‘Or on clothes or furniture, by the looks of his current place,’ said Flowers.

‘I can imagine,’ Dawn said, rolling her eyes. ‘He didn’t bring much with him when we moved in together.’

‘Did Art fly to Khancoban regularly or, for that matter, any other town?’ Ryder asked.

Flowers mentally kicked himself for not thinking of that question.

‘I have no idea. I’m sorry I can’t help you more, but Art flew all over the place. He’d tell me when to expect him home, and that’s all I needed to know really. I was always busy organising events for the bowling club where I work.’

Flowers nodded, then caught Ryder’s eye. The sergeant gave a quick shake of his head indicating there was nothing else he wanted to ask. Flowers looked at his watch and smiled at Dawn. ‘Thanks very much. We have a clearer picture of him now.’

They all stood, and Flowers and Ryder took a last look at Mabel. ‘Good luck with her,’ Flowers said. ‘It’s great to hear about animals being released back into the wild.’

As they left the house, he said to Ryder, ‘So, Lorrimer didn’t live like a trust-fund baby.’

‘No, and neither do the others,’ Ryder said. ‘You can tell Ethan resents him and Heidi having to work elsewhere to supplement the family income.’

‘I noticed the homestead was a bit run down. The window paint’s peeling, and they spend zilch on heating.’

‘It’s not that unusual,’ Ryder said. ‘The countryside’s green now but they’ve come through a long period of drought. They’ll be hoping for a few good years of rainfall.’

When they reached the car, Flowers lobbed the keys at Ryder. ‘If I’m going to make that flight to Canberra, Sarge, you’d better put your foot down.’

Eleven

By 4 pm daylight was fading fast, with angry dark clouds building up over Lake Jindabyne. Flowers strode into the Nuggets Crossing shopping centre, aiming to top up his food supplies and his badly depleted caffeine levels. The bakery would be closed by now, but he was confident someone would be serving coffee to the crowds returning to town after a day on the mountain.

When he reached the group of shops built around a courtyard, he spotted an OPEN sign in the window of the Brumby Cafe and Gallery. Inside, he followed his nose to the cafe at the back. Benches with charging stations were built along the walls where a couple in ski gear were perched drinking hot chocolates. On the other side, a man in a ski-patrol uniform like Vanessa’s was typing on his laptop.

Flowers approached the counter where a tall woman about his age with shoulder-length dark hair was heating milk in the machine. She looked up and smiled.

‘I’m pleased you haven’t shut that down,’ he said, watching.

‘What can I get you?’

‘Any chance of a turmeric latte?’