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CHAPTER 1
Indiana
Standing on the bow of my salvage boat Rhino, I peered through my binoculars, searching the turquoise ocean around me for any nosy bastards. I was a long way from my North Queensland shoreline, and that alone drew attention. Rhino did, too. My boat was big and ugly, but she served her purpose.
The horizon was clear of boats, and I didn’t have to worry about anyone on Kangaroo Island in the distance watching me. The decrepit luxury resort on the private island had been abandoned in the 1980s, and plants and wildlife have been taking over ever since. Other than a movie crew who attempted to film there a few years ago, as far as I was aware, no one even set foot on the overgrown island.
Despite today’s lack of breeze and perfect weather conditions, waves crashed over my destination, Pineapple Reef, with brutal repetition. Three ships had been documented as coming to a tragic end after trying to navigate this treacherous stretch of ocean. I knew this area like I knew the jagged scars across my thigh, and I believed there were many more wrecks scattered across this reef that were yet to be discovered.
I strode to the covered outdoor lounge area I called ‘the hut’ and lifted the comms handset. “Dad! Wake up. We’re nearly there.”
Turning on the kettle, I pulled Dad’s favorite, brown-stained coffee mug from the dish drainer on the sink and added two heaped spoons of Nescafe Blend 43 instant coffee and three sugars. I’d already had two of Dad’s morning heart starters, but the caffeine was yet to kick in.
I throttled back Rhino, and she rode the wave that crashed into her bow like a pregnant elephant. My boat was a clunky beast, designed for hauling up wrecks, not riding waves. Although my salvage equipment was old and rusty, most of it still did its job. The main engine, however, was fifty years old, and I spent half my time trying to keep the damn thing working.
“Dad! Answer me,” I yelled into the comms. Not that it would help. Dad could sleep through an engine blowout, which he’d done twice. Given how drunk he had been last night when I dragged him away from Lucky’s Tavern, he would probably sleep all day. I shouldn’t have let him stay out till midnight, but he rarely ventured off my boat, and I thought it would be good for him to get some other company, rather than just me, his only child, and only living relative.
And, sadly, his only friend.
“Dad, don’t make me come get you.” My threats were pointless. He never woke up this early. Dad was an alcoholic. The last time I’d seen him sober was before my mom was murdered, and nothing I said or did would keep him on the wagon.
Then again, given his guilt over what happened to Mom, maybe oblivion from a bottle was the best option for him.
I dropped one anchor, and as it splashed into the water two hundred yards off Kangaroo Island, I strode toward the open hatch. Rhino pitched and rolled with the mild swell, and I gripped the rusty railing as I climbed down the ladder to the lower deck.
Rhino had weathered a lot of storms over the decades, and they’d taken their toll. My boat was coming to the end of her career. I didn’t even want to think about that. Salvaging was my life, yet I didn’t have much to show for all my hard work other than a rusty old boat, interesting memories that were not all good, and a few nasty scars.
“Dad!” I hollered down the narrow passage. “Get your ass up.”
I’d seen Dad in his boxer shorts way too many times for my liking. Today would be another.
I banged on his door. “Oy. You awake?”
My boat groaned as if protesting my yelling.
I pulled down the handle and stepped into Dad’s tiny cabin. He was on his back, his mouth wide open and his eyes shut.
“Dad!” I marched to the bed and shook his shoulder. “Get up. I need your help.”
Smacking his flaky lips together, he groaned. “Go away.”
I shook him again. “No can do. I told you we had to do this today. Not my fault you drank yourself stupid last night.” I slapped his hairy chest. “Now get up. I’ve thrown anchor, and I need to be in the water in ten minutes.”
He gave me the side eye.
“Ten minutes.” I flared my hands, showing ten fingers. “Got it?”
“Dammit, woman, you’re bossy!”
I chuckled as I turned toward the door. “Someone needs to get you up every day. And today is payday, remember.”
He released a noise like he had an eel in his throat.
I stepped back into the passageway. “I have coffee ready for you up top. Nine minutes, Dad!”
“Give me strength.”
I didn’t care if Dad was nursing a monumental hangover, the window of opportunity to scuba dive at Pineapple Reef did not come around often.
