I waited.
At about seven, Tansy stood up.
“I’ve got to run to church quick,” she said.
Brauner grunted. “What for?”
“The potluck on Sunday,” said Tansy. “We want to set up the tables tonight.”
“You want help?” said Brauner.
“Nah, it’s a girls’ night,” said Tansy. “We’re going out for dessert after.”
“Well, don’t stay out too late,” said Brauner.
“I won’t,” said Tansy.
“Be sure to check in with Bart and Jim on the way out,” said Brauner. I assumed they were security guards.
“I will,” said Tansy. “And don’t you spend too much time in the study. The boys can look after their own careers.”
“I’ll stop if you get home at a decent hour,” said Brauner.
“Deal,” said Tansy. She leaned down, kissed him, and walked out of the den. I wondered how much she knew about her husband’s business. Probably most of it. They had been married for thirty years, and whatever else could be said about Arnold Brauner, he wasn’t the sort of man to take a mistress. (Unlike some of his sons.)
I waited some more.
Brauner finished off his beer, grunted, slid a bookmark into his cowboy book, and got to his feet. Probably he had to take a piss and then would head to his study. I stood, still holding my Cloak spell, and followed him in silence. As I did, I picked up his Louis L’Amour book and stuck it into the interior pocket of my coat. I trailed him upstairs, into the master bedroom, and he vanished into the bathroom.
I didn’t follow him in. That would be weird.
A minute later, I heard him washing his hands, and he walked out and headed down the upstairs hallway to his office. I stepped into the bathroom and took a quick look around. It was big and luxurious, with a massive shower and a wide counter. I assumed Tansy and Brauner had separate sinks since the sink on the left was surrounded by various female cosmetics. Brauner’s side was more utilitarian, with cologne, shampoo, sunscreen, shaving cream, and so forth.
I took his toothbrush, put it in a coat pocket, and left the bathroom. I escaped from the house the same way I had entered, retreated across the lawn, levitated over the fence, Masked myself as a Homeland Security officer, and walked to my car.
I drove home, made sure that I wasn’t followed, and went to bed.
The next morning, I slept late, had a vigorous workout at our home gym, and then drove to Moran Imports.
Russell and Robert met me in the office.
My brother was looking healthier than he had before the battle in New York. He had taken up weightlifting, so he was considerably more muscular than he had been a year past. He was also a foot taller than me, which just wasn’t fair. But his hair and eyebrows were still snow-white. The High Queen had cured his frostfever in exchange for my service, so Russell was no longer in danger from the disease. But it had left his mark on him. Even with the weightlifting, his stamina was limited, so he would never be a man-at-arms. He would probably live a normal lifespan, but he would need medication to keep his blood pressure and digestion under control.
Despite all that, he seemed to have boundless energy, and threw himself into both finishing high school and starting Moran Imports. It was, in the end, his company, despite my shares. I was just managing it for him until he became a legal adult next year.
Russell was wearing jeans and a heavy hooded sweatshirt. I wore my usual outfit of a gray sweater, black jeans, running shoes, and heavy black pea coat. I also made sure to wear black leather gloves, since I was pretty sure I wouldn’t want to leave any fingerprints on certain items later this morning.
“Any more trouble?” I said, dropping into the last free chair.
Robert shook his head. “No vandalism, no trouble with Homeland Security. Patrol cars have driven past us more than usual, but nothing major. I think Brauner’s not going to make any more trouble for us until he sees how your meeting goes.” He scowled. “But I am installing those security cameras today.”
“Just as well,” I said. “We’d need that anyway.”
“Nadia,” said Russell. “Should we talk about our meeting with…”
“Nope,” I said. “Not in front of Robert.”
Russell frowned. “Isn’t that kind of rude?”
“If I don’t hear about the conversation,” said Robert in a quiet voice, “I can’t testify about it later.”
Russell considered this.
“That’s a good point,” said Russell.
“Ready?” I said. “I’ll drive.”
We left Robert in charge and walked out to my old Duluth Motors sedan. I started the engine and pulled into traffic, heading south to Brauner Farms.
“All right,” I said. “I think this is what we’re going need to do. We have to make an accommodation with Brauner.”
“Why?” said Russell. “He’s trying to extort us.”
“Yup,” I said. “But he’s powerful enough that we have to play ball with him. We can’t just make him magically disappear.” I could, but I didn’t want to commit murder. “I’m going to show him that pushing us around is a really bad idea and he doesn’t want to do it anymore. Then we need to offer him at least some carrot after the stick. Like, um, a percentage of our profit donated to the Brauner Foundation. A small percentage. Just enough to make the gesture.” Assuming Moran Imports did indeed turn a profit. “Maybe we’ll use one of his construction companies for the warehouse expansion, or we’ll work with his trucking business.”
Russell thought about this for a few miles as we drove into the Wisconsin countryside. It was a bleak November day with gusty winds. All the corn had been harvested, and from time to time, the wind blew dancing clouds of dried husks across the road.
“All right,” said Russell. “If you think that’s best. But should we really be getting involved with organized criminals like Brauner?”
“We’re not getting involved,” I said. “We’re going to scare Brauner a little, show him what happens if he keeps pushing, and then give him a carrot, so he’s mollified.” I snorted. “Half the businesses in the state donate to the Brauner Foundation. We’ll be in good company, at least.” I hesitated. “When it comes time for the carrot, I think you had better do the talking. I can get a little…”
“Forceful?” said Russell.
“I was going to say terrifying, but yeah, forceful is a nicer way of saying that,” I said. “And you’re…well, you’re nicer than I am. Better at talking to people. You’ll have a good chance of making Brauner see reason after I scare him.”
“What are you going to do to him?” said Russell.
I shrugged. I didn’t really want to confess burglary to my brother. “I borrowed a book.”
About fifteen minutes later, we arrived at Brauner Farms.
Arnold Brauner had gotten his start as a dairy farmer, and I think he was still a dairy farmer at heart. Now he owned the biggest dairy farm in Wisconsin, with something like eighteen thousand cows at any one time. We turned off a county highway and drove through a red-painted wooden arch with BRAUNER FARMS in golden letters. I saw dozens of long metal barns, and hundreds of cows wandering through pastures. There were big tanker trucks that I think hauled milk, but what did I know? I don’t know anything about dairy farming.
I drove to a building that looked like a one-story farmhouse, but a sign out front said OFFICE. A man in an overcoat stood on the porch, watching us approach, and I recognized Thomas Hawley. I parked the car in front of the house, and we got out. Hawley strode over to greet us.
“Mrs. MacCormac, welcome,” said Hawley. We shook hands, and he turned to face Russell. “Mr. Moran, good to meet you. Governor Arnold is out back. He’s looking forward to your discussion.”
We circled around the farmhouse. It was cold enough that the ground had frozen, and the grass crunched beneath our shoes. I noticed three farmhands in tan jackets following us at a distance. Brauner’s people, no doubt making sur
e we didn’t freak out and attack their boss.
I hoped Brauner didn’t freak out on us.
Arnold Brauner stood behind the farmhouse, gazing at his barns. He wore a tan work jacket similar to the farmhands/bodyguards, jeans, and old work boots. A green hat with the golden logo of a tractor company rested on his head. He turned in our direction and smiled a brilliant politician’s smile at us, but his eyes remained shrewd and as cold as the November day.
“Governor,” said Hawley. “Russell Moran and Nadia MacCormac to see you.”
“Hello, Mrs. MacCormac. Mr. Moran, good to meet you,” said Brauner. They shook hands. “Thanks for coming on down to talk.”
“What can we say, Governor?” said Russell with an easy smile. “You’re a hard man to say no to.”
“If you talk to my wife, she’ll disagree,” said Brauner, and he and Russell laughed. I didn’t. “You guys mind if we walk while we talk business? I’ve spent too much time sitting behind a desk today.”
“Sure,” said Russell. “Nadia?”
I inclined my head.
“I’ll be in the office if you need me, boss,” said Hawley. Translation: once Brauner had bullied us into accepting his terms, Hawley would have the documents ready to sign.
“That’s great, Tom,” said Brauner.
Hawley nodded and walked back into the house, and Brauner set off at a sedate pace deeper into the farm. The farmhands/bodyguards followed us at a discreet distance.
“Hell,” said Brauner, “I’d enjoy it if we had time for a proper tour. You know, of all the things I’ve done, this is my pride and joy, right here. When I inherited the place from my dad, we had a thousand acres and maybe three hundred cows, and half of them were sick.”
“What do you have now, Governor?” said Russell, picking up on the cue.
“Nineteen thousand four hundred thirty-two,” said Brauner with obvious pride. Given how hard it was to turn a profit farming, I wondered how much of the money from his illicit businesses he had funneled into this place. Maybe Brauner Farms was a giant money washing machine. “Milk, cheese, and other dairy products from Brauner Farms are sold and eaten in every state in the country. We have our own buttery and creamery and make our own cheese.”
“Cheese curds?” I said. “Seems like an efficient way to get atherosclerosis.”
Brauner ignored the insult. “Oh, yes, those too. Especially around State Fair time. People love deep-fried cheese curds.” We stopped about halfway between the office and the nearest barn, and even in the chill air, I smelled the earthy odor of cow manure. “Of course, you two are in the agriculture business as well. Importing Elven fruit to compete with homegrown American produce.”
“Technically we’re wholesalers,” I said.
“It almost happened by accident,” said Russell.
“Did it?” said Brauner.
“It was at my sister’s wedding,” said Russell. “The High Queen was a guest, which was a huge honor. One of her handmaidens brought a basket of Elven fruit as a gift. I sort of ate half of it, and when I was talking to the High Queen, I mentioned that it would be a good idea to sell the fruit stuff on Earth. She gave me a license to important Elven fruit and sell it here, and I decided to make the most of it.” Russell shrugged. “I’m never going to be a man-at-arms,” he gestured at his white hair, “so I’m always going to be an outsider. I’ll have to make my own way with my own business.”
“I admire that, I really do,” said Brauner. “Seems like you were dealt a bad hand, but you’re making the most of it. And, hey, maybe our businesses complement each other. Both Elves and humans like fruit and cheese, yeah? But I know hard it is to turn a profit in agriculture.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “The agriculture’s not a problem.” I met his gaze and offered a chilly smile. “The people are the challenging part.”
“Believe me, I know,” said Brauner. “I’ve had problems with strikes, sabotage, employee theft, eco-nuts…I even had these vegetarian protestors turn up and claim that eating cheese is a violation of the cows’ fundamental rights. Whackos.” He shook his head. “But I know how hard it is to start a business of any kind, especially an agricultural business. I thought I could help you out.”
“That’s really generous, Governor,” said Russell. He looked so earnest. “What kind of help did you have in mind?”
“Oh, all sorts of ways,” said Brauner. “You’re going to have to expand, and I have construction companies that can help with that. You need to ship your fruit quickly to market, and my trucking company has experience with it. And there are so many regulatory and compliance problems with a new business. My lawyers could write up some documents for you. If you’re having employee problems, or maybe money problems, I could help with that, too.”
“That is very generous,” said Russell, glancing at me.
I took a deep breath. It was time to put aside the carrot and bring out the stick.
“Before we get into all that,” I said, “I’m going to have to ask you for a favor, Governor.”
“What’s that?” said Brauner.
“Don’t screw with us.”
Brauner smiled an easy, confident smile. “We’re just talking.”
“Yup. We’re just talking. I’m just showing you some stuff. Tell your guys not to shoot me when I reach into my coat,” I said.
Brauner’s smile widened. “We’re only talking, Mrs. MacCormac.” But he made a small gesture with his right hand.
“Sure,” I said, and I reached into my coat, drew out the Louis L’Amour book I had taken from his table, and held it out. “Do you want to know the ending?”
Brauner’s smile vanished, and his gray brows knitted in confusion. “I know the ending. It’s one of my favorite books. I read it every year. How…”
“You might have lost this, too,” I said, and I held out his toothbrush in my other hand.
Brauner took the book and the toothbrush, confused…and I saw him get it.
Rage and alarm flickered over his face. He knew that I had been in his house. What was more, he knew that I had been in his house while he had been at home and that none of his security had detected me. Hell, he probably hadn’t even realized that anything was wrong. He had likely assumed that he had misplaced his book and his toothbrush, that he had set them down somewhere and gotten distracted.
Before he could get to the end of his train of thought, I kept talking.
“Please don’t screw with us,” I said. “I am begging you, from the bottom of my heart, not to screw with us. Because I don’t know how that will end. No, I do know how that will end, but I don’t want that on my conscience. God knows it’s already pretty crowded in there.”
Brauner looked at the book, at the toothbrush, at Russell, and then at me.
“There are rumors about you, you know, Mrs. MacCormac,” he said. His voice was calm, but his face was redder than it had been a minute ago. His bodyguards had picked up on it and were drifting closer, hands in their pockets.
“Yeah, I can imagine.”
“That video of you in New York, when you were supposed to have stopped that nuclear bomb,” said Brauner. “I thought it was just propaganda.”
“Governor, I was there,” said Russell. “That definitely happened, and that video was just a thirty second clip. A lot of other stuff happened before that, too. But we didn’t come here to make threats or anything. You’ve done a lot of great stuff for the state of Wisconsin, and we respect that.”
“If you didn’t come here to make threats, are you going to issue demands?” said Brauner.
“Not at all,” said Russell. “We’d like to donate a percentage of our profits to the Brauner Foundation.”
That caught Brauner off-guard. “Would you, now?”
“We would,” said Russell.
“Assuming there are any profits next year,” I said, though there seemed a good chance of that.
“If there are profits, we’ll commit to one percent per fiscal year,�
�� said Russell. “Net, not gross.” A smile flickered over Brauner’s face. That was a common trap for the unwary – I had even heard Riordan mention it a few times when discussing the evils of publishers.
“That’s very generous, Mr. Moran,” said Brauner. “The foundation does good work for deserving people.” People from whom Brauner wanted to collect favors, I thought, but I kept my mouth shut. The book and the toothbrush had made my point for me. “And a young company like yours, it might benefit with help from an older, more experienced business.”
Russell glanced at me. “We have been planning some warehouse expansions in the next two years. Maybe you could recommend someone?”
“Warehouses take a lot of concrete,” said Brauner. “My friends at Doyle Concrete & Construction might be able to help you out.”
“Not Doyle Concrete & Construction,” I said at once. “They have a terrible reputation. They built that building that fell down and killed some people. I’m surprised the company hasn’t been sued to oblivion.”
“That’s still under investigation,” said Brauner. “But I can understand that. Maybe we can find someone else to help you.”
We haggled for a bit and then settled on another of Brauner’s companies to help with the warehouse expansion.
“All right,” said Brauner. “I think this has been a productive meeting, don’t you? Why don’t you stay for lunch?”
“Yeah, why not?” said Russell. I repressed a grimace.
“I can have Thomas Hawley draw up some contracts before you go,” said Brauner.
“We’re not signing anything until our own lawyer looks at it,” I said.
Brauner smiled at Russell. “You’re fortunate to have such a loyal sister. Family is everything, you know.”
“I always thought so,” said Russell.
###
An hour and a half later, we left Brauner Farms with a folder full of contracts to review. I didn’t think Brauner would play games with the contracts, but best to be careful. I was pretty sure Governor Arnold and I understood each other at this point. Russell and I had been willing to play ball with him, and he knew not to screw with us.
Cloak of Wolves Page 3