Lovewrecked - Karina Halle Page 0,67

gestures behind him. “Got a dinghy on the other side of those palms. Down the beach. Came from over there.” He points far across the lagoon to one of the longer islands. “Noticed the two of you yesterday, looking about.” Nods at me and Daisy. “Heard about your boat. My condolences.”

“How did you know about the boat?” I ask.

“Not much to do out here except count bird eggs and listen to the radio, and the birds ain’t laying right now.”

“Are you a scientist?” Richard asks. A good question, because he doesn’t seem like a scientist.

Fred nods. Puts his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “Yep. Been stationed here for about, well let’s see…three months now.”

“Three months!” Lacey exclaims.

“All alone too,” he says. “Hope you fellas don’t blame me, but when I picked up the transmission that a yacht had wrecked on the reefs, I was grateful for the company. Been by my lonesome an awful long time.”

“Don’t they usually station you with another researcher?” Richard asks.

“They had. Dale was his name. Good guy. Smelled like garlic. But his wife was pregnant, went into labor two months early. He had to go back. Wife and babe are doing fine now, no worries there, but he’s not coming back and they haven’t found a suitable replacement. I’m staying on until the next batch of researchers come over. Should be a few weeks from now, but they’ve been saying that awhile.” He pauses, squints at us. “You guys have any beer?”

“I wish,” Daisy says.

He looks deflated. “Shucks. I could really go for a Rolling Rock about now.”

“Who are you working for?” Lacey asks.

“Nature Conservancy,” he says. “They’re working with the Fijian government to try and study the population of the sulphur-crested myzomela here, after rats were eradicated a few years ago.”

“And where is here?” I ask. “There’s no name on the charts.”

“Here is Plumeria Island. And this whole area,” he gestures wide to the lagoon, “is the Plumeria Atoll.”

“I knew it!” Lacey cries out. We all look at each other. She shrugs. “Well, I knew that the species of plumeria were notable.”

Daisy is shaking her head and I know she’s doubling down on Boner Island in her mind.

“So, what’s this?” I gesture to the barracks.

“Back in the day they were studying all sorts of things. This place was never inhabited, so, aside from rats that escaped from boats, the atoll has a lot to offer in terms of wildlife.”

“Well, how do you explain that?” Daisy says dramatically, pointing at the goat that has come wandering up from behind Fred. The goat stands beside him like a dog.

“You mean Wilson? No idea how he got here. Though he says he’s been here quite some time.” Fred looks down at the goat. The goat looks right back at him.

I frown, worried that perhaps Fred has been in the sun too long. “I’m sorry. You said the goat told you this?”

“Yep,” Fred says, reaching down and patting Wilson on the head. “We get along just fine.”

“What else has the goat told you?” Daisy asks suspiciously.

“Uh, sorry to be direct, Fred,” I say to him, interrupting Daisy (because who knows where that conversation was going), “but is there a way you can put in a rescue call for us? We’re supposed to call the search and rescue back from our satellite phone, but maybe you have better connections, and a better connection.”

“Of course,” he says, though he does look a little disappointed. He gestures behind him. “My dinghy can take two of you over with me. I’ve got a nice bungalow. Flush toilet.”

“Flush toilet!” Daisy exclaims, like she was told he had Oscar Isaac chilling over there or something.

“We would love to see the research you’re doing,” Lacey speaks up, sticking her thumb at Richard. “And help in any way. We’re both botanists at the University of Otago.”

“Are ya now?” Fred says, stroking his mustache. “That is interesting. And most welcome, of course.” He glances at me and Daisy. “You two don’t mind? I can come back for you later.”

“Don’t worry about us,” I tell him. “We’ll be fine.”

Fred, Lacey, and Richard wave, and then disappear behind the coconuts.

Wilson stays where he is.

Staring at us.

“Why did you do that?” Daisy moans dramatically. “Flush toilets, Tai!”

“Relax,” I tell her. “You’d rather hang out with Fred “The Goatman” Ferguson than me?”

“I’d rather use a toilet and actual toilet paper than hang out with you.”

“Fair enough.”

But secretly I’m pleased she has to stay.

Which bodes well for