"But he died," Tobias said. "I just can't get it out of my mind."
"Maybe there was something wrong with the EpiPen," I said. "I read an article recently about a recall. At any rate, it really doesn't matter. You had nothing to do with what happened to Bug Wharton. If anything, I'm wondering if someone had it in for him."
"What do you mean?"
"It looked to me like someone slipped some bees in a twist of paper through a crack in the window," I said. "I wonder who owns the ranch?"
"Are you thinking someone might have done him in to inherit?" Tobias asked.
"It's total speculation," I said. "We don't even have a cause of death yet. It was probably just an accident."
"I hope you're right." He grimaced as he turned onto the road that led to the ranch. "But there's something off about the whole thing."
"Unfortunately, I think I have to agree with you," I said as we bumped down the dirt road.
Unlike most of the ranches in Buttercup, the Safari Exotic Game Ranch was ringed with a shiny, ten-foot-high fence. "How many acres is the ranch, anyway?" I asked as I watched for signs of exotic animals in the scrubby oaks and mesquite trees.
"It's pretty big," he said. "At least a couple thousand acres."
"That must have cost a fortune." I had had to stretch to buy my own small piece of property; the Wharton clan must have deep pockets. "Are game ranches profitable?"
"They can be," he said. "People spend tens of thousands of dollars for a trophy hunt."
"Tens of thousands of dollars just to shoot an animal? I don't get it."
"Me neither," he said. "I know Peter's against the whole thing on principle, but there are folks who argue these game ranches are kind of a living ark of sorts, and that the hunters provide the money to keep the genetic diversity alive."
"It still seems messed up," I said as we pulled up to the enormous metal gates. "And I still wonder what business they were in to afford all this."
"Bug told me they grew up in Buttercup, but I don't know what they did before moving back."
"Whatever it was, it looks like it was pretty lucrative," I said as Tobias rolled down the window and hit the intercom button. A moment later, the gates opened, and we rolled into the property.
As we followed the long, winding gravel road, I spotted a herd of something with long, backward-pointing horns to the left. They barely moved as we drove by; the biggest switched his tail, but otherwise they seemed unconcerned. "What are they?" I asked.
"Gazelles," Tobias said.
"Not exactly shy, are they?"
"No predators here." He sighed. "Before he died, Bug told me he'd got some kangaroos coming in, too."
"Kangaroos?"
Tobias nodded, his face grim. "And a pair of giraffes. That's what the animal-rights activists were complaining about."
"That's horrible!" I said. "Who would want to shoot a kangaroo or a giraffe?"
"I know," he said. "I almost refused to treat the animals, but I don't want them to get sick or suffer any more than they have to. It's a dilemma."
My eyes drifted to the gazelles. "They're totally unconcerned about us."
"Because they're raised by people. They're essentially tame animals."
"Who are in for a big surprise, unfortunately." My heart hurt at the thought of shooting these beautiful animals.
"It's sad, but it's legal."
"I don't feel quite so bad about Bug now," I admitted. We fell silent for a minute; then I changed the subject, telling him about what Maria had related about the house.
"It's really haunted?"
"That's what they say," I told him.
"Superstition's running high this year, it seems. There's also word of a chupacabra running around," Tobias told me.
"I heard about that,” I said. "What do you think it is?"
"Probably a coyote," Tobias said. "Keep an eye on everybody at your place; you might want to put them in at night for a while, just in case." As he spoke, we turned a bend, and the main compound of the ranch came into view.
"Nice place," I said, admiring the large log cabins arrayed around a small lake, along with a low-slung main building with a long front porch and an expensive-looking metal roof.
"It is," he said, following a small dirt road past the compound. Beyond a stand of trees was a barn and a few large pens in which a few animals with huge, curved horns huddled under a shelter. "What are those?" I asked.
"They're the animals I'm supposed to look at, I imagine," he said. "They just brought them in from Africa."
He pulled up under a tree and cut the engine, and as we got out of the truck, a wiry man in jeans, scuffed boots, and a straw hat walked over to the car.
"Hey, José," Tobias greeted him, shaking his callused hand. "How's it going?"
"Not too bad, considering," José answered.
"I'm sorry about your boss," he said.
José shrugged. "It's life. I just hope I still have a job."
"Has the sheriff been by at all?" he asked.
"Not that I know of," José said. "But the other Mr. Wharton would be the person to ask about that."
He was very guarded about his bosses, evidently. As I walked around the truck, Tobias put an arm around my shoulder. "This is my girlfriend, Lucy Resnick. Lucy, José."
"Nice to meet you," I said, shaking his callused hand. His face was tanned and weathered, and his dark eyes were quick and intelligent.
"José's in charge of all the animals here; he's been caring for livestock since he was a boy. Lucy's just starting a farm of her own."
"Hard work," he said, and I couldn't disagree. "What animals?" he asked.
"Two cows, four goats, and some chickens," I told him.
"Goats are very clever," he said. "You have to watch them."
"So's one of my cows," I said. "She likes to head to town every chance she gets."
"We've had a few escapees here, too," José said, his words slightly accented. "Someone's been cutting the fences."
"When did that start happening?" Tobias asked.
"A few weeks ago," he said. "Mr. Wharton thought it must be those protestors, or the witch ladies. They don't like the ranch very much."
"I gathered," Tobias said. "Did you get all the animals back?"
"They didn't go far," he said. "And they always come back for corn. The new ones are over here," he told Tobias, waving him toward a small pen in the lee of the barn. Three tawny animals with long horns were huddled against the side of the barn, looking nervous.
As Tobias unlocked the gate, I hung back. "I don't want to freak them out any more," I said.
"I'd feel safer with you out here anyway," he said.
I hung over the side of the fence as he and José approached the animals, talking softly so as not to scare them. They shuffled and snorted a little bit, but the two men exuded such calm and confidence they didn't run. As José put one hand on the smallest ibex's nose and talked to her in lilting Spanish, Tobias quickly did an exam. José fed her a carrot as Tobias took blood, and then they moved on to the next animal. Within twenty minutes, they had finished, and the animals frisked around a little as José and Tobias let themselves back out.
"They look good," Tobias said. "Are they eating well?"
"Not for the first few days, but they're settling in now."
"Do you have their papers?"
"In the office," José said. "Hold on; I'll get them."
As he loped off in the direction of a small trailer tucked behind the barn, I leaned over the fence and watched the animals. "I can't imagine wanting to shoot one of them."
"I know," he said. "It's strange checking their health when I know they're going to be... well, harvested. I guess it's the same with livestock, though."
As he spoke, there was the sound of raised voices from not far away. I put a hand on Tobias's arm and pulled him closer to the barn.
4
"I told you we were done," a woman said. The voice was familiar. "Please give them bac
k to me."
A man's wheedling voice answered. "You wouldn't have come here if you didn't want to be together."
"I don't want to be together," she said. "I just came to pick up my things."
"But sweetheart," he said, "we were so good together."
"It was a mistake. Just give me my stuff back..."
"Just one last kiss?"
Tobias and I exchanged glances. I peered around the side of the barn, but I couldn't see anyone.
"No. Leave me alone!"
"You came here," he said. "Besides, why would you want to go now? I told you, I'm right on the edge of making it big."
"I don't want anything from you," she said. "I'm leaving now. Good-bye."
"But honey..."
I risked another peek around the barn, but I couldn't see anyone, and there were no more voices. A moment later, José came back, carrying a sheaf of papers. "Finally found them," he told us. "I made copies for you." He looked up from the papers and noticed we were both crouched against the barn. "What's going on?"
"Oh, there was a bit of a lovers' tiff," I said. "We didn't want to interrupt."
José's weathered face went blank, and he glanced over his shoulder. "Oh. I don't know anything about that." As he spoke, there was the sound of a car engine revving, and the screech of tires. I caught a glimpse of a small green car stirring up a cloud of dust; then it was gone.
"Somebody's leaving in a hurry. Whose car is that?" I asked.
José shrugged. "I didn't see," he said, and handed Tobias the papers. "When will we know about the blood test?"
"I'll call you as soon as I hear," he said. "Again, so sorry to hear about your boss."
"Thank you," he said. "Nice to meet you, Miss Resnick," he said, nodding at me.
"Likewise," I told him.
"Mind if I show her some of the other animals?" Tobias asked.
José looked nervous. "It might be best if you didn't," he told Tobias. "With everything going on, and the new animals..." He shrugged. "Maybe another time."
"It's okay," Tobias said. "Thanks."
As he spoke, Bug Wharton's brother Mitch rounded the barn. "José, you haven't mucked out the stalls yet," he complained in a familiar voice. It was the same man we'd heard a few minutes before, cajoling an unknown woman.
Tobias and I exchanged glances as José answered, "I'm about to take care of it, Mr. Wharton. I was just helping Dr. Brandt with the ibexes."
"Dr. Brandt; always good to see you."
"Likewise; I'm sorry about your brother."
"Bad luck," he said, shaking his head. "It still hasn't really sunk in yet." Mitch seemed bigger, somehow, than he had when he was standing next to Bug the other day. "How’s the livestock looking?"
"In good shape, from what I can see," Tobias said. "Have you met my girlfriend, Lucy Resnick?" he asked.
"Pleased to meet you," he said, extending his hamlike hand to me. I shook it, wincing as he crushed my knuckles.
"I'm so sorry about your brother," I said.
"Thank you, ma'am. We're still tryin' to come to terms with it. This whole ranch was the dream of a lifetime for him. Shame he didn't get to enjoy it."
"It is. It's a beautiful place," Tobias said politely,
Mitch turned to the animals huddled in their pen. "Got a whole crew comin' all the way from Dallas this weekend," he said. "These won't be ready yet," he said, nodding at the ibexes huddled in the pen, "but we've got more oryxes than you can shake a stick at. Big racks, too."
"I've never seen an oryx before," I said.
"I'll take you out to see them," he said in a jovial tone. If he was sad about his brother, he was certainly hiding it well. "Come on; I'll give you a ride on the ATV."
I glanced over at José, who didn't look happy, but didn't argue.
"Okay," I said, and Tobias and I followed him across the courtyard to a carport with three shiny ATVs.
"Hop in," he said, and Tobias and I slid into the backseat of the nearest one while he clambered into the front and gunned the engine. I had to hold on to Tobias as he jerked the vehicle into reverse, then swung past a dismayed-looking José and into one of the pastures.
"It's a gorgeous property," Tobias said as we drove past a bend in a dry creek. Even though the ground was parched, the rolling hills, grassland, and scattered trees made for a beautiful landscape. I shivered as a gust from the north swept over the pasture, making the bleached grass ripple like the surface of a golden lake.
"It is, isn't it? My brother just fell in love with the views," he said. "It was his baby, not mine. Sad the way it worked out." For the first time, I heard something like regret in his voice.
"Do you think you'll keep the place?" Tobias asked.
"We'll see," he answered. "Look there," he said excitedly. "There's a herd of oryxes." The graceful creatures looked up, unperturbed, and then went back to grazing. "They’ll make good hunting this weekend," he said.
"How much per head?" Tobias asked.
"Ten thousand," he said proudly. "If we keep getting business the way it's been going, the place might just turn a profit."
I watched as one of the oryxes nosed at her calf, pushing her away from the ATV. It made me sad to think of the little herd being stalked by a family bristling with guns.
"This was a cattle ranch before, wasn't it?" Tobias asked.
"Two of them, in fact," Mitch answered. "We got lucky."
"A lot of property to fence," Tobias said. "How many animals do you have out here, anyway?"
"I lose track," he said as he zoomed close enough to the animals to startle them. I watched as the mother shepherded her little one away from the ATV again, feeling angry at Mitch for spooking the herd for the fun of it.
For the next twenty minutes, he drove us through the ranch, taking hard turns and seemingly enjoying scaring the animals. "It makes the hunts a little more challenging," he explained. As he jerkily rounded a bend, I spotted something in the tall grass.
"Tobias," I said, grabbing his arm and pointing.
"Stop the ATV," he said. "There's a hurt animal."
"Where?" Mitch asked, jerking the vehicle to a sudden stop. Tobias jumped out and hurried over to the tawny oryx half-hidden by tufts of grass.
"She's still alive, at least," he said, kneeling by her head. "But something got to her."
I gasped at the claw marks and puncture wounds on her left flank; they looked incredibly painful. Blood pooled on the parched ground beneath her.
Tobias did a quick examination, then looked up at Mitch. "Has anything like this happened before?"
Mitch shook his head. "Not that I've seen."
"I'm going to need to take her back to the clinic," Tobias said. "This is more than I can handle in the field."
"She's worth a pretty penny," Mitch said, "so do what you can."
"Lucy, can you stay with her while I get my bag? I'd like to get some painkillers into her, and maybe a sedative. Moving her is going to hurt; I don't want her to flail and do more damage."
"Will do," I said, sitting down next to the wounded animal and trying to exude calming energy. Her eyes were wide, and her body was twitching; it was obvious she was in terrible pain. "How long ago did this happen, do you think?"
"I'm guessing it's been a few hours," Tobias said. "I'm going to get the truck. I don't think she'll try to go anywhere. Can you stay with her for just a few minutes?"
"What if... whatever it is comes back?" I asked.
"Take this," Mitch said, pulling a shotgun from the back of the ATV.
"I don't know how to use it," I told him.
"I think I'd feel better if you stayed with Lucy," Tobias said. "I'll come back with the truck."
Tobias's take-charge tone brooked no argument. Mitch handed him the keys, and a moment later, he was speeding back toward the truck. It was only when he was out of sight that it occurred to me that I might have preferred being left on my own. I felt a stir of discomfort in my stomach; I knew there was something fishy about
Bug Wharton's death, and realized I might be more comfortable facing a mountain lion alone than Mitch Wharton.
I stroked the oryx's head, feeling nervous, and tried to make conversation. "How long have you been in the ranching business?" I asked.
"We just bought the place last year," he said. "Bug always wanted a ranch."
"I'm so sorry about what happened," I said.
"He always said, when your ticket's up, it's up."
"What did you do before you got into ranching?"
"Oh, Bug was into computers," he said vaguely. Which surprised me; he hadn't seemed like the bearded, mismatched-sock, high-tech type.
"Was he with a start-up?" I asked, thinking that would explain how he was able to afford a sprawling ranch.
"Nah," Mitch said. "Worked for a couple of agencies."
"Kind of a big transition, moving to the country."
"We grew up in the country," he told me.
"Oh, really?"
"Just up the road," he told me. "In Smithville."
"You must have missed it," I said. The poor oryx flailed a little. I put a hand on its shoulder and cooed at it as Mitch answered my question.
"We did. It's just too bad Bug isn't around to enjoy it. It was his idea to come back, after all."
"Was it?"
"Finally able to afford a ranch, and now... this." He shifted the gun from hand to hand.
"You’re thinking of keeping it, though."
"I don't know," he said, and I got the distinct feeling he didn't want to talk about it. "We'll have to see how it shakes out."
"It's got to be really tough," I said.
"At least there's plenty to keep me busy," he said. "There's this attack... and then somebody's been poaching lately."
"Poaching?"
"It's all I can think of. We've lost a few head lately."
"Could be a mountain lion," I suggested."
"A mountain lion can't drag a whole oryx off the property," he said.
"Are they shooting them, or stealing them?"
He shrugged. "It's a big property." Before he could say more, he was interrupted by the sound of Tobias's truck. The oryx's nostrils flared, and the whites showed around her eyes.
"It's okay," I crooned as Tobias hurried over to her. He injected her with an anesthetic. When she relaxed, together we loaded her into the back of the truck. "I'll give you a ride back to the entrance. Want to go with me to the clinic?"
Deadly Brew: A Dewberry Farm Mystery Page 4
