Wicked Harvest

by Karen MacInerney

  "I heard that too," I said. "Is it possible Simon thought Felix was too much trouble?"

  She hesitated, and said. "I didn't think so, but... I just don't know." She ran her hands through her hair. "This is all just so upsetting."

  "I know," I told her. "I was kind of surprised to see you at the brewery, to be honest. I heard you and Felix had a run-in at the Hitching Post."

  She sighed. "I was drowning my sorrows. He came in with Teena, and I just... I was just upset." Her face reddened. "It's been a tough year. I haven't always handled it well. To be honest, I went to the brewery to kind of extend an olive branch."

  "Oh, yeah?"

  She nodded. "I was going to apologize for being so rude. Of course, I'm still furious about the barley thing," she said. "And the younger girlfriend. So... really. I don't know what I was doing there." The tears started again. "Maybe I just missed him."

  "I get that," I told her. I glanced over at Tobias; I could tell he had finished his examination some time ago, but was giving me time to ask questions. I smiled a quick thank you and turned back to Adriana. "Can you think of anyone else in town who might have wished Felix ill?"

  "He mouthed off a lot," she said. "Particularly when you got a few beers in him. Like I said, he was a weak man, but he liked to talk a big game."

  "Who did he mouth off to, that you remember?"

  "Max Pfeiffer, for one. Told him his beer tasted like... well, you know. Animal urine. Only in more colorful terms."

  "Nice," I said. "When was that?"

  "Oh, it happened more than once. Max would come up and start haranguing him about stealing the Pfeiffer Brewery's trademark, even though Simon figured out how to do it legally, and then Felix would get fed up and start talking back. Frank had to escort Max out of the bar one day. He hit Felix in the nose."

  "Really?"

  She nodded. "And some of the old-timers in town didn't take much to him, either. I know Max said more than once that Felix was all hat and no cattle, and wouldn't know a good beer if it bit him in the you-know-what."

  "Got it," I said.

  "It doesn't help that Max lives right down the road and gets tired of hearing all the cars and the noise from the beer garden."

  "He was at the brewery the night Felix died, wasn't he?"

  "I saw him by the pretzel stand," she said.

  I made a mental note to go and find him if I had a chance. "Did Felix date anyone else that you know of?"

  "He didn't talk much about his exes, to be honest. And they haven't been in town that long. They moved here just over a year ago, I think, but the brewery's only been open for six months or so."

  "So no ex-girlfriends, or other troubles that you know of."

  "No, but I know Simon got him out of a few scrapes in the past. Like I said, Felix gave Simon something to sell, but I also think Simon was trying to help his brother out. Which is why he was so mad when he felt like Felix was throwing it back in his face, I'm guessing."

  "Scrapes?" I asked. "What kind of scrapes?"

  She shrugged, and her eyes darted away from me. "Bad judgment stuff, I think."

  "Bad judgment? Like..."

  "I don't know," she said. "Financial stuff." She turned to Tobias. "What do you think?"

  He grimaced. "Weight loss, coats are a little rough... some swelling in the joints... they're obviously not doing well, but I don't know what the cause is. Have you noticed anything else?"

  "They hang out in the shade a lot more than usual," she said. "And it's not that hot out."

  "To be honest, I've never seen anything quite like it. I don't know what to think." He bit his lip. "Can I take a look at your pasture?"

  "What are you looking for?" she asked.

  "I'm not sure," he said. "I just want to cover all my bases." Together we headed out to the pasture, which was a relatively small portion of Adriana's holding, the rest being given over to farmland, most of which appeared to be planted in beans.

  The pasture, unfortunately, looked fairly hard-used; there wasn't much of it, and what there was was cropped practically down to the ground. There were several stands of prickly pear cactus, along with some bunches of thistles, but not a lot of anything else.

  "Grass is pretty shot," she said. "We rely on hay and feed mostly; it costs a lot, though. I'm thinking I might make some of my own hay going forward."

  "I see your beans are looking good, at least," I said, glancing over at the rows of dark green leaves. "Good for the soil, too. What are you planting this winter?"

  "Wheat, probably," she said. "But I'm not going to bother trying to sell it to Sweetwater."

  "I can see that," I said.

  "I thought about goat farming," she said, "but evidently I can't even keep cows alive, so why bother trying?" Her shoulders sagged.

  "Goats do well in this part of the world," I said. "I know your family's been in the farming business for more than a hundred years, and you probably know more than I do, but if there's anything I can do to help..."

  "Thanks," she said. "That barley really messed me up. I shouldn't have gone all in on it, but the price he was promising me..."

  "Why wouldn't he accept it, again?"

  "He said the quality wasn't there," she said. "He said he had a bunch of other brewers lined up, too, but that all evaporated once he decided the barley wasn't good enough."

  "Sounds like you took a big hit, then."

  "I did. Something's better than nothing, but it wasn't enough to cover my costs.”

  "I hope the coming year's a better year," I told her.

  "Yeah," she said morosely, but looked back at the barn. "Not shaping up too well so far, is it?"

  "They're still kicking," Tobias said, bending down to inspect some grass. "I'd like to change feed, but I know that's an extra expense. And if I could take some with me..."

  "You think it's the feed?"

  "I have no idea what it is," Tobias said, "but I'd like to start with that, if you don't mind."

  "Sure," she said, swallowing. "How much do you need?"

  "If you have a baggie, I'll just grab a cup or so. I'm going to take some hay and some grass from the pasture, too, and get all of it analyzed."

  "How much will that cost?"

  "Nominal cost," he said, waving her concern away. "Don't worry about it."

  "Are you sure?" she asked.

  He nodded. "I'll take a few samples from the cows, too."

  "What should I do in the meantime?"

  "Keep them in here," he told her. "I'd consider switching feed if you can manage it. I don't know if that's what it is, but I don't want to take chances."

  "If that's what you think," she said. "I'll go get some other feed tomorrow."

  "I'll leave a few medications for you to give them. Let me know how they're doing," he said, "and tell me if they get worse."

  "I will," she said. "Thanks for coming out. Do you think they'll be okay?"

  "I'm going to do everything I can to make it that way," he said. "Give me a call tomorrow, and let me know at once if things get worse."

  "Thanks so much for coming out, Dr. Brandt," she said. "With everything else that's gone on... if I lose these guys, it could be the end of my family's farm."

  "Then let's try to keep that from happening," he said.

  "I'll go get some baggies," she told him. "Be right back."

  "We'll be here," he told her.

  As she hurried back to the house, her hair flying in the breeze, I turned to Tobias. "What do you think it is?"

  "I have a suspicion, but I want to be sure first."

  "Are the cows going to be okay?"

  "If I'm right, and she does what I tell her to, I'm hopeful. But time will tell."

  * * *

  Tobias dropped me back off at the farmhouse a half hour later. I was just about to tackle the cheese again when the phone rang; it was Quinn.

  "Did you hear what happened?" she asked.

  I gripped the phone. "No. What?"

  "Simon
's been arrested."

  "Oh, no," I said.

  "And that's not all. You know that job Ed's been doing just west of town? The couple from Houston who's building that big modern farmhouse?"

  "He said something about having trouble with a foundation there the other day. What about it?"

  "Some of the scaffolding collapsed this morning, and Nick broke his leg."

  16

  "Is Nick going to be okay?" I asked.

  "It's just the leg, so I'm sure it'll be fine," she said.

  "Someone messed with the Ulrich house last night, too, I think... knocked down the porch roof. Do you think maybe the same person sabotaged the scaffolding at the other project?"

  "I'd say talk to Rooster about it, but good luck with that. It's a reasonable theory, though."

  "And what about Simon?" I asked. "How is the brewery going to go on with both of the partners gone?"

  "Not just that, but the assistant brewer seems to have skipped town."

  "That Billy guy?" I asked. "I didn't like him; I'm glad he's gone."

  "Yeah, well, he was the only one who had Felix's recipes. And now they're gone, too."

  "Poor Sweetwater," I said. "What are they going to do?"

  "I don't know," she said.

  "And poor Simon, too."

  "Do you really think he did in his brother?"

  "No," I said. "I know they argued, but part of the reason he started the brewery, from what I hear, may have been to give his brother a second chance."

  "Which it seems he was willing to squander, taking both of them down."

  "Maybe," I said. "But I think there's something else going on here. I just wish I knew what."

  * * *

  The Oktoberfest market was booming again that night; I found myself regretting that I hadn't spent more time making things to sell, and resolved to come up with a few more things to offer next year.

  This time, I'd left the kitten home with Chuck; when I left, the two of them were sprawled out on the couch. Chuck was patiently allowing the kitten to stalk his tail, interrupting only occasionally to groom her. Tobias called to let me know he had several after-hours calls and would make it if he could.

  "What's going on?"

  "Sick cattle everywhere," he said.

  "That's what Lotte at Heinrich Feed said.” I glanced up at the throng of people at the booth. “Shoot… I've gotta run... I'll check in later."

  I hung up and greeted the next set of customers, who were holding beers and examining my beeswax candles with interest.

  The chocolate-dipped lebkuchen went in the first half hour, and the soaps and candles were flying off the shelves, but even as I packaged up goods and added up purchases, I found myself scanning the crowd—and the front door of the Country Place Hotel—looking for Beth Collins, aka Bethany Jackson.

  As I was doing another sweep of the crowd, Teena came up to the stall.

  "Did you find anything out?" she asked.

  "Not yet," I said, "but I have some leads." As I spoke, I spotted a dark-haired woman in tailored slacks getting out of an Audi and walking up to the front door of the hotel—Beth Collins, aka Bethany Jackson. "Hey," I said to Teena. "Can you man the stall for a few? I've got someone I need to talk to."

  Teena blinked. "Sure," she said. "What do I do?"

  "Price tags are on the merchandise. Use the credit card reader," I said, shoving it at her.

  "I think I know how to use it..."

  "Do the best you can." The woman was disappearing into the door. "I'll be back shortly!"

  Without waiting for an answer, I took off across the green, sprinting past the booths and crossing the street to the front door of the hotel.

  I burst through the glass doors into the quaint lobby, surprising both Maryann, the innkeeper, who was setting the tables in the dining room for tomorrow’s breakfast, and Beth Collins, who had just started up the stairs.

  "Beth!" I said. She turned around, startled.

  "I hate to bother you, but can I talk to you for a minute?"

  Her mouth turned down into a frown. "I'm a little short on time," she said.

  "It'll only be a minute," I said, then turned to the innkeeper. "Is there somewhere private we can go to talk?"

  "My husband's studio is right next door, across the courtyard," she said. "You can go in there; it should still be open."

  "Why should I go with you?" Beth said.

  "You used to go by Bethany, didn't you?" I asked.

  She blinked. "How do you..." Her eyes darted to Maryann. "All right," she said, and followed me through the door at the end of the kitchen and through the dark courtyard to the door marked STUDIO.

  The inside was small and dark and smelled like turpentine. I fumbled for a light switch; a single bulb lit up in the middle of the room, which was lined with paintings of farm animals. A large brown cow glared at me over Beth's shoulder. "What do you know?" she demanded.

  "I know your name was originally Bethany Jackson," I said, ignoring the cow, "and that you ran a brewery in Houston with Felix Gustafson."

  She blinked quickly. "That was a long time ago," she said. "And why do you care?"

  "Someone dropped a bag of barley on Felix's head," I said. "Our sheriff arrested his brother. You knew them pretty well; do you think Simon would be capable of something like that?"

  She paled, and her hand went to the beer bottle charm on her necklace. "They arrested Simon? Why?"

  "I think the theory is Simon wanted to sign with your company and Felix didn't. So Simon decided to get his brother out of the way."

  "No," she said, shaking her head. "I can't imagine he'd do something like that." A slender gold band with a big diamond twinkled on the fourth finger of her hand as she fingered the bottle charm nervously; next to it, a sold gold band gleamed.

  "What happened between you and Felix?" I asked gently.

  "It was a long time ago," she said in a bitter voice. "I try to forget."

  "Tell me," I told her. "Please. It might help."

  She sighed. "We were young and in love, and stupid enough to think that starting a business together was a good idea. It lasted about a year before it all blew up."

  "The business? Or the relationship?"

  "Both," she said. "He's just... he was, I mean... I still can't believe he's gone." Her eyes welled with tears, and she turned away.

  "I'm so sorry." I touched her shoulder; she didn't move away. "Just because you weren't with him anymore doesn't mean you don't still care about him. He was a big part of your life."

  "He was," she choked out, shoulders shaking. "If we hadn't started that stupid business, then maybe we'd still be together."

  "You really loved him."

  "I did," she told me in a voice filled with regret.

  "Did he give you that necklace?" I asked, pointing to the gleaming bottle on a chain.

  She looked down and touched the glass. "Yes. I don't know why I still wear it; I just got used to having it on, and it's part of my profession, so..."

  "Things didn't work out between you, though."

  "No." She shook her head, a sharp, decisive movement. "I loved him. But I couldn't live with him. So I left."

  "What happened, if you don't mind my asking?"

  She let out a ragged breath. "He was always chasing something. We had to have the best ingredients, the most unusual beer... he was just looking for the magic potion. The Holy Grail of beer, so to speak. And he would never stop chasing it."

  "Hard to run a business like that."

  She snorted. "You're telling me. He hated publicity and marketing, too. Said it felt 'false,' and that the beer should sell itself." Her words were laced with bitterness. "I mean, I'm sorry, but if you can't get your magic brew into stores, nobody's going to be able to buy it."

  "And it was the same thing with Sweetwater, wasn't it?"

  She nodded, face still turned away from me. "Simon got in touch with me about a month ago. Said they were in a different place now, and he and
Felix would love the opportunity. Stupid me... I should have known better."

  "Felix didn't want to join, did he?"

  "Of course not," she said, an undertone of contempt in her voice. "Still chasing his utopian dream. Just like he did with Becca." Her voice turned flat. "I was a fool."

  "Becca?"

  "Becca was the brewer's assistant we hired. It took about a month before he was having it off with her." She let out a quick burst of sharp laughter. "Behind the fermentation tanks. So romantic, right? Anyway," she continued without prompting, "he told me that he'd spent the loan I'd managed to sweet-talk the bank into giving us to do some promotional work on a new, totally copper fermentation tank from Holland. They'd already shipped it, so he couldn't cancel the order. I ended up canceling all the advertising I'd set up, since I couldn't pay them, and the next month Felix moved in with Becca."

  "That's awful," I said.

  "Yeah. Apparently she really 'got' his vision. Supported him in ways I couldn't. So the business went under. It was registered in my name so it could be a woman-owned business, and I ended up with all the debt... and I found out after the fact that he was making thousands of dollars of personal purchases from the company account. I ended up filing for bankruptcy, and he just walked away."

  "With another woman, no less."

  "Oh, that didn't last. She must have gotten fed up with having to pay all the rent."

  "Sounds like a pattern."

  "You think?" she said bitterly, turning to look at me; her face was red, and her jaw set. "Sorry; I'm still sore about it. And now, even though he's gone, he's managed to saddle his brother with the same issue; I know Simon was struggling to pay the bills, but Felix wouldn't do a thing to help him. I wouldn't be surprised if he fouled his own beer just to scotch the deal... although I don't think he'd ever be able to bring himself to make something he did look bad."

  From what I knew of what Nick had bought at the feed store, I had to agree with her assessment. "He sounds like he was a very selfish man."