“You, too,” they called out.
She walked out of the forest service’s four-story building and headed for her truck in the parking lot. Her first destination was a convenience store where she could buy some ice for the small ice chest she kept with her. When she took tree samples, she stored them in it to keep cold until she could send them to the lab.
Another half hour of battling morning traffic and she reached her first appointment in southwest Austin. She was supposed to meet Carl, the manager of the Sunset apartment complex, outside his office at eight-thirty.
Once she found the designated parking area, she got out of the cab and walked through the breezeway where she discovered a middle-aged man waiting. “Are you Carl?”
“Yes. You must be Ms. Koslov. Come with me and I’ll show you what I’m concerned about.”
Four separate buildings faced onto a grove of sycamore trees probably seventy feet high. They walked over to a tree with some brown spots on the fallen leaves. She nodded. “These trees have been attacked by a common disease called anthracnose. The owner of the complex needs to arrange for the trees to be pruned.”
The manager shook his head. “He’s not going to like it.”
“He’ll like it a lot less if they die.” She pointed to the tops. “Some of those branches need to be removed to allow more sunlight in so the leaves will thrive.”
“If you say so. I’ll get right on it.”
“That’s good. These are lovely trees, the focal point of the complex. It would be a shame to lose any of them.”
“I agree. Thanks for being so prompt.”
“You’re welcome.” With that accomplished, she drove off to her next appointment ten miles to the east. This time it was the residence of the Johnsons, a couple probably in their early eighties. According to the message, they’d lived in their home on its five-acre lot of live oaks for years.
“Thank you for coming, Ms. Koslov. These are like our children.” Mrs. Johnson stood in the doorway, wringing her hands. Her husband was leaning on a cane while he stared at Blaire with tears in his eyes. She understood their grief. Trees like theirs had to be at least two hundred years old. They were their pride and joy, a living part of them. “Please tell us what we can do to save them.”
“First, I have to make an inspection. It might take a while. You stay in the house. When I’m through I’ll come back and we’ll talk.”
Mrs. Johnson bit her lip and whispered her thanks.
Blaire started around the side of the house with her satchel and ice chest. She approached one of the sick-looking trees, noticing a “stag-head” appearance at the crown. The isolated dead branches on top told their own story. She estimated this tree had been infected two or more years.
Oak wilt was a fungus that invaded the tree’s vascular system, clogging it and cutting off the water supply. It killed trees. The fungus had been infesting trees across the United States and was responsible for an epidemic in Texas. Ten thousand trees had been lost to date.
Though she saw signs of the disease in the scorched leaves, she needed to take samples and have them analyzed back at the laboratory first to verify her diagnosis. Sometimes symptoms were confused with other causes due to changes in soil grade, root rot, two-lined chestnut borer…the list went on and on.
After getting out a can of disinfectant, she sprayed her hands and the entire contents of her satchel and ice chest inside and out. Once she’d tucked a small can of black spray paint into her back pocket, she took her handsaw and a plastic bag and started climbing the tree.
At a certain point she collected wilted branches that still had some partially green leaves. She gathered half a dozen pieces that were six inches long and a half inch in diameter, leaving the bark on them. A couple of twigs had wilted leaves. She took a few samples of those, too.
Since the fungus was heat-sensitive, the samples needed to be kept cool and analyzed quickly before they dried out. She put everything in the plastic bag, then sprayed the spots where she had cut to prevent further infection.
With that done, she climbed back down to the first joint in the tree. From there she jumped to the ground, almost landing on someone standing at the base. She let out a shocked cry. The saw and plastic bag dropped from her hand.
“Oh—” she said again when two strong, masculine hands reached down to help her up. “I could have injured you.”
“But you didn’t,” a deep male voice said. “Sorry I startled you, Blaire Koslov.”
Chapter Two
When Blaire lifted her head, she found herself looking up at a man with medium-cropped black hair and hard-boned facial features. As gradations of rugged male beauty went, his had to be off the charts. Above a chiseled jaw and cheekbones she discovered crystalline gray eyes staring down at her.
They were framed by long lashes as dark as his winged brows—and they reflected male interest. But Blaire felt them probe hers as if he were searching for something. What it was, she didn’t know. It sent the strangest sensation through her.
In fact, the way he’d expressed himself just now—his body language, everything about him—gave off an unconscious aura of authority that caught her off guard. For no reason she could think of, she sensed he could be dangerous, too. The situation had made her slightly breathless.
“It’s all right. I should have looked before I leaped.”
An unexpected little half smile at the corner of his wide mouth threw her further off balance. Blaire was used to being around the guys in their forest service uniforms. But this man had to be six foot two or three, with a hard-muscled physique that made him quite unforgettable. She knew she’d never seen him before.
He sprayed his hands with her disinfectant. Blaire noticed he didn’t wear a ring of any kind. Two years after having no word of Nate, she’d taken off her own wedding band and engagement ring. They were in the dresser for safekeeping.
“I thought you must have seen me walking toward you. I’m Jack Lignell with the Trees for Texas program here in Austin.” That explained why their paths hadn’t crossed. “Your boss sent me to be Perry Watkins’s replacement while he’s on personal leave. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for the next couple of weeks.” He spoke in a low cultured voice she found as attractive as the rest of him.
“That works both ways.” She flashed him a smile, trying to seem as normal as possible when she didn’t feel normal at all. “Welcome to the team.”
“Thank you.” As he hunkered down to put the plastic bag in the ice chest, the play of muscles in his shoulders and back drew her gaze. She detected the appealing scent of the soap he must have used in the shower as it mingled with the disinfectant. It wafted past her, increasing her awareness of him.
“How did you know where to find me?”
He stood up. “Sheila, is it? She gave me your schedule. I’ve been two steps behind you, then I saw the truck in the driveway. Mrs. Johnson told me where to come. Did you know she and her husband were married out here sixty years ago?”
“I had no idea.”
So he’d had quite a chat with them. She sensed this take-charge man would certainly have inspired confidence in the owners of this property.
She reached in the satchel for her hammer and chisel to take a sample from the joint of the tree. It required scraping off the bark to get to the woody white tissue. After setting herself to the task, she took a sample and placed it in another plastic bag before spraying the spot with black paint.
He put the bag in the chest with the other one. “Mr. Johnson said they planned on their love going on forever just like these trees. It’s nice to meet a couple who’ve been so devoted to each other over the years.”
“I agree.” Once upon a time Blaire had planned on a marriage that lasted a lifetime, but instead she’d had a nightmare she’d never awoken from. The last thing she felt like doing was talking about it. “After hearing their story, it’s vital we get to the source of the problem in a hurry so as many trees as possible can
be preserved.”
His eyes studied the other diseased trees before he nodded. “If it turns out this is live oak wilt, the rock saw will have to be brought in to break up those roots and stop the spread.”
“The Johnsons won’t like it. Did you explain that to them?”
Her question caused his gaze to swerve to hers. “I thought it better not to say anything until we get the lab results back first with a firm diagnosis. I told them it could be two to four weeks.” He picked up the ice chest. “I’ll tell them goodbye and meet you at your truck.”
Blaire studied Perry’s replacement as he headed for the house on those long, powerful legs. One thing she’d already learned about her new temporary partner. The man didn’t like to waste time. Neither did she.
After putting all the tools and cans in the satchel, she started walking around the house and discovered him waiting for her with the driver’s door open. He’d put the chest on the seat and reached for the satchel to stow it for her.
She wasn’t used to help from the guys, but she didn’t mind. In fact, it was rather nice. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “Since time is of the essence where those samples are concerned, let’s drive to College Station and drop them off at the lab.”
“I usually courier them on ice overnight.”
“I’m aware of that, but I was just pulled off my job at Trees for Texas to fill in. I’d like to pick your brains to get the lay of the land so to speak. Your supervisor, Stan Belnap, said he didn’t have the time to do it. I figure our three-hour round trip will give you time to bring me up-to-date on your latest project. Do you mind?”
She blinked. “No. Of course not.” What else could she say? It was all in the line of work. It was just that he was the first man to disturb her senses since Nate, and she was so surprised by her feelings, she felt…she felt stupid.
Kind of like the way she’d felt in high school when she’d developed her first real crush on a gorgeous guy and didn’t know how to handle it. Surely being this close to her thirtieth birthday ought to have matured her emotions.
“Then I’ll follow you back to the office and we’ll go from there in the truck they issued me. We’ll grab lunch en route. I presume any appointments we miss this afternoon, Sheila can reschedule for tomorrow.”
He possessed a rare, unconscious self-assurance she found intriguing despite her effort not to give him any more thought than she gave Perry or her other male colleagues. But the more Blaire tried to concentrate on anything else, the more she found herself unable to.
She climbed into the cab. “I’ll give her a call on the way.”
“Good,” he said with a quick smile and shut her door before walking around to get in his truck.
For the first time in years she was conscious of the pulse throbbing at her throat. She’d already acknowledged the reason for it, but still couldn’t believe it. Somehow Blaire had thought that part of her had died when Nate had gone missing.
On her drive back to the office in the northeastern part of Austin, the noon traffic proved to be worse than the morning commute. Yet through all of it, Jack Lignell stayed right behind her. While she spoke to Sheila, she tried not to glance at the rearview mirror, but even with him out of sight, she sensed such an energy in the cosmos from him that she could feel it no matter how much she wished she could ignore him.
After she parked the truck with the rest of the fleet, he was right there to put her things in the back of his truck and help her get in. Their arms brushed by accident, putting an electric seal on the morning’s events.
Blaire’s doctor had predicted that one day she would come alive again when she least expected it.
As he started up his truck, she wondered if her energy gave off vibes to him. She prayed not.
BLAIRE KOSLOV WAS APPEALING, all right, just as Agent Robbins had intimated. Caige would never forget the stunned look coming from those incredible blue eyes when she’d realized she’d almost jumped on him.
She was nice. Polite. Educated. Businesslike, but not to the extreme.
He’d spotted her curved figure and long legs up in the tree before he’d reached it. She had a lissome quality when she moved. Face-to-face, he found her wide mouth provocative. Her classic features were framed by neck-length wavy hair with a lustrous sheen.
The black-and-white photo hadn’t done her justice. In the sunlight her hair reminded him of swirls of caramel sauce poured over vanilla ice cream, not quite mixed together. All in all, Nathan Farley’s lovely wife possessed a strong, natural femininity he couldn’t remember coming across before in other women.
Caige’s first thought was that her missing spouse wouldn’t willingly have left her. But that was Caige the man speaking, because Blaire Koslov’s particular brand of charisma had already gotten under his skin. Not even with Liz had he felt this intense physical attraction to another woman on a first meeting.
But Caige the Ranger knew a beautiful spouse had no pull on a husband leading a life dominated by crime. Caige could point to hundreds of cases of beautiful wives being abandoned as proof.
Last but not least, a beautiful spouse could commit premeditated murder just as easily as any murderer. Caige knew that, too.
Agent Robbins had said he wanted to believe Nathan Farley had been a victim of foul play and that Blaire Koslov was innocent of any wrongdoing. After meeting her, Caige wanted to believe it, too, but his years of training with the Rangers forced him to consider every ugly possibility.
If she’d killed her husband, then he needed to discover a motive. That’s where he would concentrate while they drove to College Station, but first they needed food. Twenty miles out of Austin, he pulled into a diner he favored.
After shutting off the motor he turned to her. “Have you ever eaten at Wally’s?”
“No, but I’ve passed it dozens of times on my way home to visit family.”
“Way home from where?”
“College Station.”
“You lived there?”
“I went to Texas A&M for graduate school.”
That piece of information hadn’t been in the report because the detectives had dropped the ball in her husband’s case before she’d finished her undergraduate studies.
“Did you get a degree?”
“Yes. Plant pathology.”
Despite what had happened to her, she’d pursued more education. Innocent or guilty, it proved she had a strong will. “That explains your expertise.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I do. The way you went about performing surgery on that tree joint like a bone surgeon convinced me.” Her gentle laugh charmed him. Their eyes held for a moment. “Your supervisor said I could learn a lot from you. He was right.”
Blaire’s boss had gone out of his way to help Caige cram a lot of knowledge into one weekend of learning time. He gave him a book on tree diseases and marked passages for him to read for the next few nights so he wouldn’t be at a complete loss. What he didn’t know he could blame on being pulled from the Trees for Texas program, which concentrated on continually planting new trees rather than dealing with tree diseases.
On that note Caige got out of the cab and would have helped her, but she’d already jumped down. After they entered the busy café, he found them a booth and sat across from her. There were menus in the wall holder. He handed her one. “Take a look and let me know what you want. I’ll phone it in with mine.”
Blaire noticed there were phones on the walls at each booth to call in the order. Once she’d made a decision and he’d placed them, she excused herself. “My hands are covered in disinfectant. I need to wash it off.”
“We both do.”
In a few minutes they were back. She took the initiative. “Tell me about yourself. Where did you go to college?”
“The University of Texas in Austin.”
“So did I. My family’s always lived here.”
He smiled at her. “After graduation, I started work with th
e forest service.”
“Were you born in Austin, too?”
Though being undercover meant some lies were necessary, he found it better to stick to the truth whenever possible, so he answered, “No. Naylor.”
“Oh. I’ve been there many times with family to check out the museums. That’s not far away.”
“It’s close enough for my son and I to visit family when I get the time off.”
He heard her hesitation before she said, “What about your wife?”
It appeared that if he wanted information from Blaire, then he needed to invite her into his confidence. “We’ve been divorced for two years.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “How old is your boy?”
“Josh turned eight a month ago.”
“How lucky you are to have him.” The wealth of emotion behind those words sounded real enough.
“You’re right about that. Three years ago he was hit by a car in front of the house. For a while we thought we’d lost him.”
“How awful,” she whispered with compassion.
“I won’t lie to you about that. When Josh did pull through, the doctors told us he would be brain-injured. That was a life-changing experience for the three of us.
“Unfortunately, my wife couldn’t handle the pain. Since then she has remarried and visits Josh on occasion. Now you know my life story. The reason I’ve told you all this is because there might be times when I’ll have to leave work early or not come at all depending on his good and bad days.”
As she stared at him, tears filled her eyes. Before she could say anything, the waiter brought their burgers. When he had walked away, she cleared her throat. “Do you have a picture?”
Caige hadn’t expected that. “Have you got all day?” He reached in his back pocket for his wallet and handed her the small packet of photos.
She studied each one while they ate. “He’s darling. Precious. One day he’s going to grow up looking a lot like his dad,” she said with a tremor in her voice.
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