Sherlock's daughter.

Case.

Sherlock was on the phone and John spoke to me.
"He'll warm up to you I promise," John said.
I nodded weakly not knowing how to reply.
"Really!? Yes," Sherlock spoke into the phone.
Then he set down his phone and jumped for his coat.
"Aren't you coming John!? We have a case!!" He bolted down the stairs.
"Do you want to come?" John asked.
I nodded.
"Come on then," he smiled walking down the stairs while I followed.
We walked to an apartment building.
"This is the second suicide this month," the detective spoke.
I walked into the room. I walked around the body and the room.
"This wasn't a suicide," Sherlock and I said at the time.
"You try," sherlock spoke.
"Well the gun is in her right hand but she is obviously left handed. The bullet won't match the gun. Also there is mud and tred on the bottom of the shoe which would probably mean we was outside but, it was unexpected she didn't have her coat with her. She also had her pockets facing out which means the killer was looking for something," I replied.
"Nice job. But there is also her hair and makeup she was heading on a date but as Vivian explained-" he began.
"Vi," I corrected.
"She didn't except to be outside so it was an inside dinner date most likely," Sherlock replied.
"Nice work," John smiled at me.
"Thank you John," Sherlock hurried down the steps.
I paused and leaned down for a moment. I twisted her wrist over. Her finger nails have dug into her skin.
"Sherlock?" I called.
He picked his head in.
"Yes?" He sighed.
"Her finger nails. She was angry. Could this have been a domestic act?" I asked.
He walked over and inspected.
"Maybe..." he replied.
"Are there neighbors here? How long has she been here?" John asked.
"Yes and she doesn't even live here the apartment belongs to a Mr. Harry Kely. But he died about a month ago. The apartment was left in his daughters name. Ms. Jules Kely. She was the other suicide," the detective replied.
"Wait? Jules Kely?! Jules Jane Kely?" I asked.
He nodded.
"She was mums friend she was there when mum died. She's dead? Are you sure? Because much like my mum she has faked her death before," I asked.
"She is dead," he nodded.
I began to pace.
"I..... I think... whoever did all of this killed mum...they said mum was shot. She was walking up the drive way...... when it happened..... what is her name?" I asked pointing to the victim.
"Um a Lucy. Lucy Mary Clark," he replied.
Lucy😵
Mum😵
Jules😵
Harriet
Daniela
Amanda
Me.....
"Daniela Christy Luis. Harriet Poppy Johnson. Amanda June Peterson. They will be the killers next targets..... and.... me.... mum was apart of a group of women that were trained to be spies and stuff....." I replied.
"Put tabs on all of those names," the detective ordered.
My phone buzzed. A bullet fired. Glass breaking.