Danger at the Border. Terri Reed

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      “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 СКАЧАТЬ