In the bathroom, the towels were still hung haphazardly on the rack, a few pieces of rubbish in the bin. Satisfied the owner hadn’t been in, he put a frozen lasagne into the microwave and stacked the other meals in the freezer. The lofty goal of cooking from scratch had gone by the wayside now he was working days and half the night too. In a lone nod to healthy consumption, he sprawled on the lounge and twisted the top off a bottle of ginger kombucha. He scrolled on his phone for ten minutes, then decided to call Sterling and leave a message.

‘Hi, Mitch.’

Flowers sat up and put aside his drink. ‘Hey, Nerida, I didn’t think you’d be home yet.’

‘It was slow today. The most exciting thing was Elijah teaching me how to make cocktails.’

Lucky Elijah, Flowers thought with a sudden surge of longing that he swiftly shut down. ‘Did you get to drink them?’

‘Hah. He let me go early, actually, so I went for a snowboard this afternoon. Learn anything in Port Stephens?’

Flowers ignored the beeping microwave and recounted his trip to Lemon Tree Passage. ‘Newcastle forensics are going through the house and fishing boat, and the car he left at the airport. We had a brief look through his personal papers and put his dentist in touch with Harriet.’ He yawned. ‘I’ll go through the rest of the stuff in the morning while I’m waiting for Ryder to get here.’

There was silence at the other end of the line. Flowers picked up his kombucha and took a swig. ‘Are you working tomorrow?’ he asked.

‘I am, thank goodness. Even when I was out on the hill, I couldn’t stop those words running through my head.’

‘You mean: I wonder if this will delay the Lorrimers’ plans . . .’ Flowers said softly.

‘Yes, Mitch, those words.’

‘Yeah, my brain’s too dead to come up with anything.’

‘You and me both,’ she said with a sigh.

‘I do have a good news story though.’

‘Tell me.’

Flowers told her about the joey Dawn Fleming was caring for.

‘Oh my God, I wish I could have met Mabel,’ Sterling said. ‘I’m so jealous.’

‘We should check out the sanctuary when this is over.’ The words slipped out before he could stop them. Flowers grimaced, bracing for her response.

‘You’re a big softie, Mitch,’ she said with a low laugh. ‘I remember you adopted one of the koalas injured in the bushfires.’

‘I did,’ he said quickly. ‘I also cried when my Tamagotchi died in year two.’