Danger at the Border (2 page)

“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 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!”

TWO

A
startling bang followed by an even louder pop jolted through Tessa. One side of the Zodiac deflated like a balloon pricked by a needle. She was being shot at!

She dived to the floor of the boat. More gunfire erupted. The shocking sound vibrated through her, making her heart pound so hard she thought it would explode out of her chest.

Jeff jumped over the still-inflated side of the Zodiac, landing with a thump beside her. He log-rolled onto his back, his gun in front of him, aimed toward the lake. “You okay?”

“Yes. You?”

He fired off two rounds. The deafening noise reverberated inside her head. She reached beneath the bench seat for the Zodiac’s emergency kit, grabbed the flare gun and clutched it to her chest.

“Please, God...help.” The whispered prayer slipped out, dredged up from a suppressed place deep within her soul.

She flipped onto her back and aimed toward the boat, preparing to fire.

Jeff shook his head. “No. We may need that.”

The speedboat roared away. They were leaving. Relief made her melt into the floor.

Jeff jumped to his feet and tugged on her arm. “They’re circling back. Get up. We have to run for the trees.”

Galvanized by fear and adrenaline, she scrambled out of the boat. Her ears rang, and her temples throbbed. Jeff grabbed her duffel bag and tugged her along.

“Wait! The walkie-talkie!” She’d dropped it on the bottom of the boat. It was the only way of reaching help. She turned to run back.

The speedboat raced toward the shore.

Bullets slammed into the ground, spitting up pieces of sand that bit her flesh through her pant leg. She let out a yelp as she skidded in the loose soil, her arms windmilling as she fought to keep her balance. Her mind screamed,
Run for your life!
while her practical side yelled,
Get the walkie-talkie!
It could be the only way they survived.

“Leave it!” Jeff’s shouted command overrode her inner conflict. He captured her by the waist, hauling her off her feet, and ran with her in one arm and her duffel gripped in the other hand.

More bullets whizzed past, hitting the earth, the trees. Tessa gripped Jeff’s arm with a fresh wave of panic. What if he was hit trying to protect her? She hated the thought of someone being hurt on her account.

Once they reached the shelter of the forest, he set her on her feet. “Go!” he urged, giving her a slight push.

She ran, charging through the underbrush, not caring that branches snagged at her clothes and twigs snapped beneath her heels. They were running for their lives. But at least they were alive to run.

Finally, Jeff tugged her behind the huge trunk of a Douglas fir. Dropping the bag on the ground, he pressed close to her, his six-foot frame crowding her personal bubble. Normally, she didn’t like when anyone invaded her space, but she found comfort in the protection he so easily and willingly extended. That it was part of his job didn’t matter. She’d take it.

Her breathing came in ragged gasps. She willed her heart rate to slow. Blinking up at him, she asked, “What do we do now?”

He leaned sideways to peer around the tree toward the lake, then straightened to meet her gaze. “Pray. And thank God for the forest.”

Was he being glib?

Looking into the depths of his blue eyes, she saw sincerity. “Praying’s good.”

Holding her gaze, he said, “Lord, we ask for Your protection. We ask that You would guide us out of these woods safely. In Your Son’s name, amen.”

Quick and painless. But would the words be effective? She’d had so many unanswered prayers in her life, she wasn’t sure God really listened. At least not to her. “Amen.”

Jeff stepped back and surveyed their surroundings. “We can’t go back the way we came. Obviously, someone isn’t happy we’re investigating the contamination.”

Tessa dropped to her knees and dug through her bag. “Ranger Harris gave me a map of the area.” She tugged the folded map out of the pocket she’d stuffed it in.

Jeff knelt down beside her to help unfold the map. He pointed to a spot along the lakeshore. “This is where our boat is.” He moved his finger in a straight line through the forest section and stopped. “We’re probably about here.”

They’d gone approximately three hundred feet. She studied the map. “Look. There’s a fire road here.”

“That’s about twenty miles west.”

She glanced to her right to where the nasty substance marred the forest floor. “The same direction the toxin’s flowing from.”

He nodded. “We’ll either come across the source of the pollutant first or the fire road.”

She had an awful suspicion that finding the source would be detrimental to their well-being. “And when we get to the road, then what?”

“We follow it back to civilization.”

“And help.” She was glad she’d worn her older, broken-in boots, though she hadn’t counted on a trek in the woods. Remembering she had a compass in her duffel, she dug the small device out to verify the direction they needed to travel.

He stood, his body tense as he looked from her to their surroundings. “We have to pay attention to signs of life, human and animal. We don’t want to go tramping into a cougar habitat or come upon a pack of gray wolves unawares.”

“This isn’t my first foray into the woods, you know.” She’d been trained in wilderness survival techniques. Not that she’d ever had to use them.

He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sure those situations weren’t like this.”

She folded the map and stowed it away in the pocket of her duffel. “No, they weren’t. Most of the fieldwork I do is with teams responsible for the protection and restoration of fish habitat management. I rarely venture far from the water’s edge. And I’ve never been shot at.” She quaked, recalling how close those bullets had come. After tucking the flare gun inside the bag, she zipped it up and stood.

“Here, let me take that.” He reached for her bag.

She hesitated. Part of her wanted to let him carry her load. But that wouldn’t be fair. She’d brought the duffel; she should be responsible to carry her bag. “I’ve got it.”

His expression hardened. “We need to move quickly. It’s only going to slow you down.”

Accepting his rationale was easier than accepting his help. She relinquished her hold on the duffel. “You’re right. Thank you.”

He settled the strap across his body. “Why didn’t you bring a team with you to the lake?”

She shrugged, trying to downplay the truth. “I felt a strong urging that I needed to get to Glen Lake quickly.”

For expedience’s sake, she’d advocated traveling to Glen Lake alone to assess the damage and then decide if a full team would be required to make the trek to Washington State. She’d hoped the fish kill was something simple, something that could be easily contained.

Unfortunately, that clearly wasn’t the case. Once they returned to the ranger station, she’d report in. By then the team would have been assembled and ready to move.

“You listened to your gut feeling.” He sounded approving. “In my line of work, that could make the difference between life and death.”

If what happened earlier was any indication of the type of situations he alluded to, she was glad she worked with fish, not criminals. She admired and respected men and women who put their lives at risk for others. It took courage and commitment. And apparently faith.

“Has it?” she asked. “I mean, has your gut feeling saved your life?”

He held her gaze. “Yes. Though I prefer to think that God was prompting me rather than it having anything to do with me.”

“Interesting.” She wasn’t sure what she thought about his statement. Had God ever prompted her? Until today it had be a long time since she’d thought about faith. She couldn’t honestly say where she stood with God.

Needing to put them back on track, she said, “We should go.”

After a heartbeat, he looked away, releasing his hold on her. She filled her lungs with deep breaths as if she’d been deprived of oxygen. Shaking off his effect, she put one foot in front of the other and moved forward.

Jeff gestured to the trees. “See the patterns of the woods? The areas of light that seep through the canopy of tree branches? The dark places are where an animal would be most likely to hide. If we pay attention, the forest can tell us a lot about the creatures that live here.”

Apparently, he’d had some wilderness training, too. She glanced around. Though she still saw the ecological environment that could be broken down into fascinating individual pieces, she also saw the complex system of living organisms and an ecosystem that held dangers as well as secrets. “So in addition to running for our lives and keeping an eye out for more bad guys, what should we be looking for?”

“The obvious is footprints. The ground closer to the runoff will be softer and will show more, but we can’t rely on just the obvious.”

A cold knot formed in Tessa’s stomach. “If an animal drank from this liquid...”

“We might come across a sick or dead animal.”

She shuddered at the images that rose in her mind. A sick animal could be more dangerous than a frightened one. The beast wouldn’t have the good sense to avoid them. Most wild animals preferred to steer clear of humans unless provoked. An injured or sick creature might feel threatened and attack. Danger lurked in every direction. She moved closer to Jeff. “What other signs?”

“Feeding signs, like clipped vegetation or buried carcasses. Sleeping places. Some animals, like the fox, sleep curled beneath a bush, which would flatten the ground cover.”

They moved deeper into the forest. Keeping her gaze alert, Tessa had to double her steps to keep up with his longer stride.

He brushed back the branches of a bush for her to pass through a thicket. “Rub spots, hair or feathers. Scat. Travel routes, places where the vegetation is packed down and bruised, or spots where the leaves have been disturbed or berries of a bush have been stripped or twigs broken or grass bent.”

On the plane over from Utah, she’d read up on the national park. There’d been numerous sightings of cougars this past spring. As well as black bears and wolves. One report sighted a grizzly bear roaming the forest.

These woods covered thousands and thousands of acres across two countries. The likelihood that they’d run into a wild beast was slim. But not impossible.

Tension tightened the muscles between her shoulders. “How do you know so much about this stuff?”

“Through the U.S. Search and Rescue Task Force training.”

“Is that normal for a border agent?”

He shrugged. “Not mandatory. But essential when covering acres of forestland. My job requires I know how to track humans through the woods.”

She’d heard stories of people trying to enter the country illegally through the forests that separated the U.S. from Canada. Jeff’s obvious commitment to his job, to his country, was admirable.

He held out a hand, stopping her. Pointing to the ground, he said, “See this?”

She stooped down to look closer and could make out a faint impression. “What is it?”

“Not sure. Could be the pad print of a mammal, like a fox, cat or raccoon. Or even a porcupine.” His voice hardened. “Or the heel of a boot.”

A shiver of apprehension shimmied down her back. She bent to inspect the liquid and the surrounding earth. “Either this fluid has been flowing for a long time or someone has made a shallow trench.”

She hated that someone had deliberately funneled toxins into the lake. She couldn’t imagine for what purpose other than to poison the water. Someone who would have such little regard for the environment and human life wouldn’t think twice about killing them. A ribbon of fear snaked through her, raising the fine hairs at her nape.

In a low crouch, Jeff searched the ground in a wide radius. “That’s the only impression I see.”

“Is that good or bad?”

Shrugging, he straightened. “Both. Other than right next to the moist dirt, the ground is dry and solid. The dead leaves and fallen branches create a barrier, so the soil isn’t exposed enough for more prints. But that doesn’t mean we can’t tell if an animal or a person passed through the forest duff.”

He pointed out a broken twig. “Something came this way.”

Tessa’s anxiety kicked up, making her tightly strung nerves even more taut. The forest grew thicker, more oppressive the farther they ventured in. She pointed to their left, where the leaves of the forest floor had been disturbed. “And went that way.”

They pressed on. Jeff halted abruptly, putting a hand out to gently touch her arm.

Apprehension crawled up her neck. Her mouth went dry. “What?”

He glanced around, behind them to the sides. “I don’t know. I thought I heard something.”

They stood still and silent for a long moment, letting the sounds of the forest settle. Tessa clenched her hands tight to keep from reaching for Jeff.

A bird chirped high in a tree off to the right.

A chipmunk scurried out of the bushes and darted past them.

Some of the tension visibly drained from Jeff. Tessa reached for her water bottle and drank a few sips to relieve the dryness in her throat. But the lukewarm water did nothing to ease the strain wreaking havoc on her system. They pressed on. Fatigue pulled at the muscles in her legs, making the journey more labored.

Jeff broke the silence. “Where’d you grow up?”

She slanted him a quick look. “Chicago. You?”

“Seattle. Do you have a boyfriend?”

Her steps faltered. “That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”

“Is it? Seems like a reasonable question to ask someone you’re running for your life with.”

“Does it matter?”

“Not to me,” he said. “Just a question.”

For some reason his answer annoyed her. “Why wouldn’t you ask if I was married?”

He reached out to help her over a branch that lay across their path. “You don’t wear a ring.”

Placing her hand in his, Tessa stared, fascinated with the way his bigger, stronger hand engulfed her smaller one and by the contrast in their skin tone. Her white skin, dotted with freckles, was a trait handed down by her Irish heritage.

His suntanned, olive skin was earned protecting the border, but she wondered what he did on his days off. What were his hobbies, his passions? Did he have a family? She gave herself a mental shake. What was she doing? His personal life was none of her business. She yanked her gaze to his face and stepped over the branch. “Neither do you.”