Deadly Hunter. Rachel Lee
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“Tell me about it,” he said. “What exactly is it? How does it spread?”
“Its name wouldn’t mean much to you or to most people who don’t raise livestock. It’s applied to bait to kill animals that eat carrion. Unfortunately, that doesn’t just mean coyotes. Well, it’s bad enough if it stops there, but it doesn’t. The contaminated animal can take hours or days to die, wandering away from the bait. It becomes toxic itself, so wherever it dies, it can contaminate the ground and water, and if anything eats it, it’ll die, too.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah. So they found the bait—at least, they think it was the bait—and only two cows have died so far. They think the cows must have licked some snowmelt or eaten some contaminated grass that was under the snow. Regardless, once the toxin was identified, we had to get into high gear because we can’t be sure what appeared to be the bait wasn’t simply an animal that had eaten the original bait. The spread could be big and getting bigger.”
“So what do you do?”
“Take soil and water samples to try to figure out the impacted area. At the very least to let the ranchers know whether their grazing land and water is safe, but also to try to home in on the dangerous areas.”
“Does it break down? Disperse?”
“Everything does, but you wouldn’t believe how little of this stuff it would take to kill a grown man. In theory, it’s supposed to be used only in livestock collars. So, for example, if a coyote bites a collared ewe on the neck, it’ll get a fatal dose of poison. But there’s enough poison in that one collar to kill six grown men or twenty-five children. If collars get lost or punctured, the poison gets into the environment. And by the way, if a collar is discarded, it’s supposed to be buried at least three feet deep in the ground.”
He nodded. “Okay. But if it’s lost...”
“Yeah, if it’s lost, the poison can leech into the environment. And even if it doesn’t get lost... Well, I painted the picture of what happens when an animal gets poisoned. It wanders away, dies an agonizing death and something else eats it. And there isn’t any known antidote.”
“That could be bad.”
“It is bad. It’s the cascade effect that makes it so awful. If it killed just once, no big deal. But it doesn’t. So until the poison dissipates to safe levels—and even sublethal levels can cause brain damage and so on—you’ve got a big-time problem that’s spreading randomly.”
“I can’t think of a worse scenario. Do you think you can trace it back to its origin?”
“Probably not. I wish I could. If someone wasn’t using it in an authorized collar, then they’re breaking the law in a lot of ways. Law enforcement is looking into that part, but without any success so far. But I’m sure I won’t get that far, and it’s not what I’m out there to do, anyway. I’m just supposed to take samples for the state to identify any areas that present a threat. I hope I don’t find a single one. Maybe it’s all dissipated now. Maybe it was an isolated incident. I hope to God it was.”
“Helluva problem.”
“Yeah.” She propped her chin on her palm and sighed. “If the weather settles down, I start tomorrow. Slowly circling out from where the dead animals were found. With any luck I’ll be able to tell at least one rancher his grazing land is safe.”
“But others?”
“That’s the question. Was that bait the primary kill? Or have other animals died and spread the poison? I guess I’ll find out.”
“Why is this stuff even still in use?”
“Because it works.” She straightened and threw out her arms. “They use it in Australia, New Zealand and Tasmania. To get rid of rodents and other vermin. They’ve had some unexpected consequences, but they got the dose calibrated to do the job without killing too many other things, like the birds. The problem is these collars aren’t low dose. And someone using it illegally would probably overuse it. People have a hard time grasping just how little of this poison is needed.”
“That seems to be a common human failing,” he remarked. Then he rose, went to the sink and rinsed out his mug.
“Thanks for the coffee. See you around.”
She stood to walk him to the door, but he moved fast and by the time she got to her small foyer, there was nothing left of him but the blast of cold that had entered when he opened the door to leave.
“That was fast,” she said to the empty house. She wondered what was riding his tail.
“Military,” she murmured to herself. That probably explained a whole lot more than she could even imagine. But at least he had tried to be polite. She gave him marks for that.
It probably hadn’t been easy for him, either, judging by his initial response to her greeting.
A glance at the clock told her it was still early. Back to grading papers. It was only as she sat at her desk with fresh coffee that she realized something.
That man had gotten her motor running for the first time in years. For all he was a cipher, he’d still kicked her hormones into overdrive and she didn’t know why. Like she needed that? In fact, it was the last thing on earth she wanted from any man.
She squirmed a little in her chair as her most feminine parts insisted on reminding her that she was a woman with very real desires. They happened. It only mattered what she did because of them.
Right. With any luck, the chicken scratchings on the stack of papers in front of her would drive him right from her mind. And her rebellious body.
Chapter 2
Usually, walking and jogging over rough countryside for hours on end made Jerrod sleep well. That night he didn’t sleep well at all, and he wasn’t sure why.
His thoughts kept straying to that pretty brunette next door, her soft sherry-brown eyes, her bright smile, her nicely curved body. She may have thought her assets were hidden beneath those baggy sweats, but whether she knew it or not, those loose clothes enhanced her appeal. It was almost like playing peek-a-boo to watch her move. There was something to be said for not flaunting it.
Was a woman getting to him? It wasn’t as if he’d been doing without sex for very long. Sex came easy to a man like him, especially when he’d still been in uniform. He also knew that he could do without it for long periods. He wasn’t a kid anymore.
He’d been attracted to Allison. No question of that, but maybe what was troubling him was that he’d been attracted to her in other ways than sexually. Something in her personality engaged him, even though they’d had only the briefest of conversations.
He didn’t need that now, not when he was a long way from settled in himself.
If his life was a ledger, he wouldn’t have known whether he was more in the red or the black. How would he? He seldom knew the real purpose behind much of what had been asked of him. He had been given mission briefings; sometimes he knew he was after terrorists, other times he just had to go on faith that his country needed this thing done.
That