundings. The first thing he thought was how bright and airy the room was. A stream of bright sunshine warmed it. The pink and beige décor of the walls matched the bedding. Two large purple cushions lay against the pine headboard, surrounded by a hoard of fluffy teddy bears and other creatures. Having already gathered from the Morris’s that their daughter was still a child at heart. It was these things that reinforced in his mind the innocence of the girl. Posters of several boy bands, whom he had heard of but couldn’t name the individual