Page 78 of Between Two Shores

The wind sucked out of his chest. Speechless.

Winston rubbed the back of his neck. “The charities are close in our city. We work together often. All of us were affected by the news.” He shook his head again. “That’s not the only suicide we’ve seen of late. Three organizations run by my closest friends have gone through similar situations. It’s shocking. Devasting for the families.” He thinned his lips. “And volunteers.” A sigh came next. “They don’t handle the news well. Life altering.”

“I can only imagine.” Was all Lachlan could say at the time.

Winston intensified his gaze. “You can help us, Lachlan. Not only from your training, but your insight into what happened with Nick also shows me you could be a vital member of our community. You can assist with your understanding of the biological aspects of people.” He leaned back into his chair. “I missed the signs with Nick. I didn’t see them in time to help the man.”

“Don’t feel guilty about that. You probably haven’t seen mood elevation to that extent before.”

Winston shook his head. “Reflecting over my years of service, several faces come to my mind that I now believe had a form of mania. It’s not easy to pick up, but there’s been the occasion where something just didn’t sit right, and I avoided a confrontation. I’ve seen some odd behavior.” He gave a sad smile.

“I bet.” Lachlan folded a leg over one knee. “So how do you think I fit into the picture?”

“We have a spare office here at Harbor of Hope. For the benefit of our wider community, I’d like to have you on staff for two days a week. The other days, you are welcome to use the office to bring in other paid clients from any referrals you receive.”

Lachlan sat straighter. “Sir. I mean, Winston. That’s—just what I’m looking for. Cassie has me on one day a week at Youth Connect, and I have as many shifts as I want from the restaurant. But my heart is for counseling.” He jumped out of his chair and grabbed Winston’s hand in a firm handshake. “I accept your offer. Thank you. This is—fantastic.”

Winston stood, grinned wide, and continued to shake his hand. “Wonderful. Welcome to the team.”

Beth. She was on staff at the centre most of the week. He would be working alongside Beth. This was too good to be true. He let go of Winston’s hand. “Does Beth know about your offer?”

“No.” He smirked. “I’m sure she wouldn’t object.”

“I hope not. So, you trust me enough to work with your team, does that include . . .?” He shifted his weight to one foot.

“Like I said, Beth needs to find her own way.” He raised his palms. “I’m staying out of her love life.” His laugh lines deepened as he dropped his hands. “But, if she asked for my opinion, I would tell her to go for it.”

Lachlan grew an extra two inches. “Well, that’s good to know.” He’d like to say a lot more, or burst into song or something.

Winston stepped aside from his desk. “So, when do you want to start?

BETHANY

Bethany floated around her office, totally distracted now that lunchtime approached. Lachlan was counseling in the next room, then he’d come and take her out to lunch. She placed the manilla folder into the filing cabinet and let out a contented sigh. Life just got sweeter and sweeter.

Her mojo was back. Ideas for transforming Habor Hope into a thriving organization came with ease. Lachlan loved to brainstorm and helped her with the twelve-month strategic plan. The goal included expanding in country towns that had no homeless center.

Her mobile trilled and vibrated on her desk. Hopefully, this wouldn’t be a long call. Lachlan would knock on her door any minute now.

She swiped at the green symbol. “Hello, Bethany speaking.”

“Beth Michaels?” An older man’s voice crackled through the speaker.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“It’s Sergeant Andrews from the Fremantle police.”

Oh. What had she done? Or had someone been hurt? Her throat constricted. “How can I help you?”

“I’m giving you the heads up that the Quokka poisoning case has reopened. We have witnesses against the two directors at Pacific Master Builders.”

Blood in her veins pumped faster. She clutched at her necklace. “Really? Who’s the witness?”

“A young Caucasian male, seventeen, came forward last week. He worked on the island with his uncle who runs the general store. He said US Navy officers questioned his Uncle two years ago. The boy was hiding in the storeroom at the time, but ever since, he’s been having frequent nightmares of submarines and helicopters surrounding the island to come and arrest him.” He chuckled. “Too much Call of Duty gaming, I reckon.” Sergeant Andrews cleared his throat. “His school psychologist encouraged him to come forward with the information. Since he’s a juvenile, he will probably only get a slap on the wrist if he confesses. He’s suffered insomnia, obviously guilt-ridden that he’d assisted the developers in poisoning the Quokkas.”

“He what? How did he do that?”

“The land developers gave the boy pellets resembling a cat biscuit, which housed silicone-like balls full of plastics. They wanted it to look like waste-pollution had killed the Quokkas. He still had samples, and the lab results came back showing the same chemicals found in the carcasses.”

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