by Debra Jupe
Reed lumbered farther from her. Hands on his hips, he turned, looking from side to side. “Don’t see anyone. I guess whoever was in danger managed to get out.”
She didn’t miss the relief in his voice.
Gracie stepped closer to the house. The outer lock was in a horizontal position, the insides fogged. A pungent odor of pesticides seeped through the slender cracks.
“I’m not so sure anyone escaped.” She squinted toward the heavily misted greenhouse. “I’m thinking we may be too late.”
Chapter 2
Gracie rushed to the entrance, flipped the latch, and slid the door open an inch. Hoary fumes billowed through the crack. A sharp, bitterness saturated the air.
She jumped away and covered her breathing cavities with a palm.
Reed’s head whipped as his gaze followed Gracie. “You don’t think someone’s inside, do you?”
Her arm fell to her side. “The person said they were trapped. We haven’t heard from anybody in a while. It’s a definite possibility.”
Reed came up behind her. “Do you see anyone?”
She strained to distinguish something unusual through the haze. “Too foggy.” She paused. “Why is this greenhouse being fumigated now? It’s always been taboo to spray poisons of this magnitude while the nursery is in operation. You don’t even have a sign posted.”
“This house has a major bug problem, and it’s up to be sprayed. And yeah, you’re right. Even if we’re closed, a warning should be outside.” Hands on hips, he shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
A mournful groan ricocheted from the fog. Reed leaned over her shoulder. “My God, someone is in there.”
Gracie flattened a hand across her forehead and squinted against the sun.
“Yes, but where in there? I can’t see a thing.” Vapor’s swirled within the house. Her gaze traveled the building’s entrails, concentrating hard on the floor. “There.” She pointed. “Near the back.” A body lay sprawled across the soggy ground cloth amid a crop of zinnias.
“Oh shit, it’s Ethan. Ethan,” Reed shouted. “Hang on.” He rushed to the door, shoved it all the way open, and then back peddled. He hacked a stiff cough, waving the fumes away. “Not sure how to get him out.”
“Somehow we have to. We need masks before we even try to go inside.”
“I’m on it.” Reed took off in a run.
Gracie gazed at the motionless torso stretched across the floor. She yanked her cell from her back pocket. No bars. She wasn’t surprised. The service out here was iffy at best. Not that it would make a big difference if she did manage to call for help. The nursery was located in the boonies. By the time assistance arrived, they may be too late, if it wasn’t already. She studied the stilled Ethan with a combination of dread and unease. Reed’s silhouetted form reappeared in the distance. He rushed to her at top speed, a facemask in each hand.
“I could only find these disposables,” he panted as he approached. He stopped next to her and passed her a mask. “But we won’t be inside long, these should work.”
“The material is heavy enough.” She should’ve gone for the protection since she knew where the professional heavy duties were kept. She extended the rubber holder and pulled the cover over her head, fitting it across her mouth and nose. “They’ll do.”
She shot a glance at Reed, who squeezed the second facemask between his hands. He surveyed the murky greenhouse, his face pale. Gracie motioned toward the mask. “We need to hurry. Put that on.”
He chuckled anxiously, his complexion whitening more. “Insecticides make me sick. I’m already nauseous from the smell. I’ll go in if you need me to, but I’m afraid you’ll end up rescuing the both of us.”
Gracie nodded, understanding that even the slightest contact with the toxic fumes made some people violently ill. Gasses of this magnitude would put those affected under. “Fine, but don’t stand too far from the entrance. He’s a lot bigger than me. I can drag him for a ways, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get him outside.”
“I can go get some more help.”
She glanced at the lifeless Ethan draped across the asphalt shaded ground-cloth. “No time,” she said as she stepped through the door.
“Call when you’re ready for me.”
The interiors of the sealed house stifled from lack of oxygen combined with toxic spray. The spewing fumes overwhelmed her as the lethal mist dusted her uncovered skin. Even with the protection, she was forced to hold her breath, taking a small gasp each time she required air. She blinked repeatedly and wished she had goggles, too. Carefully, she paced across the soaked tarpaulin, Ethan becoming clearer with each step. After what seemed like forever, she finally reached him. He lay on his stomach. He’d removed his shirt and wrapped it around his head, holding the fabric secure with his fingers.
She bent and placed a hand onto his bare shoulder. His torso felt warm and wet. He spun around. A pair of gray eyes peered through a makeshift hole in the material. She straightened, bouncing backward, shocked he was alive, much less conscious.
Once relief set in, she leaned over him. “Are you okay?”
He extended his palm. She nodded, thankful she wouldn’t have to carry him since she’d misjudged the amount of gushing toxins. No way would she be able to rescue him alone.
She took his hand between hers, giving him a firm tug, and slowly drew him to shaky feet. He rocked back and forth, and his body swayed before he collapsed into her. Gracie struggled to stay steady.
Finding his stability, he rested an arm around her shoulder. He situated his shirt over his nose and mouth, then gave her a solid head bob to indicate he was ready. They took a step. Again, he went off-balance and fell into her. Her knees buckled from the added weight. Once more, he fought for strength while Gracie wrestled to keep them on their feet.
“Are you going to be able to walk out?”
“Let’s go,” he choked.
Gracie gauged the extended length between them and the exit. Reed stood far away from the gap, observing them with a worried expression. Gradually they made their way toward the opening, stopping several times for Ethan to recover. Gracie eyed him worriedly. His breathing was labored, his skin saturated, though she wasn’t sure if the wetness was from the spray or perspiration, probably a blend of both. After what seemed like a twenty-mile hike, they reached the outlet. Reed slammed the door behind them once they crossed the threshold.
Ethan toppled to the ground, landing on the hot gravel, though he didn’t seem to notice the roughness or the heat. He took a series of short gasps, coughing in intervals.
Workers had caught on to something was amiss. They gathered around, eyeing the situation either curious or concerned.
Gracie removed her mask, shaking the dampness from her hair and shirt. She slanted over him. His skin was pasty white as he struggled for air. She considered the fastest routes to the emergency room, debating whether someone should drive him or should they call in the EMTs. Probably best to have the experts transport, in case the unthinkable happened along the way. She looked at him again. Hopefully, he wouldn’t get any worse before help arrived.
Reed jogged to her side, then stepped around her to kneel next to Ethan. “Are you all right?”
“No, he’s not.” Gracie straightened. “He needs medical attention immediately. Call an ambulance.”
Reed turned his head, looking at the group of employees. “We’re not supposed to bring phones into the nursery, but everybody carries one. Someone dial 911.”
Gracie shook her head “I tried earlier.” She flipped her cell from her pocket and held it up. “No service.”
Reed wiped the sweat from his brow. “Somebody go to the office and call from the landline.”
Ethan shot out a hand and shook his head. “I’m fine,” he insisted in a rasped tone. He scrubbed the shirt over his damp face, gulping for another breath. “Never realized how much I enjoy clean air.”
He rose to his elbows, triggering his m
uscular arms to ripple. Gracie’s mouth dried. Though inappropriate, she battled not to stare. Her gaze flowed to his flat stomach, perfect, muscled chest…and those firm, powerfully built arms.
Shunning the memories of their recent closeness, she fought to regain her faculties before she lost all semblance of professionalism and common sense. “You don’t look so fine,” she said in a tight voice.
He glanced in her direction. His color was beginning to return, and his eyes held a slight twinkle as a grin played at his lips. His expression told her he read her mind perfectly. He tilted his head and studied the insides of the cloudy house. “Damn. Left my sunglasses. Hope they won’t ruin.”
“Really? That’s your worry?” Gracie asked skeptically. “I’m not sure what took place, but I’m guessing you don’t normally just walk into fumigating houses. How did this happen?”
He coughed again then wrestled to a sitting position. He raked a hand through his moist hair and turned his attention to her. “You’re still here. Though I suppose your inability to follow orders is a positive, considering the situation.”
Gracie folded her arms across her chest and gave him a scornful look. “You mean considering I saved your life.”
“True. But I believe it’s time you did what you were told, and go wait in the office. You see what can happen out here, even if you’re careful.”
“You’re still on that?” She released a sarcastic chuckle. “May I remind you, it didn’t happen to me? You were the one who was trapped. Shouldn’t you be bothered by the fact someone locked you in a greenhouse full of poison?”
He appeared shocked. Like the thought hadn’t occurred to him.
“Instead of harping on me for not obeying your stupid rules,” she continued, “how about a thank you for saving your life?”
He dipped his head. “I suppose I owe you.”
“If that’s your idea of a thanks, I suppose I’ll take it.”
A putting sound had everyone temporarily forget Ethan’s dilemma and stand at attention.
“It’s about to hit the fan now,” Reed murmured at a nearing golf cart. He rose and backed away from Ethan.
“No joke.” Ethan edged to his feet, weaving as he stood. He let go a loud stream of air as the nursery’s owner maneuvered the miniature vehicle in front of the stationary cluster of employees.
Mike Manzel killed the engine and exited. Krystal, Gracie’s friend and the nursery’s head grower was next to him, also climbed from her seat. She caught Gracie’s eye and gave her a small smile before her mouth altered into a flat line. Mike took in the assembly, his expression blank though Gracie knew better. Her years here made her acutely aware Mike didn’t tolerate workers loitering on his dime. He wasn’t happy.
He glared pointedly at Ethan. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve had a…” Ethan glanced at Gracie. “Situation.”
“I don’t do vague, Ethan.” He stopped to scowl at the inactive crew. The group took a back step. “Explain to me why my entire staff is standing around instead of doing what I pay them to do.”
Reed turned to the employees. “Shows over.” He clapped his hands. “Back to work.” The crowd instantly dispersed, Reed hurrying after them.
Ethan swiped his shirt over his forehead one more time before he poked his arms and head through the holes to cover his torso. “I can’t give a lot of details, Mike, because I don’t know any. I was doing a nursery walk-through when I noticed this house sealed. I went in to investigate. Once I reached the back, I heard a hiss, similar to cans spraying. Before I realized, the door was shut and locked from the outside, the area filled with poison.” He hesitated. “If not for Ms. Desoto’s unwillingness to follow procedure, the outcome may be much more dismal. At least from my perspective.”
Mike scowled at Ethan in disbelief. “You’re telling me you were locked inside during a fumigation?”
“That’s what I’m saying. I tried to break through the plastic, but the double layer of polycarbonate is so sturdy, along with the house filled poisonous fumes, I couldn’t even tear an inch.”
Mike rotated to Krystal, who’d walked to the spewing greenhouse. “Krystal?”
She spun around, shaking her head with a shrug. “No idea, Mike.”
He sighed loudly, his face turned purple with rage. Fists clenched into tight balls, he visibly shook. If he’d been a cartoon character, smoke would blow out of his ears. “Where the hell is Quinn,” he said through gritted teeth. “I want to know who did this, and I want to know now.”
Quinn was the third woman who’d replaced Gracie, and although it’d been a while, the transition had been less than smooth. This situation wasn’t going to help her cause.
“I’ll speak with her, Mike,” Krystal assured.
“Find out what’s going on. She’s responsible for chemical outtake. She should be on sight and or at least be aware what is being sprayed and where.” Mike cleared his throat. His glance bounced between Gracie and her friend. “Krystal. Why don’t you show Gracie the new selection of ground covers that just arrived?” He motioned for Ethan and said to the women over his shoulder, “You can take the cart.”
Gracie and Krystal looked at each other with raised brows. Mike never relinquished his mode of transportation. Evidently he wanted them out of hearing range while he and Ethan continued their conversation.
They mounted the transport without question, Krystal at the wheel. She finessed the vehicle past the men in a whispered huddle.
Gracie glanced at the two as they passed. Ethan ripped his attention away, his gaze instantly linked with hers. His lips slightly lifted, his gray eyes sparkled. Her heartbeat increased to lightning speed, smacking into her chest. She swallowed hard and whirled away, trying to control her sudden heavy breathing.
Krystal pointed the golf cart toward the premises outer range. Neither spoke on the ride over. This place had its moments, but the tension had never been this elevated.
“Rather an edgy day,” Gracie commented dryly.
“It’s been a stressful few weeks, but yeah, you’re right. This incident will up the strain a notch.”
“A notch? Someone was nearly killed.”
“The welcome hasn’t been so hearty for our new supervisor.” Her friend tried to be flippant, but the tremble in her voice showed how upset she was over the occurrence.
“This is disturbing, but the outcome could’ve been much worse.”
Krystal guided the cart over a long graveled road, bridged between two cooling ponds. “Did I understand correctly? You saved him?”
Gracie nodded, then gave an abbreviated version of the event. “What’s Mike’s thinking by bringing him in, anyway?” she asked at the end of her story. “Just his presence seems to have added to the anxiety.”
Gracie wondered why she bothered. Tall and exciting, yes, but bossy and condescending too. Not her type. Something told her his knowledge about the workings of a nursery were nil. His demeanor didn’t jive with the normal horticultural persona, so what was he doing here?
And again, why did she care?
“Mike wants his employees to have more structure.”
Krystal parked near the border of the growing area. Hundreds of gallon pots of tall grasses wisped in the hot breeze. Normally, the plants would’ve grabbed Gracie’s interest, but not now. She couldn’t free her thoughts from Ethan McCarthy.
“Mike’s been trying to do that for years. Has this Ethan managed to implement organization?”
“Well…” her friend paused. “Not exactly, but not for the lack of trying. He hasn’t been here that long. I’m sure he’ll get the job done eventually. Change doesn’t happen overnight.”
“The shortage of stability has always been an issue. Heck, it’s prevalent in this business. I deal with the same problem.”
“Our troubles go beyond that.” Krystal gave Gracie a grave look. “There’s been some other stuff happening.”
Gracie frowned, recalling Reed’s response right before
they’d discovered Ethan. “Like what?”
“Weird things.” Krystal appeared uncomfortable. “That no one can explain. Be glad you’re gone. I’ve had to make myself come to work lately.”
Chapter 3
“Weird as in what happened to Ethan?”
Krystal spread a hand across her chest, her expression uncomfortable. Like she’d revealed too much. “Not as serious, but we’ve had a lot of little issues—almost as if we’re being warned that something, or someone is out to harm us.” She stopped to look around. “There’s a couple of other things, too. Bigger.”
“Such as?”
“We can’t discuss the details here. The nursery has ears. You know Mike. He’s hell bent on keeping negativities private. Most employees aren’t aware of our problems. Although after this latest incident, I suppose he has no choice. He needs to call the authorities.”
Krystal was right. Mike was protective about his business and careful not to allow pessimisms to get out into the community, even if he sometimes looked the other way where the law was concerned.
“I don’t disagree, but it’s too late for the police to do a thorough investigation considering we were everywhere and contaminated any evidence.”
“True, but the incident should be reported.” Krystal stepped from the cart. “We’ll talk more on the subject at lunch. Come look at these beautiful, accent grasses.”
They viewed the products, keeping their conversation focused on plants, and Gracie’s latest landscaping venture. She took plenty of notes, then they climbed back inside the golf cart. Krystal drove them through the compound, pointing out other new intakes that may interest Gracie until they arrived in front of an older doublewide, which served as the office.
“I need to speak with Quinn, per Mike,” Krystal told Gracie as they mounted the stairs leading to the entrance. “I’ll do that while you place your order.”