“Ah, but it’s a no to a phone number.”
Lawson fished his mobile out of his pocket and handed it to me. “If you would be so kind as to add your number as a contact.” I did as he asked and handed it straight back to him. He held it up and hit Call, making my mobile ring on my desk. “You now have my number.”
Just then, the door opened and Karen walked in carrying a takeaway tray with two coffees. “Oh, hello there,” she said cheerfully, as always. She handed me a cup. “For you.”
“Karen, this is Lawson Gale. The Mount Stronach permit is for him. In fact, I’ll be showing him the area today. I’ll be back by five.”
“Okay,” Karen said, sipping her coffee. She looked at Lawson. “Nice to meet you.”
He smiled politely. “Nice to meet you too.”
I grabbed my phone, keys, and a handful of files, and Lawson collected his folder. I stopped at my ute. “Have you got a medical kit?” I asked him.
“Yes, of course.” Lawson opened the rear door in his rented Defender. Inside were eight plastic tubs, some empty, some filled with papers and jars, and a white box with a very discernible medical cross.
I was surprised, to say the least. “Did you have these packed in your suitcase?”
“No. I had them sent ahead.”
“What exactly are you doing out in Stronach? I assume it has something to do with whatever your professor asked to see you about?”
“You would assume correctly.” Lawson held out the car keys. “Are you driving?”
“No. Guide only. That way you’ll be familiar when you drive out by yourself.”
We headed down the Tasman Highway for a while, and at my instruction, we turned off at the rifle range road. After about ten kilometres, the road thinned out and became more of a track. It was bumpy and jarring, but at least the scenery was lovely. Lawson knocked the gears back to second to navigate a steep incline. “Does this billygoat track actually lead anywhere? Or are you taking me to your favourite serial killer spot?”
I laughed at him. “You know, you actually handle a four-wheel drive vehicle pretty good. I’m impressed.”
“No. You’re surprised. Why would you assume I can’t drive?”
“I don’t really know.”
“You thought I was just a lab rat who never takes off his white coat.”
“Do you wear a white coat?” I asked, waggling my eyebrows.
He laughed at that. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Yes, I would. That’s why I asked. I also asked what you were doing out here in the middle of the forest at the instruction of a retired professor, but you didn’t answer that either.” I pointed up ahead to a turn-off, which was more of a track than the track we were on. “The clearing you’re after will be up ahead, about two hundred metres.”
Lawson navigated the Defender easily and pulled up in the clearing. “What Professor Tillman asked me to look for is a specimen of Copper Lycaenidae.”
“I’m going to assume that’s a type of butterfly.”
He cut the engine. “Yes, it is.”
“He called you to come here, all the way from Melbourne, to look for a butterfly?”
“Yes, he did.”
“What’s so special about it?”
Lawson hopped out of the Defender, turned back, and grinned at me. “It doesn’t exist.”
CHAPTER SIX
Lawson
The Tasmanian summer was hot and dry. Not as hot as Melbourne, but still, I hadn’t expected it to be this warm. I opened the back door of the Defender and pulled out one of the plastic tubs. Jack was suddenly beside me. “What do you mean, it doesn’t exist?”
I handed him the tub. “As in, non-existent. Never been documented.”
“How is that possible?” he asked, looking at the tub, then back at me. “I mean, if it doesn’t exist, how can you look for it? How can you even know to look for it?”
I stacked another tub on top of the first one Jack was holding. “Well, you see, Professor Tillman believes they’re here.”
He looked around the woodlands, but the look on his face had sceptical written all over it. “He believes they’re here?”
“Correct.”
I stacked two tubs on top of each other and lifted them out of the Defender and walked out into the clearing. “Boy, it’s warm. I thought Tasmania was supposed to be cold.”
Jack followed me. “It is. Normally. I mean, down south it gets cold, but up here it’s not too bad. We’re in a drought, remember? That generally means dry. Not forgetting the fact it’s summer.”
I stopped walking and looked right at him. “Are you being facetious?”
He grinned. “Facetious is a little harsh. I think roguish is more flattering, possibly with a dash of sarcasm.”
“I’m not a fan of sarcasm.”
“Then why are you smiling?”
“Because I do happen to like roguish.”
We stood facing each other, both holding two tubs each, both smiling. “What’s in the boxes?” he asked eventually.
“My equipment.”
Jack’s lips twitched. “Your equipment? Really?”
I rolled my eyes and put the tubs on the ground. “My field equipment. I have a backpack, notebooks, texts, notes, specimen jars. A GPS, emergency beacon, thermometer, barometer, satellite phone.” Jack’s smile got wider when I listed each item. “What?”
He put the tubs he was holding down next to mine. “I dunno. I don’t know what I was expecting.” He was still smiling but it was as though he was secretly pleased. “You have all the right gear.”
“Well, of course I do.”
“Most academic types come out with no supplies, no tracking equipment, and no clue, if I’m being honest.”
“Did you assume me to be irresponsible?”
Jack seemed to consider his answer before speaking. “Let’s just say I had my concerns, but I’m pleasantly surprised.”
“I spent many vacations and weekends in national parks in and around Melbourne as a child and was taught the importance of safety from the very first. As I grew older, particularly now, I do a lot of field study alone. Like when I was in the middle of the Blue Mountains by myself, I was very aware of my isolation.”
“Do you always do field study by yourself?”
“Mostly.” I shrugged. “I love it. I’m comfortable with my own company enough to spend hours, or days, by myself.”
Jack frowned. “Are you bothered by my being here?”
“Not at all. Though I do have work to do.”
“Right.” He took a step back, fighting a smile. “Then I’ll let you do… whatever it is you do when you look for a butterfly that doesn’t exist.” He took a few more steps backwards, smiling now, before he turned and walked back to the Defender.