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gaze seemed to get stuck on the open neck of his shirt. “Out of sight, out of mind.”
    â€œWhat if you needed to garden?” And didn’t that just make him picture her kneeling in the garden bed, her ass in the air?
    â€œIt was the middle of the summer.” She gathered her hair in a bunch and let it fall down her back. He followed the line of her upraised arms with his eyes. “The, um, grass doesn’t even need mowing. Because…it doesn’t get enough water. To grow.”
    â€œThat’s…logical.”
    With difficulty, Rafe dragged his eyes back to the envelope. Opening it, he pulled out a handful of loose pieces of paper. “You must spend a lot on art supplies.”
    â€œThey’re not all from buying art supplies. I’m never sure what’s allowable and what isn’t, so just to be on the safe side, I keep every receipt I get.”
    â€œO-kay. Every receipt?” he echoed faintly, feeling a sharp twinge in his stomach. He put the envelope down and opened his briefcase. He found that if he avoided looking at her, it was easier to concentrate.
    â€œI’ll go through them with you,” Lexie said. “Butfirst, I’ve got to take a load of stuff to the thrift store. I’ve got to declutter. I can’t think.”
    â€œI’ll help,” Hetty volunteered, returning from the kitchen.
    â€œThanks, Mum.” Lexie abandoned the receipts, grabbed her purse from the table and headed for the front door. She yelled over her shoulder, “I’ll be back.”
    Hetty took a seat at the table and gazed expectantly at Rafe. “What would you like me to do?”
    Rafe scanned the slips of paper in his hand and shook his head. Lexie had put receipts from different years in the same envelope. “You could start sorting these by year.”
    Murphy was doing the rounds of the living room, sniffing at every chair. Yin watched him through slitted green eyes from the arm of the couch. “Murphy, here.” The dog trotted over and lay at his feet under the table.
    Hetty started separating the receipts into piles. “I don’t mind telling you the family has been worried about Lexie’s finances. Ever since she quit teaching to paint full-time she’s had trouble making ends meet. But she refuses to accept help. She says she made the decision to be an artist, and she’s willing to live with the consequences. It’s nice of you to come to her house and do this for her.”
    â€œIt’s my job.” He wondered if he should mentionthat Lexie would likely cop a fine. He felt bad about that—
    Not his problem. Feeling sorry for the taxpayer was how he’d gotten into trouble over his last audit.
    He heard Lexie return for another box. A moment later he heard her car start.
    Rafe called up the spreadsheet onto the screen. He pulled a calculator out of his briefcase and began entering numbers. When he’d done all he could, he reached for an envelope and began sorting. There were receipts for the hairdresser (not deductible), art gallery entry (deductible), a car battery (debatable)—
    â€œDo you live locally?” Hetty asked.
    â€œSassafras, up in the Dandenongs. But I’m booked into a bed and breakfast just down the road.”
    â€œMyrna Bailey’s, right?” She waited for him to nod then went on, “Do you have family?”
    Rafe suppressed a sigh. What was it about middle-aged women that they had to know everything about a person? That they couldn’t sit at the same table without making conversation. “My parents live in Western Victoria, in Horsham. I have a sister in Brisbane.”
    â€œDo your parents farm?”
    It was a natural enough question given the location but he hated answering it. His parents, Darryl and Ellen, had moved to the country years ago, after Darryl’s accident, because it was cheaper than the city. Rafe always wanted to explain that