“That didn’t take long.” My stomach dropped and I suddenly felt the weight of loss on my shoulders, so I headed back to my chair. Between Benita’s death and Ebony not listening to me, I wasn’t sure if I could stay on my feet. The last thing I wanted to do was collapse while the police were here. “It is a murder scene,” Oren said. “It makes sense that they would rush over.” Two policemen dressed in the familiar blue uniform of the New South Wales police appeared at my open office door, but only one of them knocked as they both wandered inside. “Good afternoon, I’m Senior Constable Stand, and this is Constable Crewe. You called this in?” The older policeman addressed Oren and dipped his chin in my direction. I didn’t have the energy to get to my feet at the moment. And with the omitting we were about to do, it was probably better to be sitting down. “Yes, I was. My name is Oren McKee.” Oren approached them, his hand outstretched. They both shook it. “My associate, Ms.
