“This reporter tried to get more from the Arlington PD, but they refused to comment on any pending cases.

“This comes on the heels of two other poison-related deaths reported in the DC metro area in the past two weeks. We will keep the public informed as we learn more.”

Juan turned away from the screen. He had enough on his mind without worrying about some local crime spree. Why would someone have broken into his apartment? What could people be doing with his work, and why did he need two men watching over him?

Taking a big swig of his beer, Juan glanced at the table where his observers had settled.

One of them seemed focused on the menu while the other lowered his gaze as soon as Juan turned in his direction.

Why do I get the sense that nobody I know is giving it to me straight?

###

“I have no idea what happened,” Frank said truthfully.

Two FBI agents sat at the dining room table with him and Megan. One, a man named Carrington, wore a serious expression and held himself up with a perfect posture, reminding Frank very much of a military man.

“All I know,” Frank continued, “is that when I hiked over to the pasture first thing in the morning, all of the breeding cattle were dead.”

“Breeding cattle?” the woman agent asked. Agent Ragheb. “Is that a special type of cattle?”

“No, dear,” Megan said with a smile. “He just means they were pregnant. They were due sometime in February.”

“But there was a calf with them,” Carrington said. “Did one give birth early?”

Frank nodded. A twinge of sadness hit him as he remembered the plaintive call of the calf earlier that morning. “It happens sometimes, though usually not this early. The calf wasn’t there yesterday, but I heard it crying this morning.”

The agent’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket. “Carrington.”

Frank strained to hear the voice on the other end. “The EOD guys from Nellis are ready to blow the area, so I wanted to make sure you’re good with the samples you took.”

“Yup, we’ve got what we need. Make sure those guys realize that there’s a ranch house only a klick away.”

“Roger that, I’ll let them know.”

Carrington put his phone away. “Mr. and Mrs. O’Reilly, do you have any enemies? Anyone who would want to harm your cattle?”

Megan gasped, and Frank patted her thigh. “Agent Carrington,” he said, “we’re simple ranchers. I’ve got a daughter in college and I raise beef cattle for a living. That’s about it. If we want to have a rip-roaring time, me and some of the ranch hands might blow up some stumps with quarter-sticks of dynamite. That’s about it.”

Ragheb asked, “What about other ranchers? Any issues with them?”

“You mean, have they had cattle die-offs as well?” Frank asked.