Flash Flood by Susan Slater

ring in the middle.
    â€œLooks like a lot of expense to go to, but buyers like to see their purchases paraded around, compared to others. Helps some make up their minds.”
    Dan nodded and looked at poster-sized pictures, advertisements, of various breeding bulls hanging on the wall behind him.
    â€œImpressive.”
    â€œSome of the best.”
    Dan listened as Hank extolled the virtues of the bulls, giving a brief history and an update as to their whereabouts. Billy Roland’s stock was everywhere. All over the world. More than one top-grade herd got its start right here at the Double Horseshoe.
    â€œLet’s go on back to the breeding barns.”
    He let Hank lead the way through insulated steel buildings with stalls opening onto paddocks, pens filled with scrubbed-shiny calves, young bulls kept separate, some with individual handlers who worked with them daily and slept in a bunk room not far away. There was a lab, full veterinarian hospital with racks and lifts and tie-downs, and two other vets on call who had access to the operating equipment.
    â€œUsed to feed milk.” Hank was pointing to a walk-in cooler room. “Sort of a veal approach for the general herd, but now feeds are more scientifically balanced. You can get that off-the-mark growth spurt with combinations of grain, pellets, and grass. But we used to keep about thirty Guernseys, still have the milking equipment.” Dan looked through a glass window into a room with pipe stalls, rubber mats for traction and drains down the center aisle, and a jumble of hoses and stainless steel vats.
    â€œNow here’s the nursery.”
    Dan was not one to think of cattle as cute but the five little guys in the center of the room could pass for adorable without even trying.
    â€œThey’re up here for their weekly physical, weight, temperature, shot of BST—”
    â€œBST?”
    â€œRecombinant bovine somatotropin, the genetic copy of the hormone that occurs naturally in cattle but when increased through injection, gives the little guys a real kick in the rear. Growth rate is substantially higher.”
    â€œThis stuff legal?”
    â€œYou mean has the FDA approved it?” Dan nodded. “Last fall. Then slapped a moratorium on its use, then lifted that last month.” Hank paused and leaned against a freshly painted railing. “This is a crazy way to make a living. If you’re not regulated to death, you lose stock by natural disaster, or unnatural….”
    This seemed as good an opening as any, Dan took it. “Any ideas who might want to hurt Billy Roland?”
    Hank shook his head. “Whoever it was had some inside information.”
    â€œSuch as?”
    â€œOh, the worth of the stock, not just in money but in breeding potential. He hasn’t lost an animal whose death won’t be felt. Shortcake Dream, the Cisco Kid—the end result of years of work to introduce the right combinations. Can’t be duplicated.”
    â€œAnd you don’t have any idea who it could be?”
    â€œI’ve gathered the employment records, they’re in my office. Thought they might help. But, honestly? I can’t think of anyone who would want to do this.”
    â€œWhat about competitors?”
    â€œMakes sense. I’ve thought of that. But where do you look? A lot of the market is overseas. Japan, France, not to mention South America.”
    â€œSo you’re saying that the mysterious virus that killed the first two heifers could have been intentional?”
    Hank just nodded. “How’d you pick up on sucostrin succinvicholine?”
    Dan swallowed. “One of those theories that came out of an investigation back East.” He hoped he sounded convincing.
    â€œI was impressed. You know your stuff.”
    Dan didn’t quite know how to react. He hadn’t been trying to fool anyone; his knowledge was limited. It was the informant who knew his stuff.
    â€œDo you