CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Gloria Moore was in a state of shock when Mackenzie got there. Mackenzie felt bad for the fifty-five-year-old woman but would much rather deal with utter shock and disbelief than outright sorrow and wailing. She’d only received the call confirming her daughter’s death forty minutes ago and if Mackenzie had to guess, the full weight of the news had not yet registered. Right now, she simply looked tired and terribly confused.
She’d invited Mackenzie in right away, but walked through the house like a zombie. They’d settled down in a Gloria’s small living room and had sat in silence for a good twenty seconds before Mackenzie understood that it was going to take some prodding to get Gloria Moore out of her stupor.
“I know it may be hard to sort through these sorts of things
