After I Stopped Buying Their Corn, the Farmers Panicked Chapter 09

After I Stopped Buying Their Corn, the Farmers Panicked Chapter 09

The arrival of the police came through like a cold wind, and it 

knocked some sense back into the crowd. The officers gave a direct warning to the farmers who’d thrown punches, telling them they couldn’t go around assaulting citizens. They finally 

understood that I wasn’t someone they could push around 

anymore. 

I figured that, after the scare of a police report, Noah Reed 

would at least lay low for a while. 

But I’d underestimated how stubborn he was. 

A few days later, word came to me through Martin. Noah Reed wasn’t trying to salvage the corn in the fields that hadn’t fully rotted yet. He wasn’t trying to cut the losses. Instead, he’d 

made a decision that floored everyone: he was going to take 

his remaining “evidence” and file complaints against me. 

“He’s collected a whole stack of moldy–corn photos, plus 

videos of farmers crying. He says he’s going to accuse you of defrauding farmers and forcing down the prices of the whole local farm co–op.” Martin’s face had gone pale as he told me. He sounded scared. “How did that kid get this stubborn and 

reckless? You can’t just throw claims like that around.” 

When I heard it, I felt cold–and found the whole thing absurd. 

He was dragging himself and his whole co–op deeper into the 

hole. 

“Let him do it,” I told Martin. “He chose this road. He gets to 

walk it. Nobody can save him this time.” 

I told Martin and our workers to step up patrols around the 

ranch and the trucks. With Noah Reed in the mental state he 

was in, there was no telling what he might try next. 

Sure enough, two days later, I came across an anonymous post 

on a small local forum. The title was built to inflame: 

[Crying Out for Justice! Crooked Rancher Colludes with Officials to Crush Honest Corn Farmers–Where Is Justice?] 

The post selectively told the parts that benefited him and flatly twisted the rest. It painted me as a bullying business owner using information the farmers didn’t have to 

maliciously force down prices. 

At first, a handful of people who didn’t know any better posted scolding comments. But pretty quickly, cooler–headed users started spotting the holes and pushing back. 

“Where’s the contract? You say she lowballed you–where’s your proof?” 

“Failed at business and blaming someone else? Do you not 

know how markets work?” 

“This post sounds awfully one–sided. I heard you were the ones who broke the contract first and smashed up her 

property.” 

Noah Reed clearly couldn’t handle the pushback. He lost it in the comments, arguing with people, getting more aggressive by the post. The full–of–holes “victim story” didn’t kick up 

the storm he wanted. 

The failed online complaint seemed to take the last bit of 

restraint out of him. 

Late one night, the ranch’s security alarm went off in a 

piercing wail. The night–shift worker pulled up the cameras 

and saw two dark figures sneaking around near the feed warehouse by the back gate. They were carrying what looked 

like gas cans. 

The worker shouted and called the police. The two figures heard the noise, dropped what they were carrying, and bolted. 

When the workers and the responding officers got to the scene, they found two plastic cans full of gasoline and some torn rags meant for starting a fire. 

After the investigation, the two who’d run turned out to be farmers from Reed Co–op–two of Noah Reed’s most devoted backers. They confessed. They said Noah had put them up to it. He’d told them I had “cut off the whole co–op’s livelihood” and that I needed to be taught “a lesson I’d never forget.” 

Arson. 

This was no longer a business dispute. This was a crime. 

The police moved that same night and arrested Noah Reed at 

his home. When they took him in, he was still shouting wild things-“getting justice for everyone,” “rooting out the bad 

ones.” 

The evidence was clean. He’d directed others to commit arson. 

Noah Reed was finished. The law was waiting for him. 

When the news reached Reed Co–op, it hit like an earthquake. 

The old chairman collapsed on the spot and was rushed to the 

town clinic. The rest of the farmers were stunned senseless. 

They’d lost their money. The corn was rotting in the ground. The funds they’d pooled were gone. And now the “leader” 

they’d been counting on was going to prison. 

The whole co–op buckled under the weight of fear and despair. 

This time, nobody came back to make trouble at my gate. Reed 

Co–op went quiet. Regret hung over everything. 

They had finally paid the real price for their unreasonableness, 

their blind following, and their short memory for a kindness.