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Rancher Under Fire

Page 22

by Vickie McDonough


  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.

  He spun around to look at the woman heading back to the boat. She may know her business around fish, but her domain was the lab, not the wilderness. Despite her bag of essentials, she wouldn’t last more than a few hours in this terrain.

  He blew out a breath. He couldn’t leave her here by herself. Besides, there was no way she’d agree to being left behind, anyway.

  The best course of action was to report what they’d found and let the sheriff and the professionals who knew how to deal with toxic waste handle this situation. He slipped his cell phone out of his pocket. No signal. Great.

  The roar of an outboard motor revved through the air. A speedboat, carrying two men dressed in camouflage, zipped along the water’s surface heading in their direction.

  Jeff clenched his jaw. Probably hunters. Ranger Harris and Sheriff Larkin had shut down the lake. These two jokers were going to be in big trouble. He’d report the boat’s bow number to the sheriff when he returned to the ranger station.

  Shaking his head with frustration, Jeff stalked back toward Tessa. She sat in the boat fiddling with a walkie-talkie. Resourceful woman.

  She glanced up and yelled, “I can’t get this thing to work!”

  The engine on the speedboat cut to an idle and diverted Jeff’s attention away from Tessa. Both men pulled bandannas over the lower half of their faces, and one of the men hefted a rifle to his shoulder, aiming the weapon at Tessa.

  Horror flooded Jeff’s system. He grabbed his sidearm. “Tessa! Get down!”

  Copyright © 2014 by Terri Reed

  ISBN-13: 9781460339374

  RANCHER UNDER FIRE

  Copyright © 2014 by Vickie McDonough

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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