When she looked up, Gus and his entourage were leaving. Gus winked, and she sent him a cheeky wink in return. Ryder wanted her to get to know the locals, so if she needed to flirt a little, so be it. When the diners at another table stood up, she hurried to the kitchen, impatient to be on her way. ‘Any more mains to come?’

‘Nope,’ the kitchen hand answered. ‘We’re onto dessert.’

‘Heidi and a friend came in five minutes ago. I’m not sure if they’re going to order anything,’ Sterling said.

‘No problem.’

‘Is it okay if I head off?’ she asked Elijah when he joined her. ‘Chef’s finished the mains, and the place is starting to empty out.’

‘Absolutely, you get going,’ he said. ‘Simon’s here until closing time.’

After collecting her coat and bag, Sterling left the hotel and headed for the carpark. The rain had eased to a light shower. Soggy grass squelched under her Doc Martens.

I wonder if this will delay the Lorrimers’ plans . . . the man had said. Minutes before, Sergeant Collins had been speaking to Heidi, so presumably the man was referring to Art Lorrimer’s death. So, what were the Lorrimers planning?

Forcing everything from her mind, Sterling began her counter surveillance, peering left and right past the fur-lined edges of her hood. Of the dozen parked cars, Collins’ police vehicle, Spider’s dual-cab ute, plus hers and Elijah’s made up four. Of the remaining eight, two SUVs sported skis, snowboards and bikes, while two more were packed to the roof with pillows and toys. That left four sedans.

‘Hey.’

Sterling swung around, her heart hammering.

‘Yeah, you.’

She turned in the direction of the voice. ‘What’s up?’

A scrawny figure with a mop of dirty blond hair straightened up from between the cars. ‘Can you buy us a bottle of vodka?’ She recognised him as one of the underage drinkers she’d seen hanging around the pub lately.

Sterling unlocked her car. ‘Sorry, it’s illegal to buy alcohol for minors.’

Two shadows emerged from behind a tree and joined the boy who’d asked the question. ‘We’ll pay. We’ve got money,’ he said, clearly the ringleader.

‘Sorry, I work here. I’ll lose my job.’ Sterling slid behind the wheel and started the engine. Clicking the phone into the bracket on the windscreen, she hit the record feature and recited the registration numbers she’d memorised. Should the underage trio be watching, hopefully they’d think she was calling the police, or someone in the hotel.

Leaving the phone recording, she slowly reversed out, reading aloud the registration numbers of the two remaining cars. She checked her rear-view mirror, pleased to see the trio had melted into the darkness. Hopefully they were off home, sober.