And it was even stranger to hear her plead. ‘Please don’t,’ she said in a whisper. I guess she realised that nothing she tried was going to work. ‘Molly needs me. Her mum.’

  And then I remember the person indicating for Sammi to get on the ground.

  It’s funny how some things are clear and others are not at all. This bit is clear. Sammi put her hands up and stared at whoever was holding the gun. She never broke eye contact. She slowly got down on one knee and then the other. Like she knew what was expected of her. That whatever she said wasn’t going to change the outcome.

  The figure stepped forward and leaned down close to her ear. I guess they whispered something that made her really angry again, because her arm moved so quickly from the back of her head, forming a fist and backhanding her clenched knuckles into the person’s face.

  Then came the loudest sound I’d ever heard, and Sammi was on the ground.

  I saw blood in the air and on the floor.

  I saw blood on Mum.

  CHAPTER 11

  The coffins were identical. Both dark rosewood, like the colour of the furniture in their lounge room. Old fashioned and heavy, with a single white rose atop each one. Even though Iris had loved her garden and flowers, Molly hadn’t wanted obscene casket bouquets. Just something simple to show her love for them, because her love had never been loud or flamboyant. It was deep and quiet and real.

  Their coffins rested on sparkling trolleys at the far end of the chapel. Those stupid trolleys looked so shiny and new, when Molly thought they should be dull. Nothing should be sparkly in a funeral, she’d decided as she’d dressed that morning. Nothing happy like sunflowers or shiny like trolleys.

  Had the funeral directors ever organised a double funeral before?

  Molly glanced behind her and saw more people entering the chapel.

  Tommy took her hand and squeezed it hard. He was on one side of her, and Bev and Richard were on the other.

  Martin had suggested that Eric’s coffin be draped in the Australian flag, along with his police-issued hat. He’d also said he could organise to have officers in dress uniform carry Eric’s coffin, even though he was no longer a serving officer. But Molly had insisted that both her parents have the same treatment. Eric and Iris would have wanted that. No fanfare for either of them. They had been quiet, simple people. Together in life, together in death.

  Molly used the order of service to fan herself. Even with the air conditioning on, she was so glad she’d asked to have the funeral early in the morning, before the heat of the day really got vicious. The temperature in the room was rising with each person who came in, the warmth of their bodies combining.

  Funerals should be banned on hot days. All the emotions plus the heat could easily become a recipe for disaster. Please don’t let anyone faint, she wished. She would feel like she’d have to help, but all she wanted to do was get out of this stifling room and breathe some fresh air.

  Richard’s forehead was covered in sweat and he looked a little queasy. Catching the funeral director’s eye, Molly indicated for her to hand him a bottle of water.

  As the celebrant stepped to the lectern, Molly heard Bev take a deep breath.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Molly whispered.

  Bev nodded, but there were tears brimming. She reached for Molly’s hand. ‘You?’

  What a stupid, stupid question.

  ‘We are here to celebrate the lives of Iris and Eric Bennett,’ the celebrant said, adjusting her glasses. Her tone was soft and gentle and she smiled at Molly, her face filled with compassion.

  Above her head rolled a continuous stream of photos from their lives together. The one from the bedside table of their wedding; Eric in uniform, his young handsome face excited at the future. Another of Iris, smiling while serving up a chicken dinner at the kitchen bench, her overpermed 1980s hair curling around her face. Tash had given her a couple of photos to add: one of a Christmas when Molly was eight and another of Eric, Iris and Tash at a police function. Both Tash and Eric had been in uniform. Molly had never seen the photo before and then asked if there were any of Tash and Sammi when they were kids. Tash had promised to send some through.

  She felt a nudge from Tommy and saw the celebrant looking at her.

  Molly rose and walked to the front, a scrunched piece of paper in her sweaty hand.

  Standing at the lectern, she gazed out at all the people. There were faces she recognised and others she didn’t. Some people wore police uniforms, others casual clothes. They fanned themselves and looked back at her with compassion.

  Suddenly it didn’t matter what was written on that piece of paper. All that mattered was that these people had known her adoptive parents. They knew what kind of hearts they both had.

  ‘Um, thanks for coming today,’ Molly said into the microphone. There was a loud feedback screech and the celebrant came forward to adjust the settings then moved silently away. ‘I’m sure Mum and Dad touched every one of your lives in some way.’ Molly took a breath then a sip of water from the glass that was discreetly under the lectern. ‘Dad might have been small in stature, but he was a mountain of a man. His smile and quick wit kept all of us entertained. The laughter that came from around the table on the nights that he and Mum used to hold dinner parties was loud and could be heard from a long way away. When I was coming home from work after a late shift, I’d often stop at the end of the driveway and listen. I’m not sure even the word “raucous” would be adequate to describe the noise!

  ‘Dad loved his job. His career as a police officer spanned more than forty years and I remember him telling me that Kalgoorlie was the only place he wanted to police. He loved it here.

  ‘Mum’s heart was as large as her smile and all of you here know how big that was. She loved everyone and everything.

  ‘They were both truly unique – and irreplaceable to me and many of you here, I’m sure. They gave me love when there wasn’t anyone to love me. And I guess that’s a sign of the way they both cared for all of their fellow humans.’ Molly looked up. ‘We have to be careful at funerals that we don’t idolise those who have left us. Mum and Dad had faults, of course, but their flaws paled against their warm and loving natures. I should know. They took me in when I had nowhere else to go and loved me as their own.’

  And that was the last thing Molly remembered from the service.

  She knew there had been music, because she’d chosen the songs. Richard had given a eulogy for Eric, as had Eric’s golf buddy Neil. Two of Iris’s dear friends from her sewing and bridge group had spoken fondly of her when it had been their turn, as had the president of the CWA.

  But it all passed by in a blur for Molly. After she’d stepped away from the lectern, she’d sat with her head down, her white handkerchief wrapped so tightly around the fingers on her right hand that the tips went bright red. She stared at the embroidery in the corner: MW. Iris had always stitched Molly’s initials onto every piece of clothing she’d made for her.

  Movement and rustling made her look up.

  The curtains were drawing together. Inch by inch, they covered the view of the coffins until they were tightly shut.

  The room was silent, except for the occasional person sniffing or softly clearing their throat.

  ‘No!’ Molly whispered, putting her hand over her mouth as tears slipped down her cheeks. She half rose, one arm reaching out, then she sat back down.

  Bev and Tommy moved together, their arms around her shoulders. Leaning into her. Letting her know they were there.

  The celebrant told everyone there would be morning tea inside the hall, directing everyone to take the door on the right at the back of the chapel and follow the signs.

  Another pin drop of silence, and then people shifted in their seats, getting up, stretching. Each one looking at Molly. She felt curiosity, sadness, concern and care coming at her from every direction.

  Janet would have told her to breathe in deeply through her nose and out through her mouth. ‘Ten times, Molly. Doing that drops your heart rate and decreases the fight or flight response.’ Tash had been right with her suggestion to go and see Janet as soon as she could. There hadn’t been time, though. There was so much to organise and at the end of each day, Molly had fallen into bed exhausted but still unable to sleep.

  ‘Come on, love,’ Bev said, putting her arm through Molly’s. ‘Let’s get you to the hall. Everyone will follow when they’re ready.’

  Molly wanted to protest. She wasn’t ready. Her parents were still behind that curtain. She couldn’t go yet.

  Her throat tightened. She took a deep breath, in and out as she’d been taught, and let herself be led by Bev and Tommy, with Richard bringing up the rear.

  Then she saw Tash. Her godmother was dressed in civvies, rather than her police uniform. No one wanted to wear the full dress uniform today, it was too damn hot. Thirty-five in the shade before eleven in the morning. But Tash’s choice of clothing also told Molly that she was here in her personal capacity, rather than for work.

  The sunlight through the windows caught the small diamond on the silver necklace she always wore. Beads of sweat lined her forehead, and her cheeks were shiny with tears.

  The tears were a surprise to Molly. Yet they shouldn’t be. Tash had known Eric and Iris the same amount of time as Molly had.

  Molly caught Tash’s eyes and held out her hand. Tash put her hand in Molly’s, giving it a slight squeeze. Together they went towards the hall.

  ‘Thanks for coming,’ Molly whispered, her voice thick.

  ‘I’m sorry I had to,’ Tash answered quietly.

  Molly looked at her, unsure what to say.

  ‘What I mean is, I’m sorry there was an accident, and they passed away. That all of this has happened so I have to be here.’

  This time it was Molly who squeezed Tash’s hand. ‘Me too.’

  CHAPTER 12

  Jack stood next to Angie at the funeral reception, moving from one foot to the other, trying to get the pressure of his shoes off the blisters that were still healing from his run the day he’d heard about the bullet. ‘That poor girl looks like she’s about to buckle,’ he said to Angie.

  Molly was pale-faced, standing near a wall, hemmed in by well-wishers. She looked like she was trying to find a way to escape.

  ‘Losing two parents in one fell swoop will do that,’ Angie said. ‘So will people who want the scoop. Nosy parkers. Should we save her?’

  ‘Reckon Superintendent Biggs will have that covered – and if she’s hasn’t, I will,’ Martin said, as he came to stand alongside them, holding a cup of tea. He indicated to the woman who was now weaving her way through the crowd to stand next to Molly. Richard was also hovering close by as if ready to leap on anyone who put too much pressure on her.

  Jack assessed the superintendent. He’d met her before, several times in fact, but had never seen her in civvies. She was a tall woman, with a straight back. Her reputation was of a no-nonsense operator and that’s how he’d always found her, but today there was a hint of vulnerability and protectiveness in her face as she stood close to Molly. Death rocked even the most hardened. ‘Wouldn’t want to mess with her,’ he said. Turning his attention back to the crowd he leaned against the wall, people-watching.

  ‘Who are you looking for?’ Martin asked in a low voice.

  Jack gave a minute shrug. ‘No one in particular.’

  His boss took a step backwards and drew himself up to his full height, casting a look around the room. Angie did the same, but from a different angle.

  ‘You’re on leave, Angie,’ Martin said through the corner of his mouth.

  ‘Old habits . . .’ Angie gave a lopsided smile.

  ‘You got anything I should know about, Jack?’ Martin asked.

  Jack shook his head. ‘Not so far. We’re still trawling through all of the information and evidence from the crash site, but . . . I don’t know. There’s something about that MVA I’m uncomfortable with. Dave, my old boss, always told me to—’

  ‘Trust your gut, yeah, we know,’ Angie said, sounding like she wanted to roll her eyes. ‘If I had a dollar for every time you’ve said that I wouldn’t have to go back to work.’

  Martin scoffed. ‘Of course you would. You couldn’t live without being a detective, Angie. That’s what makes you so good.’ He smiled at her. ‘I still haven’t found a replacement for you yet, so you might be back at the station before you know it.’ He focused on Jack. ‘What’s off about the accident?’

  ‘Just a few little inconsistencies I can’t work out. Molly will probably have an answer for me when I’m able to get close to her, so when I’ve got concrete info, I’ll let you know.’

  ‘Good job,’ Martin said.

  Angie cocked a brow towards Jack. ‘So, Eric and Iris adopted Molly when she was only a child?’

  ‘It’s a pretty tragic story,’ Martin said. ‘Her mother was murdered in New South Wales and Molly witnessed it. She was only five at the time. The officers in charge were worried that the murderer might double back and find Molly because of what she’d seen, so the superintendent here organised for her to be taken in through Legacy. And now the poor girl has lost her second set of parents.’

  Angie stared at Martin, whose usually deadpan face showed sadness. ‘That’s terrible.’

  ‘It is,’ Martin agreed. He finished his tea and put the cup down on the table they were standing near. ‘Right, I need to get back to the station. I’ll go and speak with Molly then head off.’

  ‘See you back there,’ Jack said.

  Martin nodded and slipped through the crowd.

  ‘Is there something more than inconsistencies that’s worrying you about the crash?’ Angie asked immediately. ‘It sounded like there was.’

  Jack paused before answering. ‘I want some evidence before I say too much. Hopefully Tim, Adam and Ava will have some dashcam footage for me when I get back. That’ll help. It’s taken a bloody long time to find the CCTV footage we need. Do you know how many services stations there are from Perth to Kal?’

  ‘Too many when it comes to sifting through security-cam vision.’

  ‘You’re not wrong.’

  Angie stepped back to let a woman holding a plate of triangular cut sandwiches and homemade sausage rolls pass by. ‘What do you think happened?’

  Jack waited until they were alone again. ‘I have nothing to back this up with yet,’ he warned. ‘And you’re the major crash expert. But my hypothesis is there was a second vehicle involved.’

  Angie raised her eyebrows in surprise and tipped her head to the side. ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘The damage to the barrier is the first thing. The photos make it look like Eric’s car has been boxed in against it. Maybe another vehicle passing them got too close, or something happened in the car that made them keep bumping into the railing but not correcting enough to get back out on the road or slow down to a stop.’

  ‘Any paint from a different car?’

  ‘There’s plenty of paint, but I need to wait for forensics to come back to me. Everything we’ve got so far is white. Can’t tell if it’s only their car or two just by looking. The barrier has been pushed in.’

  ‘What about Eric’s car? Any evidence inside?’

  ‘Not a lot to suggest they’d been to Perth. No shopping or appointment letters or theatre tickets. I want to talk to Molly as soon as I can and ask some questions around that. I’ll find out if they had a hotel they liked to stay at.’ He paused as another couple walked close by. When they were out of earshot he continued. ‘Molly has had a bit of time to come to terms with the accident and to think about why Eric and Iris might’ve decided on a trip away. Hopefully she’s got some ideas.’

  ‘Do they have receipts on their phones?’

  ‘There weren’t any phones found. That in itself is strange. Who doesn’t carry a phone with them nowadays? I’ll have to ask Molly about that. And their bank accounts haven’t been looked at yet. Still waiting for a warrant. Another question for Molly.’

  ‘The big question is why. Was it a medical incident or . . .’

  Jack saw the familiar faraway look that always passed over Angie’s face when she was thinking hard.

  ‘It’s difficult,’ she said.

  ‘You’re telling me! One other thing is that Iris was driving but everyone’s adamant that ordinarily she wouldn’t drive on a long trip.’ He looked over at Angie. ‘Anyhow, I’d better get back to the station too. See if there’s any updates. Maybe you could go and see Molly tomorrow. See how she is?’

  Angie narrowed her eyes. ‘In what capacity? Have you forgotten I’m on mat leave?’

  ‘A friend. A nosy friend.’ Jack grinned, but it fell away quickly. ‘Look, I do need to talk to her ASAP. I’ll head over to see her tomorrow. I just thought it might help if she had someone with her.’

  ‘Yeah, it would, but probably not me. I mean, I only know her through the hospital and her visits at home to see Charlie. And that’s sort of bending the rules, you know. I’m sure she’s got friends who can help.’

  ‘I’m sure she does.’ Jack shrugged. He wanted Angie’s expertise. She’d worked in major crash for a while. ‘Who’s the bloke next to her?’

  Angie turned slightly and observed. ‘I think that’s someone from the hospital. I remember his face but not his name. Come on, let’s go and find out. Then we can both split. I need to get back to Charlie soon.’

  Jack elbowed his way through the crowd.

  Molly was clearly still trying to smile as people came over to talk to her, but the emotion in her face was raw and she looked exhausted. Her smile was pasted on.

  When she caught sight of Angie, though, Jack saw genuine relief cross her face. Angie held out her hands and kissed Molly on the cheek.

  ‘Angie. Thanks for coming.’

  ‘You’ve organised a lovely service. I’m sorry I didn’t know Eric and Iris, but they were obviously wonderful.’