She walked away feeling lighter than she had in days.
It would be nice to spend some time with her oldest brother.
Chapter 9
The next week flew by, and Georgie had little time to obsess over Matt while training her replacement. On her day off, she’d dived on the shipwreck she’d found. The proper authorities had been notified and someone had come up from Perth to catalogue the details, but they couldn’t get a team out to review it until later in the year.
Not that she touched it, knowing the archaeologists would want to document everything as it was, but she found evidence of human interaction. Large areas of broken coral and patches of sand where someone had removed something. The damage appeared to be recent.
Stonefish.
She’d avoided heading out to the Ridge, still not in the right frame of mind to see Matt, but she caught up with Ed and Tess before they headed back to Perth.
Finally, her first day at Parks and Wildlife arrived. She exhaled, her breath shaky, and nerves shimmering in her belly, as she pulled into the car park. She could do this. She knew a lot of her new colleagues already. But still it was different from what she was used to, and she’d be largely working on her own.
“Hey, Georgie, good to see you.” Her new boss, Declan shook her hand and smiled widely. “Great to have you on board.”
Georgie relaxed. “I’m glad to be here.”
“We’ve got you starting at a civilised time today because we don’t want to scare you off,” he continued, leading her into a meeting room.
Another woman, maybe in her early thirties, was in the room, someone Georgie didn’t recognise, so not a local. She would have noticed her rich red hair, almost the colour of the sand outside. Currently it was tied back in a braid with wisps of curls peeking out from the hairline. The woman’s smile was perfunctory, so Georgie gave her biggest smile back.
“Georgie Stokes, this is Penelope Fraser. She’s starting in the ocean-based role.” Declan turned to Penelope. “Georgie’s new too.”
This was the woman who’d beaten her to the role she so desperately wanted. Georgie’s smile faded as she took a seat.
“Our area of responsibility runs from Red Bluff in Carnarvon all the way to a few nautical miles north of here,” Declan began. “We do eight-hour days ranging from six to six depending on what’s going on. Georgie, you’ll deal a lot with the campgrounds; maintenance, cleaning, making sure the hosts have what they need. Penelope, you’ll monitor the whale shark tour businesses and fishing in the area. You’ll both need fire training and advanced first aid which I’ve organised for later in the month.”
Georgie took notes as he continued his induction.
“I’m taking Penelope out on the boat today to familiarise her with everything,” Declan continued. “We don’t have anyone spare to show you around, Georgie, but since you’re familiar with the area, I figure you won’t have any trouble.”
“Sure,” Georgie said with more confidence than she felt. Talk about being thrown in the deep end.
Outside the room, the radio came to life with people calling in updates.
“They’re the campground hosts,” Declan said. “They check in at this time every day so we can make sure everything’s all right. If they need anything, I’ll get you to take it out.”
There were myriad small, off-grid camp sites along the coast for which PAWS was responsible. Radios were the only way of contacting the town because reception was spotty out there.
It took Declan another hour to cover everything with Georgie and Penelope. “The only other thing you need to keep an eye out for is evidence of animal smuggling.” He showed them photos of reptiles bound with duct tape around their bodies and mouths, and some round holes in the ground containing animals. “The smugglers are active in the area at the moment. If you see anything off, call it in.”
Georgie stared at the photos, her stomach swirling. Some of the animals were stuffed in socks or hollowed out books. Many of them were dead. “That’s horrific.”
Declan nodded. “They fetch a high price on the international market from collectors. A large number of the animals die in transit so they send in bulk hoping some will still be alive when they reach their destination.”
She wanted to be sick. They didn’t deserve to be treated like that. “Do we call the police if we find evidence?”
“Normally we have a Wildlife Officer who takes care of it, but we’re advertising to fill the position at the moment. The police are helping us out. They know who the usuals are, because punishment is often only a slap on the wrist and community service. Most of the smugglers aren’t dangerous but call it in before you approach anyone.”
“Will do.”
“That’s not good enough,” Penelope said, her posture stiffening.
Georgie blinked. “What isn’t?”
“The punishment. They’re torturing those animals.”
