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Melissa was asleep, having been sent home to try and catch up on some of the rest that grief and circumstances had denied her during the night, when her phone rang, vibrating noisily on the bedside cabinet. She woke with a start and groped for the phone without opening her eyes.
“Hello,” she croaked once she had the phone to her ear. She stayed with her face half-buried in the pillow, hoping the phone call was going to be a quick one so she could go back to sleep – she could not remember when she had ever felt as tired as she did then.
“Mel, it’s Paul,” Pritchard identified himself. “You’re needed at the station.”
“What for?” Melissa hoped she sounded more with it than she felt. With the greatest of reluctance, she pushed herself up until she was sitting on the edge of the bed; look
