‘See you a bit later, Eva,’ Ryder said, standing up and giving Poppy’s head a gentle rub.

‘What time does Vanessa finish?’ Flowers asked as they walked into Ryder’s suite.

‘She’s always one of the last to come in.’ Ryder checked his watch. ‘Maybe half an hour. Okay, where do we go from here?’

Flowers sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Should we try and contact Rodney Garrett through Heidi before we issue a warrant for his arrest?’

‘Let’s give him until the morning,’ Ryder said as his phone pinged with an email alert. ‘No longer than that though.’ Ryder opened the email. ‘It’s the handwriting analyst,’ he said. ‘That was quick.’

Flowers stood up, shrugged the blanket off his shoulders and looked at Ryder expectantly. Ryder scrolled past the technical information until he reached the analyst’s conclusion. He looked at Flowers.

‘It’s a forgery.’

Thirty

Inside his apartment, Flowers ran the shower while he stripped off his clothes. Before leaving the Golden Wattle, he and Ryder had arranged a meeting with the Lorrimers at their lawyer’s office for the following morning.

Flowers stepped into the shower, the hot water streaming over his head and shoulders, soothing his tired muscles. Ryder had suggested he get a good night’s sleep ahead of the meeting. I need to organise a few things for this blasted court case, he’d said. Hopefully, I won’t need to give more evidence, but if I do, you’ll have more on your plate, so I want you fit.

Fit? Aside from the case work and the severe exposure he’d experienced today, it was the continuous lack of sleep that was wearing Flowers down. He braced his hands on the wall behind the showerhead and closed his eyes, his chilled body finally beginning to warm up. Once again, his thoughts shifted to Sterling. He needed to ring her later. In all the time she’d been undercover, last night was the only one he’d missed. He hoped she knew it had been their early-morning arrival back in Thredbo that had prevented him from calling, and not because she’d hung up on him the night before.

Straightening up, he raked his hair back with his fingers and reached for the body wash, a fraction of his energy restored. Several minutes later, he turned off the taps, stepped from the shower and dried himself off.

Muscles stiffening up from his trek to Buchanan Hut, and with his core body temperature finally restored, he set his alarm for two hours’ time and rolled into bed.

The storm that had raged across the mountains for much of the day had subsided while Flowers was asleep. Still groggy, he dressed in jeans and a hoodie and went into the living room. Beyond the windows, the night was dark and calm. As he pulled the curtains closed, he could hear the snow guns firing in the near distance.