The scent of manure and freshly cut timber wafted through the barn where the ranchers had been gathered, many of them with bloodshot eyes and stunned expressions.
Nate looked to Carlos, the translator. “Is everyone ready?”
The translator addressed the ranchers sitting on wooden benches. “¿Estan listos?”
The men nodded.
“Okay, let’s begin.” As Nate spoke, Carlos translated for the Spanish speakers among them. “Men, I realize today is probably one of the most difficult days of your life. You have lost coworkers, friends, maybe even family. None of this should have happened, and none of it is your fault.”
He paused for effect. “I’m going to share with you a secret.
“This isn’t the first time an event like this has occurred. One thing we do know… someone has created a poison.”
The men stiffened with expressions of shock.
“I’m going to need your help to understand what exactly happened today, so we can prevent it from happening again. Any little detail may be the key to solving this mystery. So I’m going to ask you some questions, and I want you to tell me everything you can. Okay?”
Carlos finished translating, and the men nodded. “Si.”
“Good. Let’s start from the beginning: how early in the morning did work begin today?”
The translator finished talking seconds after Nate did and the men in the semicircle began talking amongst themselves. They all began pointing to two men sitting next to each other.
Nate’s gaze pored over them: they had walnut complexions and leathery skin. They were clearly related, and just as clearly, they’d spent most of their forty or so years outdoors. Together, they spoke to Carlos.
The two men looked very much alike and began speaking in Spanish, both using similar gesticulations as they tried to express themselves both verbally and visually.
Carlos summarized for Nate. “These two brothers are the eldest sons of the man who owned the ranch. They were the first to arrive this morning—at about five. They did the usual chores: putting out bales of hay, clearing the drains in the water troughs, checking on the overall state of the herd. They claim no calves had been born during the night.”
“Were there any births yesterday or maybe earlier in the week?” Nate asked.
Several men nodded affirmatively.
“Was there anything different about the cows that gave birth today?” Nate asked.
The men all began talking loudly at once, and Carlos did his best to capture the essence of the discussions.
“The first cow was brown with a black tail. The second one was a white-spotted cow. She had been sick after getting pregnant, and needed Señor Garcia’s treatments.”
“Treatments?” Nate asked.
Carlos relayed the question, then again summarized the men’s response.
“Señor Garcia, the owner, had a traditional remedy for sick cows. It helps prevent miscarriage and gives heifers more health for their first birth.”
“Gives heifers more health?” Nate muttered. “The cows that gave birth today, did they all have this treatment?”
Some of the ranch hands nodded while others shook their heads.
Carlos shrugged. “Most of the men say yes but others aren’t sure.”
Nate shook his head and admitted, “I have no idea how these men can remember one cow from another.”
Alex had been quietly monitoring all this from one side of the barn, but now chimed in. “Where is Señor Garcia? I’d like to talk to him about this treatment.”
The men’s expressions turned somber. One of them spoke directly to Alex. “Señor Garcia es muerto. He is dead.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Alex said quietly. “Carlos, can you ask them what they know about the treatment? Anything at all? Was it a food? Some kind of shot?”
The men spoke, and Carlos said, “Señor Garcia had a special barrel that the cows drank from.”
“Can we see it?”
The two brothers nodded and stood.
“These men say they will show you,” Carlos said.
###
Nate’s mind was racing with questions as the men led them across a large field. The smell of burnt grass and death still lingered over everything, even though the incident had occurred almost three miles away. One of the brothers lifted a wooden beam off of metal hooks, swung open a barn door, and said something in Spanish.
Carlos translated. “This is where the sick cows came to get treated.” He pointed at the two men who’d led them to the barn and said, “Señor Garcia only let Ramon and Francisco in here, because he didn’t want his secrets stolen.”
“Makes sense,” Nate said as he entered the large odd-smelling barn and wrinkled his nose. “It almost smells like spilled beer in here.”
One of the brothers smiled and put a finger to his lips. The translator relayed, “A secret ingredient. Makes the cow hungry. The Japanese do similar things.”
Scanning the vast, nearly empty barn, he spotted a large wooden barrel and pointed in its direction. “Is this what you give the sick cows?”
The brothers led them to the barrel. Its lid was locked in place with a heavy padlock. They removed the lock, then opened the lid.
The musty stench of old beer and urine wafted upward. The brothers chuckled when Alex made a gagging sound, handed Nate the evidence collection bag, and backed away with a look of disgust.
Opening the duffel, Nate gave her a sideways glance and muttered, “I’m guessing you want me to do this?”
Alex fled to the far end of the barn without even answering.
Inside the barrel was a brown sludge. One of the men handed Nate a ladle, and he used it to scoop up some of the wretched goop.
“Do you know any of what’s in this?” Nate asked.
Carlos went back and forth with the brothers for a minute. “It contains beer, water, and ‘traditional herbs’—though they claim they don’t know what those herbs were.”
Nate sealed up a sample of the “medicine,” and the brothers locked up the barrel.
“What’s this?” Alex said from across the barn. She was standing beside a small metal box with a spout on one side.
The brothers began talking, and Carlos said, “It was left over from when Señor Garcia had cancer. It had his medicine.”
Nate walked over and studied the thing. It was roughly the size of a desktop computer, painted black, with a chrome spout that had a twist handle. A hose extended from the back and attached to a water tap.
Alex leaned in and whispered, “I saw something like this on the O’Reillys’ kitchen counter.”
Nate’s pulse quickened.
He turned to the two brothers. “We’re taking this in for evidence.”
###
“Good to see you, Juan,” said Nate Carrington as he walked into the FBI lab with a large cardboard box.
“It would be better if it could have waited until morning,” Juan said, bleary-eyed. He had been sound asleep when Nate called and asked to meet him at the lab right away.
“Sorry about that. I literally just flew in from Buenos Aires. We had another incident like the one in Nevada. Once again, it started when calves were born—several of them this time. Basically, as soon as they were born, anything nearby, including the calf’s mother, perished. All in all, over a thousand cattle and thirteen ranchers died.”
“Oh my God.”
With his mind fully engaged, Juan stared intently as Nate leaned forward and patted the large cardboard box.
“Yeah. We collected over five hundred pounds of evidence, and it’s being delivered here from Joint Base Andrews. It’s slated for the biocontainment lab. But before that arrives…”
He opened the box, which smelled of barnyard, and removed two items: a box with a spout, and a clear plastic bag that held several containers of soupy brown sludge.
“What is this?” Juan asked, scrunching his face. “It looks like a watery bowel movement.”
Nate chuckled. “Trust me, it smells like something that came straight out of hell, but evidently it’s a concoction that the rancher had fed several of the cows—a secret ‘medicine.’ We have no particular reason to think it’s related to the incident, but as a forensic analyst, I know not to dismiss things out of hand.”
In Juan’s mind, he was already thinking about what kind of experiments he might employ to see if this was the cause of the disaster or not. “Did the Nevada rancher have goop like this?”
Nate shook his head. “No, he didn’t. But…” He patted the box with the spout. “We did see this at both places.”
“What is it?”
Nate twisted the box around so that Juan could see the profile of both the spigot coming out the front and a rubberized hose coming out the back. “I was kind of hoping you’d be able to tell me. The Argentinian ranchers didn’t know, and the guy who owned it was among the dead.” Nate patted at the hose in the back. “This was attached to a water tap.”
“Well, if this thing was at both disaster locations, that makes it potentially interesting. Did you guys look inside?”
“We didn’t want to even breathe on it until we got it back to the lab, just in case.”
“Is it okay if I open it up now?”
Nate smiled. “That’s the idea.” He pulled out a Swiss Army knife, extended the Phillips-head screwdriver, and handed it over.
Juan removed some screws from the back of the box, then flipped up the top, which was on a hinge. The first thing his eyes were drawn to was a stencil on the inside of the lid.
Property of AgriMed Global.