Buch lesen: «Danger at the Border»

ONE

“Thank you, Randy.” Biologist Dr. Tessa Cleary smiled at the young ranger sitting in the driver’s seat of the Forest Service truck.

“Sure thing, Doc.” He saluted her with a grin crinkling his tanned face.

Randy had picked her up from the airport in Bellingham, Washington, and driven her on the long, windy road to the ranger station at Glen Lake in the North Cascades National Forest. At least five years younger than her twenty-eight years, Randy had kept up a running dialogue on the lake and the human inhabitants who made the forest their home. He obviously knew the area well.

Tessa had been content to listen but was glad to reach her destination and escape the confines of the truck cab. The smell of tobacco coming off the young ranger had been overpowering, even with the window down. A little queasy, she climbed from the vehicle and stretched. However, the agitated churning of her tummy wasn’t due to motion sickness, but from the recent reports of fish kills and the outburst of breathing problems swimmers in Glen Lake had been experiencing.

Shielding her eyes against the late-summer sun, she surveyed her surroundings and filled her lungs with the sweet scent of fresh mountain air. Tall conifers dominated the forest, but she detected many deciduous trees surrounding the sparkling shores of the reservoir lake, as well.

A hidden paradise. One to be enjoyed by those willing to venture to the middle of the Pacific Northwest.

The lake should be filled with boats and swimmers, laughing children, fishing poles and water skis.

But all was still.

Silent.

The seemingly benign water was filled with something toxic harming both the wildlife and humans.

Her office had received a distressing call yesterday that dead trout had washed ashore on the lake, and recreational swimmers were presenting with respiratory distress after swimming in the lake.

As a field biologist for the USDA Forest Service’s Fish and Aquatic Ecology Unit, her job was to determine what exactly that something was as quickly as possible and stop it.

She’d convinced her boss she couldn’t wait for a team to be assembled. She needed to get to Glen Lake ASAP. The team would follow but not for another forty-eight hours. She’d hopped on the next available flight from Logan, Utah, to the state of Washington to assess the reports of contamination in the water.

A wet, hot tongue licked her hand. Startled, she jerked back. A large Rottweiler stared up at her.

“Ooh, aren’t you a beauty?” she cooed and scratched the dog behind the ear.

“Here she is!” A booming voice full of anticipation rang out. The dog trotted away, apparently losing interest in her as she turned her attention to the ranger station.

The building, like many she’d visited around the country, had a peaked roofline to keep winter elements from accumulating, and natural wood and material painted in earthy tones to help the structure blend in with the environment.

A mixed group of civilians and uniformed personnel gathered on the wide wooden porch.

She recognized the park ranger by his tan uniform. She figured the man in the dark brown uniform with the gold-star badge was the Okanagan County sheriff.

All eyes were trained on her. All except one man’s.

Tall with dark hair, he stood in profile talking to the sheriff. Too many people blocked him from full view for her to see an agency logo on his forest-green uniform. Probably from EPA. She’d worked with agents from the Environmental Protection Agency on other cases, though she thought their uniforms were dark colored. Either way, she hoped this didn’t turn into a power struggle.

The ranger, a lanky man in his sixties, and a woman of the same age dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt broke away from the crowd to hurry down the stairs toward her.

Tessa forced a composed smile, though inside she was anxious to get going. The longer they waited, the more damage to the lake and its inhabitants there would be, but she knew in situations like this it was best to appear confident and calm. Showing any sign of concern would create panic.

She didn’t want anyone to freak out. At least, not until she knew what they were dealing with. There could be any number of reasons for the fish kills—the most common causes were oxygen depletion, algae, disease or pollution.

Only the last two could explain the swimmers’ breathing issues.

The ranger approached with his hand out. “You must be Dr. Cleary. I’m Ranger George Harris, and this is my wife, Ellen. Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“I got here as soon as I could,” she said, shaking each of their outstretched hands.

“I did as you asked,” George said. “All boating activity and swimming in the lake has ceased. The sheriff has officers stationed at the docks to make sure no one takes any watercrafts out.”

“Good,” she said. “It would be best for everyone to stay out of the lake until we know what’s going on.”

“You’re going to find the cause?” An older man stalked forward, the Rottweiler at his heels. His bushy eyebrows lowered over dark eyes. “You’re just a scrawny lady. What can you possibly do?” He threw his hands in the air. “We’re doomed.”

Not letting his words affect her took effort. This wasn’t the first time she’d been dismissed before being given a chance. She’d hoped her career would be the one place where she’d be accepted for who she was. Unfortunately, that was a fight she constantly found herself battling.

But at least she had knowledge and expertise to back her up. “Sir, I assure you I know what I’m doing. I will get to the bottom of what’s going on.”

The old man harrumphed.

Ellen stepped forward and placed a hand on the old man’s arm. “Henry, enough with the dramatics.” She turned to Tessa. “As you can probably understand, folks around here are pretty upset. The resort at the southern tip of the lake has people bailing on their reservations right and left. The other small communities along the shoreline are suffering, as well.”

“Without the tourist trade, my business will die. I’ll have to sell.” Henry’s fists tightened at his sides. “Where am I going to go? Huh?”

Ellen patted his arm. “It won’t come to that.”

Tessa turned her attention to Ranger Harris. “Do you have any idea where the contamination is originating?”

He shook his head. “We haven’t come across the source. At least not on our side of the lake. I’m not sure what’s happening across the border.” George ran a hand through his graying hair as his gaze strayed to the lake. “Whatever this is, it isn’t coming from our side.”

“Let’s not go casting aspersions on our friends to the north until we know more. Okay, George?”

The deep baritone voice came from Tessa’s right. She turned to find herself confronted by a set of midnight-blue eyes filled with curiosity.

She blinked at the attractive man towering over her. Answering curiosity rose within her. Who was he? And why was he here? She couldn’t drag her gaze away from his face to check his uniform.

His gaze slid the length of her, burning a trail over her plaid shirt, jeans and work boots, and back to her eyes. She drew herself up to her full height, though she only managed to reach his shoulders, refusing to squirm beneath his perusal.

However, she was glad she’d corralled her wild curls with a clip and had applied some lip gloss when her plane landed.

She mentally scoffed. Not that she cared a whit what this man thought of her. Doing her job wasn’t dependent on meeting his approval.

His well-formed lips curved upward slightly, sending a shiver gallivanting across her flesh. But she held his gaze, unwilling to let him think he could intimidate or embarrass her, despite the heat creeping up her neck.

George cleared his throat. “Dr. Cleary, this is Agent Steele with the U.S. Customs and Border Protection service.”

Ah. That explained his presence. Finally able to tear her gaze from his, she noted his gold badge with the unmistakable bald eagle perched at the top with its wings spread as if in flight. Considering the lake crossed the international border separating the U.S. and Canada, she wasn’t surprised that a Border Patrol agent had been called.

Since 9/11, the U.S. and Canadian governments had upped the amount of personnel and security measures along its shared boundary. The forestland on both sides of the line, though rugged terrain, had seen its share of attempted illegal crossings.

“Jeff,” Agent Steele said, holding out his hand.

She hesitated a fraction before slipping her hand into his. “Tessa.”

His big, warm palm pressed against hers like a shock pad, sending waves of sensation up her arm.

She extracted her hand quickly and curled her fingers to disperse the disturbing reaction. Basic biology at work here. Nothing more. Just because the guy looked as if he belonged on a billboard ad rather than out in the middle of a forest didn’t mean she had to get all goofy about him. She wasn’t in the market for a romance. The last time she’d allowed the rush of attraction to rule, she’d ended up busted to pieces when the relationship took a nosedive like the pH level in an aquarium when exposed to too much CO2.

The gleam in his eyes made her think he’d noticed her reaction to him. She resisted the urge to put her hand to her warm cheeks. No sense in confirming her initial attraction.

“I look forward to working with you.”

His smooth-as-silk voice wrapped around her. It took a moment for his words to process. “Working with me?”

She couldn’t imagine what he could do to help her or the work she did. He’d only be a nuisance. A distraction she didn’t want.

Instead of answering, he gestured to the man beside him. “This is Sheriff Larkin.”

Tessa jerked her gaze from the too-handsome Agent Steele to acknowledge the sheriff with a handshake. “Sheriff.”

“We’re counting on you to deal with this,” the sheriff said.

“Have there been any fires in the area recently? The contamination could be chemicals used in firefighting that seeped into the soil or into the water.”

Sheriff Larkin shook his head. “No. Not for a couple of years.”

So much for that theory. “I’ll need to test samples of the water and the soil along the lakeshore on both sides.”

“I’ll have a boat ready to take you wherever you need to go,” Ranger Harris promised.

“You have the fish samples?” She’d asked that they collect as many different samples as possible from various points along the lakeshore. That way she would have a better chance of figuring out if the contamination was widespread or localized to a specific section.

“Yes. I have at least two dozen waiting for you.”

Anxiety spurted through her. She was careful to keep her voice even. “Two dozen dead fish?”

“Yes, ma’am,” George stated. “From up and down both sides of the lake all the way to the borderline. Each is labeled where on the lake it came from, like you’d asked.”

Her stomach sank. So much for hoping the contaminant was limited and hadn’t had a chance to cover too large a portion of the lake or to settle in the sediment. With that many dead trout turning up, the toxin had spread.

She looked at Agent Steele—Jeff. “You’ll need to alert the Canadian authorities that the lake is contaminated.”

Agent Steele exchanged a glance with the sheriff. “We’ve communicated to the Canadians that there is an issue with the lake water. They are taking appropriate precautions.”

“Could an oil or gasoline spill cause the fish to die?” Ellen asked.

“And swimmers to get sick?” George added.

Tessa shifted her gaze to the older couple. “Has anyone reported a spill?”

George shook his head.

“I doubt a tourist would report an accident like that. Too eager to save their own bacon than protect the water,” Henry shot out.

“What happens if it is a spill?” Ellen asked.

“We’d skim the spill from the surface by using a boom or skimmer device that sucks up the contaminant.” Cleaning up even a small portion of the lake wouldn’t be an easy task, but it would be doable.

Jeff’s intense gaze held hers. “And if it’s not oil or gas? How do we clean it up?”

“If the pollutant has settled into the sediment, then dredging will be necessary.”

“How long will that take?” George asked.

Looking at the lake, she said, “I don’t have a definitive answer.”

“Your best guess?” the sheriff interjected.

“I don’t make guesses,” she said.

“Try,” Jeff prodded.

The weight of his stare pried the words from her. “Considering the size and depth of the lake, maybe a week or two. Maybe more.”

George groaned.

“Summer’s not over yet. We still have several weeks of good weather. We can’t afford to lose the tourism,” Ellen said, distress ringing in her tone.

“See, I told you, we’re doomed!” Henry interjected in a loud roar.

Tessa held up a hand. “I won’t know what to do or what we’re dealing with until I locate the toxin and assess the damage.”

“What do we do first?” Jeff asked, his intense gaze drilling into her.

“We don’t do anything.” Tessa hoped he understood where the boundary line lay. She didn’t need him getting in her way. She turned to Ranger Harris. “I need to examine the fish.”

* * *

Jeff tapped his foot against the linoleum floor of the Glen Lake ranger station as he talked on his cell phone. He stood in the hallway outside the room where the “fish doctor” was doing her thing. Overhead, the fluorescent lights hummed, loud enough to make it difficult to hear the man speaking on the other end of the phone. Jeff’s blood pressure ratcheted skyward. The summer heat invaded the rangers’ break room, making him sweat. He tugged at the collar of his uniform shirt.

“We can’t let this turn into an international disaster.” Deputy Director Darrin Moore’s deep voice held an intense tone that never failed to make Jeff think of his father in lecture mode. But for some reason, Jeff accepted his boss’s instruction better than his father’s. “Contain the situation, Agent Steele. Determine if this is an accident or an attack.”

Jeff detected the note of concern underlying Moore’s words. “Are you suggesting this could be an act of terrorism?”

“I’m erring on the side of caution.” The deputy director was as buttoned-down as they came. All of the men and women Jeff had met from Homeland Security headquarters were the epitome of professional.

Protecting the great nation of the United States was serious business.

And tough. For all Homeland Security and Border Patrol agents.

The nation’s security was more than a job. At least to Jeff.

Stationed at the port of entry in Blaine, Washington, Jeff worked to keep the northern border between the U.S. and Canada safe from threats against the American and Canadian people. He’d been honored when his boss tagged him to be a part of the IBETS—Integrated Border Enforcement Teams, a binational task force working to enhance border integrity and security along the shared U.S./Canada line.

The deputy director had told him yesterday to hustle to Glen Lake. Jeff had complied without hesitation. When he’d arrived at the Glen Lake ranger station a few hours ago, he’d found frightened people wanting answers.

He prayed the woman in the next room would provide them.

“Dr. Cleary’s dissecting the dead fish as we speak,” Jeff explained to Deputy Director Moore. “We’ll have answers shortly.”

At least Jeff hoped so. Tessa seemed like the type of person who worked methodically and efficiently. She’d certainly turned out to be a surprise.

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected. Someone older, earthier, less curvy.

Instead, Tessa Cleary, with her striking auburn hair, liquid-amber-colored eyes and smattering of freckles crossing the bridge of her pert nose, was trouble with a capital T. He knew her type. He’d dated his fair share of them.

Smart—the woman was a Ph.D.—bossy and demanding. High maintenance.

He could almost hear the sputtering that would happen when Tessa saw the accommodations. The cabins on the edge of the lake used for the Forest Service were barely a step up from a tent.

He’d hazard a guess the doctor’s idea of roughing it was not having reservations.

Hmm. Okay, they could have that in common. He didn’t particularly like sleeping on the ground or a saggy cot but certainly would if needed.

He’d noticed there was no gold band or tan line suggesting a ring recently had graced her slender hand. Not that her marital status was any of his business. He didn’t do commitment because commitment equaled heartache, a state of being he’d rather not experience again.

“Call once you have the doctor’s findings,” Moore said before hanging up.

Jeff walked into the makeshift autopsy room.

The aroma of vanilla from lit candles underscored the decaying-fish stink.

Stopping in the doorway, he watched Tessa. Her hands were steady, quick and efficient as she sliced and diced. She’d already worked her way through one tray and had started on another.

She placed a sample on the slide for the microscope and moved forward to peer into the eyepiece. Her red hair stuck out the back of the hairnet, the tarnished strands vibrant against her green tartan-patterned shirt. With appreciation, his gaze lingered over her trim waist, nice curves and long, lean legs.

She straightened and made some notes on the pad of paper at her side. She froze and then whipped around to stare at him.

“How long have you been standing there?” Her voice vibrated with indignation.

“A few seconds.” He stepped fully into the room. “Did you figure out what killed the fish?” Anticipation knotted his gut.

“Yes and no.” She stripped off her rubber gloves and tossed them in a wastebasket. “It wasn’t a spill of oil or gasoline.”

Dread tightened the muscles in his shoulders. “So then, what? Natural causes?” He could only hope.

She slanted him a sharp glance. “Hardly. The damage done to these poor fish is indicative of a chemical agent.”

Jeff’s stomach dropped. “What sort of chemical?”

“I won’t know until I send tissue, water and soil samples out for analysis.”

“How long will that take?”

“If the lab can rush, I should have the findings by the end of the week.”

Running his palm over his jaw, Jeff said, “Any chance a chemical could have accidentally polluted the water?”

She undid her hairnet, letting her auburn tresses fall around her shoulders. His gaze was drawn to the burnished curls.

“I need to find the source, then I’ll know,” she said,

He dragged his gaze from her pretty hair and met her gaze. “George has a boat ready for us.”

Her copper-colored eyebrows rose. “You are not accompanying me.”

“But I am.” He didn’t wait for her to argue. He cupped her elbow to propel her toward the door. “My job is to protect this country. I need your help to do it.”

“Wait! My bag!” She jerked out of his grasp and hurriedly packed up her equipment.

“I’ll get it.” He reached for the strap. She sidestepped him and marched out the door.

Shaking his head at her stubbornness, he sent up a silent prayer that God would help them work together, as well. Because if the chemical that had invaded Glen Lake was an act of terror, then they would have more to deal with than pride. Both countries would be at risk and lives at stake.

* * *

By the time Tessa reached the dock, her shoulder ached from the weight of her duffel bag. She hadn’t realized how heavy the thing was. Regret for not allowing Jeff to take the bag when he’d offered intensified her tension. She didn’t like needing help.

She’d decided long ago that relying on others for anything only led to disappointment, because no matter what she did or how hard she worked to please people, she never measured up. Therefore, if she didn’t care what others thought and relied only on herself, her heart was safe. She was safe.

Resolute in that thought, she dropped the duffel holding her supplies on the wooden planks at her feet with a thunk and rolled her shoulders. She caught Jeff’s gaze from the boat. Speculation lurked in the cobalt depths of his eyes.

She jerked her gaze away and stared into the water, focusing on what was at stake. The forest, the lake and the fish. Human lives.

“She’s a beauty.”

Jeff’s words jerked Tessa’s attention to the motorboat bobbing gently against the side of the dock. George stood inside the boat, showing Jeff around the helm.

She spied a Zodiac, an inflatable boat with an aluminum floor, lying upside down on the shore. Two black oars stuck straight up out of the sand beside it. She pointed. “That’s what we’re taking.”

Jeff followed the trajectory of her finger. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Don’t think you can handle it?” She picked up her bag. Maybe he’d relent and not insist on going with her. She preferred working alone.

His lips thinned. “I can handle it.” He climbed out of the motorboat and stalked down the dock.

She turned to George. “Do you have another set of oars?”

Amusement twinkled in his brown eyes. “Yes, ma’am.” George handed her a map of the lake. Then he unclipped a walkie-talkie from his belt and held it out. “There’s no cell service on the north end. Use this if you run into any trouble.”

“Thanks.” She slipped the walkie-talkie into the outside pocket of her bag.

Once they had the inflatable boat flipped and half in, half out of the water, Tessa tossed her duffel inside. It landed with a dull thud.

“What’s in that bag?” Jeff asked as he climbed inside the boat and settled on the back transom.

“My testing kit and ten essentials. Everything needed to survive for a short time in the wilderness.”

“We won’t be getting out of the boat,” Jeff muttered as he took an oar in each hand.

“You never know what you’ll need.” She threw one leg over the side, then the other, careful to keep the boat balanced by planting her feet wide. Then she sat on the middle bench seat facing Jeff. Tucking the second set of oars George handed her beneath the bench along with her bag, she shrugged. “I like to be ready for anything. You never know when disaster will strike.”

One side of Jeff’s mouth lifted. “You sound like an ad for FEMA.”

She arched an eyebrow. “I attended the Center for Domestic Preparedness training.”

His mouth quirked. “Me, too. Though it must have been at a different time. I’d have remembered you.”

She rolled her eyes, not believing she would have garnered his attention at all then or now if it wasn’t for this situation.

He cocked his head. “Hmm, maybe I should grab a few things.”

The teasing tone in his voice grated on her nerves. “You should. I’ll wait.”

He blinked. “That’s okay. We’ll be back here by dinnertime. I ate a big lunch.”

She shrugged. So had she. George had brought her a sandwich piled high with ham and cheese, a side of fruit and a soda. But she liked to snack throughout the day. “Suit yourself.”

She pulled on a pair of silicone gloves and grabbed two test tubes and a plastic baggie from her bag, then leaned over the side of the boat to fill two tubes with water. The boat height was perfect. She then removed two foil packets from the baggie, popped out two tabs, broke them into fourths and dropped a piece into each tube. She shook the water to dissolve the tablet pieces.

The water in one tube turned blue, indicating bacteria, not uncommon, and the other turned red, indicating a chemical component.

Keeping her expression neutral to not alarm either of the men, she used a permanent marker and wrote the ranger station dock on the label along the side of each tube before slipping the tubes into another plastic bag.

Jeff slid on a pair of sunglasses, then picked up the oars. “Ready?”

“Just a sec.” Tessa withdrew sunglasses and a hat from her bag and shoved them both on. “Now I am.”

George pushed the boat off the sand. Soon they were floating. Jeff used the oars to turn the boat so they headed away from the dock. His well-defined biceps drew her attention. The guy obviously worked out. She appreciated when a man took care of himself.

She forced herself to look away. That he was fit aided in what they were doing. That was the only reason she’d even noted his athleticism.

They rowed from location to location along the lake’s surface while she collected and tested samples. The dead fish floating around the boat saddened her.

“Can you row that way?” She pointed to a sandy stretch of the shore. “There’s something weird with the sand over there.”

Jeff dug the oars into the water, propelling the boat in the direction she’d indicated. When the Zodiac slid firmly onto the sandy shore, Tessa scrambled out of the boat to inspect what at first appeared to be a dark stain in the sand.

But on closer inspection, the dark line was some kind of moisture slowly flowing into the lake from the trees. The putrid stench of decay coming from the liquid assaulted her senses.

Heart racing, she ran back to the boat to grab her testing supplies. Jeff walked toward the trees while she returned to the mystery fluid and tested it.

As the results presented themselves, her stomach twisted in dread and triumph.

With a blue and a red vial in hand, she called to Jeff, “This is the source of the contamination.”

* * *

With Tessa’s words echoing in his head, Jeff stopped at the tree line and stared into the thick ancient forest, where the nasty runoff seemed to originate.

This area was unpopulated and rugged with dense underbrush, towering evergreens, maples and alders, making the woods dark and forbidding.

What was causing the lethal runoff? Had someone been using the forest for chemical waste? Was the noxious substance caused by an accident, or had someone purposely released it? To what end?

The questions spun in his head, making his temples pound.

His first inclination was to charge into the woods to find the cause and put a stop to the polluted flow. They were on American soil. His jurisdiction. His hand rested on the butt of his holstered gun. But he couldn’t do that part of his job, not while he was responsible for Tessa.