Vermont Valentine. Kristin Hardy

the data for about six months.” And ordering more tests, and stalling and stalling and stalling…

      “You ask me, they’re being responsible,” Rumson said heavily. “Just because you think it’s hot stuff doesn’t mean we can just start spraying it around.”

      “You don’t spray it, you inject it.” Her voice was curt.

      “There’s more involved here than just your program. Maples produce a food product and if you think that you can just whip up something in your lab and expect us to take your word on it, well, you don’t know how things work. Taking the time to do it right is the responsible thing to do,” he added pompously.

      Good old Dick, she reflected, always most patronizing when he didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. “Well, they have five years of data from three independent sources, all of it submitted two years ago, to work with. I’d hope they could make a decision based on that in less than a year.”

      Several of the state specialists looked amused, she noticed. Interesting. It appeared that Rumson wasn’t any better liked by his staff than he was by her.

      “At any rate, that’s the future. It doesn’t change what we do today,” she said briskly, moving on. “Right now, our only weapon is removal of the infested and high-risk trees, the sooner the better. The inspection process might be hard work, but it’s critical to the future of this area, so stay alert. If you find a suspicious candidate, mark the tree, log it, take a sample. I’ll collect them from you at the end of the day and follow up from there.” She passed out a stack of maps. “Here’s where I want you deployed.”