‘Thanks, but I’d better make a move. The kids are coming up on Monday and I still have a few things I want to get in order in the shack before they arrive.’

‘No worries.’ He pushed to a stand.

‘But let me help you clean up before I go.’

‘Don’t be silly, you’re my guest.’

I held up my hand. ‘I’m not taking no for an answer. Don’t you know the rule about the person who cooks not having to clean up?’

Dan tried to put up a fight, but I marched into the kitchen and got stuck in, leaving him no choice but to follow me. Lion rubbed himself against my legs while I rinsed and Dan stacked the dishwasher. It felt so normal chatting and working alongside him, but I pushed that thought quickly out of my head. Despite the fact Dan and I got on well and he was certainly easy on the eye, I didn’t plan on falling head-first into another relationship. I needed time to help my children through my divorce and also to focus on me.

We’d almost finished when I noticed a tin right at the far end of the bench, almost hidden behind the microwave.

‘Is that the tin we found this afternoon?’

Dan hesitated and his cheeks flushed before he nodded. ‘I know I said maybe we shouldn’t be reading them, but I thought they might give some insight into Bill. Maybe there’d even be something that might help the police work out who he was?’

‘So you’re going to read them to look for clues?’

His blush grew darker. ‘I already have.’

‘I see.’ I couldn’t quite work out the expression on his face—was there something else he wasn’t telling me? ‘And? Did you learn anything about Bill?’

‘Not really, but I’m pretty damn sure I know who wrote these letters.’

‘Really? Who was it?’

Dan dumped his tea towel on the bench, then leaned back against it. ‘My mum.’

I was still trying to wrap my head around what he’d just said when he continued, ‘She collected tins exactly like these. They’re all on display at Gemma’s house in a special cabinet. She continued collecting after Mum died and still buys every new Arnott’s tin that comes out. A few years ago, she realised there was one missing—one that was released when Mum was alive—so she hunted on eBay until she found a replacement. I can’t help wondering if this is the missing one.’

It took a moment for me to realise what he was getting at. A chill spread over my skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. ‘You think your mother wrote those letters?’

He nodded. ‘She must have given Bill the tin as a gift and that’s why he kept her letters in them.’