“You care, don’t you?”
He frowned.
“You really cared if the baby bird made it. You care whether these orchids survive.”
“Yeah.” Was that considered geeky?
She smiled. “I’m glad the world has people like you in it.” She gestured him to follow her. “Come on. Let’s get that fence set up.”
She couldn’t have given him a nicer compliment. With a lighter step, he returned to his four-wheel drive and Fleur held out her hand. “Give me your keys. I’ll drive it over. The whole track needs grading and some of the jumps are a bit steep and uneven.”
Will hesitated. He wasn’t supposed to let anyone drive his work vehicle.
She raised her eyebrows at him. “I’m a capable driver and you should keep your wrist elevated a little longer.”
Of course she was. He took the keys out of his pocket and tossed them in his hands. His brothers always teased him for abiding by the rules to the letter, but he’d seen how quickly skirting the rules could get someone with his dark skin into trouble. Still, this was her property, she was doing him a favour. He handed her the keys and got into the passenger side, winding down his window. She didn’t say anything and he couldn’t find the words to fill the silence.
He hadn’t stopped thinking about Fleur since he’d met her at the hospital. Something about her, maybe her friendliness, her appearance, her confidence, had stuck with him. He’d imagined a universe in which he actually had the courage to ask her out, a universe where she would say yes.
In his dreams.
“This is the fire break.” She drove onto a sandy path which ran along the fence line of the property. “It will be easier to access your orchids from here.”
“Thanks.” He should ask her something about the club, anything to get her to talk. The warm breeze blowing through the window was nice but talking about the weather was lame. Suddenly he caught a whiff of something sharp, acrid. “What’s that smell?”
Fleur’s incredulous glance had him stammering. “No, I mean — stop the car. I can smell chemicals.”
Fleur braked and he got out, sniffing the air.
Nothing.
But he hadn’t imagined it.
He walked back the way they’d come and yeah, a definite sharp, acrid smell came from the bush between the fire break and the track. “What’s through there?”
“Nothing.” Fleur walked over and screwed up her nose.
“I don’t believe you.” He strode into the bush, following his nose, but being careful where he trod in case there were other rare plants around. As he walked around the shrubs blocking his view from the fire break he swore.
A dozen or more five-litre clear plastic chemical tubs had been dumped haphazardly in a depression in the ground. The labels identified drain cleaner, caustic soda and brake fluid and a couple of the lids had come off and the remains of their contents were draining into the soil, killing the grass around it. Anger welled up in him. How could people treat the land like this? It was bad enough that there were climate change deniers, but if people didn’t even care on a local level, how the hell could they fix the world?
He spun around to Fleur, his eyes narrowed. “You call this nothing?”
Fleur stepped back at the fury in Will’s dark eyes. She peered around him to see what he was so worked up about and her mouth dropped open.
Son of a bitch. Someone had used the track as a dumping ground.
“You might own this land, but that doesn’t give you the right to use it as a rubbish tip.” He was so animated, so angry. “The chemicals can seep through the ground, they could kill those orchids.”
Fleur gaped at him for a moment while her brain caught up. “You think I had something to do with this?” What a jerk. She met his anger with some of her own. “I have enough trouble maintaining the track without having to deal with some idiot doing this. If it’s one of the members, I’ll ban them from the club.” The rubbish tip was only a couple of kilometres further down the road. She took two steps down the incline to gather up the containers and Will grabbed her arm.
“Wait.”
She shook him off. He didn’t get to touch her. “They’re leaking into the ground.”
He took a deep breath. “If it wasn’t you, we have to call Sergeant Zanetti.”
“Lincoln? Why? It’s just some dickhead who didn’t want to pay the extra tip payment.” She was mad, but she didn’t need to go to the police about it. They hadn’t been able to stop people breaking into the track to ride, so they wouldn’t be able to stop this either. She’d just have to deal with it.
Will shook his head. “I’ve seen containers like this before.”
Suddenly she remembered the chemical containers Mai had found a month back. She’d mentioned Parks and Wildlife had been called and it had been drug related. Her eyes widened. “Like by the river?”
“Yeah.”
Fleur got out her phone, took a photo of the mess, and then called Lincoln.
“What can I do for you, Flower?”
His use of her nickname soothed some of her anger. “Someone’s dumped rubbish at the back of the track. Will said to call you.”
“What kind of rubbish?” he snapped.
Talk about instant reaction. “Chemical containers — drain cleaner, brake fluid, caustic soda and a whole bunch of matchboxes.”
Lincoln swore, loud and ripe. “Don’t touch anything. I’ll be there shortly.”
This was serious. Fleur hung up. “He’s on his way.”
Will scowled at the scene, and shuffled his feet, not acknowledging her. She doubted she’d get an apology. His khaki uniform might mould to his dark skin, defining his broad chest, and perhaps he’d been kind of cute when he’d stuttered, but good looks definitely weren’t everything.
“Why don’t you go set up your fence and I’ll walk back and wait for Lincoln?”
A nod. He turned to go, stopped and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry.” He grunted and walked away.
Talk about a split personality. She couldn’t work him out, seemingly shy one minute and angry and cold the next. She scanned the area. The rubbish could have been there for months because the track was used infrequently during the summer. The depression was far enough away from the track that no one would see the bottom if they were on a bike anyway.
Walking back towards the fire break, she scanned the boundary fence. No signs of it having been cut, but that was no surprise. It was easy enough to drive through the unlocked front gates.
Could the same creepy guy who had threatened Mai last month be responsible for discarding the waste? Lincoln had said he was a guy for hire and he’d had a gun he wasn’t afraid to use.
The bush next to her rustled and she whirled around. A blue wren, its bright blue plumage contrasting against the olive-green leaves.
All these thoughts of drugs and thugs were getting to her.
With a sigh, she headed back to the clubhouse.
It was a good half an hour before Lincoln arrived with Senior Constable Ryan Kilpatrick. Fleur had loaded her bike onto the trailer and filled the clubhouse fridge with drinks for the busy bee on the weekend.
“Where are they?” Lincoln asked as he got out of the police car.
“Nice to see you too, Slinky.” She smiled. “Hi Ryan. How are Felix and Hannah?”
“They’re great. Hannah’s talking about doing a musketeers’ night sometime soon.”
Fleur beamed. “That would be great.” She hadn’t seen her best friends much lately, particularly since Hannah and Mai had found the loves of their lives. She walked over to the police car. “We might as well drive. This thing should handle the sand around the fire break.” She hopped into the back seat. “It’s towards the back hill.”
Lincoln drove onto the track. “Did you say Will Travers told you to call?”
“Yeah. He discovered an endangered population of orchids near the track, and we were driving out to set up a fence for them when he smelled
the chemicals.”
“Lucky he was here. You didn’t disturb anything, did you?” Lincoln asked.
“No. Stop here.” She led them to the hollow and Lincoln swore.
“I’ll call Albany.” He took his phone out as Ryan snapped some photos.
Will had been right — it was serious.
When Lincoln was done he said, “Detectives are on the way and when they’re finished, this will need to be professionally removed. I want to keep this discovery quiet. You can’t tell anyone what you found here.”
It was all very hush-hush. “What if it’s a member and not related to drugs?”
“Who said anything about drugs?”
“Will did.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not stupid, Slinky. You wouldn’t call Albany if this was a case of littering.”
“I can’t tell you anything,” he said.
“Fine. If you want to keep it secret, you’ll need to clean it up by the weekend. It’s the busy bee and there will be people all around the track.”
“Damn it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Can you postpone it?”
She laughed. “Not a chance. You know what everyone’s like.”
“All right.” He sighed. “I’m going to need to ask you and Will some questions.”
“Sure. Go ahead.”
When she’d finished answering Lincoln and Ryan’s questions, she went to check the fence Will had erected around his precious orchids. The hessian was attached to big star pickets and the fence was bigger than she’d anticipated, but she wouldn’t make a fuss.
Will was at the end of the block searching for more specimens. She almost hoped he didn’t find any. Then she wouldn’t need to deal with his demands again.
Whether she wanted to or not, she needed to talk to him, tell him to shut the gates if he was the last to leave. She was done here and had to get to work.
She strode down the fire break, so she didn’t get told off for potentially squashing any plants. He didn’t so much as glance up as she approached.
“Will.”
He whirled around, eyes wide.
Either his hearing sucked, or he was really focused on what he was doing. “I’m heading off,” she said. “If you’re last to leave, can you shut the front gates?”
“Does it need locking?”
“No point. People cut the chains if they really want to get in. Just slide the bolt shut.” She turned to go.
“The fence is all right?”
“It’s fine. I’ll get some old tyres delivered later this week and build a wall in front of it over the weekend.”
“I can help, if you’d like.”
She raised her eyebrows. He wanted to be helpful?
He shifted his gaze to his toes. “I appreciate you letting me do this.”
Did he think she was completely lacking in empathy? “I won’t be responsible for the extinction of a species.” While she was perfectly capable of building the wall, it would be one less thing on her mountainous to do list. “All right. I’ll be out here from eight on Saturday and Sunday. Drop by whenever suits.”
“Can I have your number?” The words were said in a rush. “Ah, in case something comes up.”
“Sure.” She rattled it off and he fumbled with his phone, almost dropping it before he managed to key it in.
“Thanks.”
She nodded and walked away.
She gave him two days before he’d send her a text rescinding his offer to help.
But she could do it without him.
Buy Nothing to Hide
Acknowledgements
A big thank you to the people who helped me research this book. First of all to Matt Hartfield who continues to help me with all the policing details. Any mistakes are my own and for the good of the story. Also to Ted and Gary who gave me information about the volunteer bush fire brigade and the volunteer fire and emergency services. Your help was invaluable.
As always I also need to thank those people who helped me get this book into print: thanks to Lana Pecherczyk for the awesome cover, Ann Harth for her structural edits, Teena Raffa-Mulligan for her copy-edits and the Blurb Bitch, Carol Eastman for the blurb.
Also By Claire Boston
This is a complete list at the time of publication, but if you want to keep up-to-date with Claire’s new releases, make sure you subscribe to her reader group.
The Texan Quartet
What Goes on Tour
All that Sparkles
Under the Covers
Into the Fire
The Flanagan Sisters
Break the Rules
Change of Heart
Blaze a Trail
Place to Belong
The Blackbridge Series
Nothing to Fear
Nothing to Gain
Nothing to Hide
Nothing to Lose
The Beginner Writer’s Toolkit
Self-Editing
About the Author
Claire Boston is a contemporary romance author who enjoys exploring real life issues on her way to the happily-ever-after. She writes heart-warming stories, with resilient heroines and heroes you’ll love. In 2014 she was nominated for an Australian Romance Readers Award for Favourite New Romance Author.
When Claire’s not writing she can be found creating her own handmade journals, swinging on a sidecar, or in the garden attempting to grow something other than weeds.
Claire lives in Western Australia with her husband, who loves even her most annoying quirks, and her grubby, but adorable Australian bulldog.
Claire loves to hear from her readers. You can find her at her website, www.claireboston.com, on Twitter, @clairebauthor, and on Facebook.
You can also join her reader group at http://www.claireboston.com/reader-group.
First published by Bantilly Publishing in 2018
Copyright © Claire Boston 2018
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copied, stored, distributed or otherwise made available by any person or entity, in any form (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise) without prior written permission from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Nothing to Gain: The Blackbridge Series
EPUB format: 978-1-925696-17-2
Mobi format: 978-1-925696-18-9
Print: 978-1-925696-19-6
Cover design by Lana Pecherczyk
Edited by Ann Harth
Proofread by Teena Raffa-Mulligan
Nothing to Gain Page 27
