Danger at the Border. Terri Reed

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      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 СКАЧАТЬ