Chapter 4: The Pond

The loading dock behind the co-op shed was a line of folding tables and worried faces.

Jarrett had set up under the canopy at nine sharp, with a lockbox, a clipboard and a pot of coffee for everyone.

Delaney sat beside him in her cream coat, handing out paper cups.

The growers stood in a line that curved around the first truck.

Each of them held a white envelope.

I stopped at the edge of the lot, and Joanna came to stand beside me with her arms crossed.

"Ten percent," she whispered. "Of whatever Brightwater pays them. He calls it a finder's fee."

"For finding what?"

"For being the man who made the call."

At the front of the line, the old grower with the tomatoes put his envelope in the lockbox.

His hand shook a little.

"God bless you, Mr. Pelletier," he said.

"Anytime, my friend," Jarrett said, and he patted the old man's arm.

I felt my jaw lock.

I could have walked up there and ended it in one sentence.

But the board chair had told me on the phone Friday to be sure before I swung.

Sure meant records, names, and a count of every envelope.

"Joanna," I said, low. "Tell every grower to write down what they hand over. Date, amount, no names on anything. Keep it in a drawer."

"Why?"

"Because soon somebody is going to ask for it."

She looked at me for a long moment, and then she nodded.

"Okay," she said. "Whatever you're doing, I'm in."

Dale was throwing his birthday cookout that afternoon at the farm.

I went, because the papers were ready, and because a man should serve his own.

Keep reading free with an account. Start Harvest of Ambition: A CEO's Odyssey from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.