Page 2 of Between Two Shores

“I’m Beth.” She slumped against the rigid seat, her spine grating against the cold aluminum. Bethany gazed at the view of the sparkling ocean and took slow, deep breaths. The saltwater sprayed like pins past the window as the ferry bounced at high speed. Land only minutes away. Why couldn’t she handle a thirty-minute trip to Rottnest Island? Ridiculous. And she hoped to be a cutting-edge journalist? She shook her head. If she didn’t get the scoop on the Quokka numbers decline, then perhaps the story of a woman throwing up on a Navy officer could be her backup. A local story might get her boss’s attention—although a tad boring, the Fremantle Herald might print it.

She peeked from the corner of her eye. Wally had given up for the moment and tapped away on his phone. Thuds from the stairs made her head turn and lock eyes with the well-built counselor. His uniform contoured to firm muscles. She mentally scolded herself—just because she was a single thirty-one-year-old, didn’t mean she should ogle the American.

With a broad smile that could melt icebergs in Antarctica, the handsome counselor held out a bottle of spring water. “This should help.” His smooth accent soothed like a healing balm.

“You’re so kind—even after I ruined your shoe.”

“And I took another bullet.” He pointed to his chest and winked as he sat beside her. His muscular thigh brushed hers.

She inched away and spotted two wet patches on his khaki uniform. Bethany ground her back teeth. That must be why he took so long, cleaning her mess. Had she sprayed him when he’d bent to help her earlier? So gross.

“I’ll buy you a new one when we get to the island.” She rushed her words.

His eyebrow twitched as a grin formed. “They sell Navy uniforms there?”

“No. But there are souvenir t-shirts. It can remind you of when a nit-wit reporter couldn’t keep it together on the Rottnest Ferry.” She gave a sheepish grin, then took a sip of the water, letting the cold soothe her throat.

“A reporter, hey?” His brown eyes sparkled as he angled toward her. “What are you investigating?”

“There’s been an unusual amount of deaths among the Quokka marsupials. They’re already vulnerable to extinction. Rottnest Island has kept them safe from predators like foxes or cats, but scientists are trying to work out why an increased number has become sick recently.”

His eyes widened. “So, I better not touch one? They might be diseased.”

She leaned in and whispered, “No. They’ve ruled that out. Now the police are involved. Something suspicious is going on. One corpse had traces of plastics, but they could’ve been poisoned on purpose.”

He scrunched his brow. “Who’d want to hurt those cute mini-kangaroos?”

She let out a laugh. The Quokkas did look like baby roos, and they were adorable. “I know, right? It doesn’t make sense. That’s why I’m on a mission to find out. But I only have today to investigate.”

“Can we help?” He glanced at his friend and back. “If you don’t mind Wally coming along, that is?”

“You’ve noticed I’m not keen on your mate.”

“Yes, I saw the warning don’t-you-dare-go-there look. You can see through his façade.” He lowered his voice. “I understand. I’m assigned to keep an eye on him. He got into a brawl last night at the Sail and Anchor pub with some lady’s boyfriend.”

Wally’s face had a slight mauve-gray mark below one eye. That’d teach him. Why did sailors annoy her? Not all should be judged by the bunch of meatheads she came across at sixteen.

“What do you say?” The counselor raised a brow.

She straightened her back and tilted her chin. “What’s your name anyway?”

He offered his hand. “Counselor Peters, they call me in the Navy. Lachlan is my preferred name.”

She gave him a firm handshake. “They call me Private Detective Michaels.”

He sniggered. “Nice.”

“Most people know me as Bethany or Beth.” She grinned. “It may be to my advantage to have you both on my investigation team for the day. No one would expect American tourists to be snooping up a scoop.”

“This could be a lot of fun. I’m up for an undercover adventure.” He gave a ridiculously attractive smile.

“To be honest, I’m a part-time copy editor for a local newspaper. They paid me for two articles, but the rest were free submissions. I want to become a full-time journalist, not the sub-editor. I’m at the bottom rung of the ladder.” She shrugged. “But I’ve got to start somewhere.”

“True.”

“If this ends up a bigger story than imagined, I’ll submit the article to the West Australian. That would be a dream come true—published in the state’s newspaper.”

“I hope I can help those dreams come true.” He lowered his voice. “And, hey, if Wally acts out as usual, maybe it’ll make national news.” He chuckled, then shook his head. “No, that would be bad on my part. I’m assigned to him, so we keep our reputation intact. And save his butt from being discharged and sent back to the U.S.”

---