Totally Fishy (A Miller Sisters Mystery) (2 page)

Several wet minutes later, anger spent, Evo stared at the muddy mess at his feet. He realized too late that he would need his favorite hat later. Sighing, he dug it out of the muck and held it in front of him, rinsing it off the best he could in the rain. He slapped the filthy hat on his head.

Evo peered through the underbrush and sighed. "You can come out, Luis. I'm done now."

Luis peeked from under a banana frond and grinned. "That was a good one, Dr. Evo. You sure told off Mother Nature, no?"

"Yeah, but the bitch wins again. That's what I get for tempting the 'Yes, things c
an
get worse' theory."

Grabbing the machete, Evo resumed his trek through the muddy jungle. Taking out his frustration on the jungle flora, and trying to avoid the fauna, Evo muttered to himself, "Yep, that's what I get–nothing but water down my shirt, mud up my ass, and crapped on by Birdzilla the shit monster." He winced and grabbed his burning stomach, "Not to mention a mother of a bleeding ulcer."

Not realizing he'd stopped, Evo had become so wrapped up in self-pity he jumped and yelped when Luis tapped his shoulder. Huge, round chocolate eyes gazed up from under a dripping pith helmet. "
Senór
Evo, uh, I have been thinking. It is raining like the cats and the dogs. Can we go home now? Maybe we could try again tomorrow. Alfredo will wonder if we drowned."

Sighing, Evo checked his watch and looked at their coordinates on his GPS. His foul mood vanished. Evo pulled a slicker out of his pack and draped it over Luis. "Not on your life, my friend. We are not doing this trip again. We are going to finish here today if it kills us. It's been raining like this for almost a month, and Maldonado wanted that report on his desk last week. I'll call Alfredo on the cell and get an update on Peg Leg back there."

Luis sagged and Evo patted his shoulder. He flashed Luis a bright smile and tapped the GPS. "Look on the bright side, we're almost there."

"Wonderful." Luis tried to smile.

Evo hiked his collar and stared wide-eyed as a chunk of mud fell off his nose and slid down a front tooth. He spit out the offending mud (at least he hoped it was mud and not leftovers from Birdzilla) and tied the slicker under Luis' chin. Evo turned and tromped onward, content with the thought that his assistant must think him totally bonkers.

Fifteen minutes later, the rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun and the bugs swarmed in like it was bargain day in the human flesh department. Slapping another mosquito, Evo's good humor took another nosedive. He swore a blue streak.
This is not funny anymore.
Damn wanna-be environmentalists.
Why can't they just stay home?

"Fun and adventure, eh, Luis? Dragging our equipment through miles of rain forest, muck, and bugs–again."

"
Si, Senõr
Evo. Alfredo and I are happy to slog anywhere you go."

Evo sigh. "I know my friend, what would I do without you two?"

"Don't know, Dr. Evo, probably not have so much fun like we are now? Speaking of fun." He swatted yet another mosquito. "Why the long hike through the jungle? Are we sneaking in the back door?"

"Yes, and I'd rather not alert anyone to our coming."

Luis knew the tedious routine by heart. They'd interview a couple of locals, take a few pictures, and write
another
report to
another
special interest group who claimed their goats were dying because the sound of the drilling gave them brain cancer or something equally stupid.

Evo passed the bug repellent to Luis, who gratefully covered every exposed area of skin before handing the bottle back.

Tucking it back into a side pocket, Evo zipped the backpack and hoisted it over his shoulder, checked the GPS, and started forward. "We should be within a quarter mile."

"Oh, boy." Poor waterlogged Luis gave a world-weary sigh and moved ahead.

Evo made to follow, but found his rubber boot stuck in the mud. He grabbed the top and pulled as he lifted his foot. The boot made a sucking sound as he finally pulled it free.
Good thing I have a decent boots and hip waders
.
I'd be dead in the water without them. I even got 'em on clearance.

Evo thanked God for online shopping or he'd be traipsing through the jungle naked.
Talk about interesting public relations.
Evo shopped a plethora of wilderness outfitter stores, but considered himself a loyal Gander Mountain junkie. He sure would like to see that store in person some time. Maybe he would just take off and go to the States–Wisconsin it was. The weather would surely be better than here this time of year.

The thought of trading his present fate for millions of stars, roaring campfires, and a new
Carhart
jacket lightened his nasty mood considerably. Evo could almost smell the steak sizzling.

Hearing a shout, his thoughts crash-landed him back in the hundred-degree heat of the jungle. Luis stood up ahead waving frantically. It looked like more black mangrove slop ahead, so they must be nearing the site. He couldn't hear the drilling from here, but one could never tell by the noise in the jungle. It could echo through the rainforest for miles, or the canopies could buffer noise and make it come from a different direction all together. His mission was supposed to be a secret–allegedly it came directly from Maldonado-Nunez himself.

His immediate boss, Hector Chavez, was the only guy between Evo and Nunez. Many higher-ups thought Evo should have received that promotion six months ago, but it had gone to Chavez, and Evo had to live with it. Funny, he'd been relatively content with his job before then.

Maldonado-Nunez had been accused by various individuals and special interest groups of being a polluter and burner of rainforests. Some declared Nunez guilty of irresponsible mining practices, dumping mining refuse, oil and chemicals, a polluter of small lakes, rivers, and streams, and probably kicking puppies and pinching small children as well.

Evo's job was to investigate those charges and make any adjustments at the site or in personnel needed to rectify the situation. He was a troubleshooter and a master at conflict resolution. He worked with environmental agencies to assure compliance, as well as being a liaison between Maldonado Oil and the media, and handling problems with subcontractors and other companies on site.

Evo, however, considered himself, first and foremost, a scientist. Narrow-minded people like Fernameanie thought him a traitor to work for an oil company, but Evo had endless compassion for the preservation of all life forms and for the environments in which they exist. Working for "the enemy" allowed him the freedom to do what he did best for the natural world while keeping a finger on the pulse of a huge conglomerate, which had the power of destruction and devastation of the natural world at its fingertips.

Evo would then report back to Chavez on the situation, what steps he'd taken, and what still needed to be done to make things right.
All this for six digits, no time off, perpetually soggy clothes, and a bleeding ulcer. Oh boy, I'm livin' the dream.
He grunted as he hoisted his equipment over the last fallen tree into the clearing. He stopped dead as he took in the scene before him.

"Whoa, what the heck?" He scanned the shoreline of the lagoon. Thousands of dead fish lined the narrow vegetation-strewn beach, their silver bellies shimmering in the waning sun.

Evo neared the beach and the smell of rotting fish almost knocked him over. "
Whew-wee
. Did I say thousands? This looks more like
hundreds
of thousands."

He stepped close enough to get a good look at the dead fish. At first he couldn't believe his eyes. He picked up one tiny body and examined it. "Luis, look at this! I gotta call Tony and Sam."

Evo dumped the fish in Luis' outstretched hand. "If I'm right about this, no one in the fish world is going to believe it." He turned and trotted up the beach, dropping his pack and reaching for his cell phone.

Luis looked down at the dead fish. "What are they not going to believe, little one? That you are dead or that so many of you perished here?" He watched Evo's animated gestures as he talked on the phone and opened the backpack at the same time. Turning the little fish over in his hand, Luis became more puzzled over Evo's excitement. He shrugged. "What makes you so special, little fish? You look like a strange guppy to me." Luis turned from the beach and made his way to Evo.

Luis watched Evo unpack his portable table and testing equipment.

"Luis, I just called your brother and told him what we found. He's still waiting with the Jeep at the drop-off point. He's going to meet us at the rendezvous point in an hour. I told him we'd keep in touch. I'll try my brother again–there was no answer."

"Okay, Doc. I'll set up the testing equipment and get the camera."

The two men set up near the tree line and returned to the water. They each reached a gloved hand into the pile of dead fish and pulled random samples from along the beach. They stored each sample and labeled the containers. Luis took pictures of the shoreline, and focused the camera across the lagoon. What had originally looked like a serpentine of bubbles and small debris was revealed in the zoom lens of Luis' camera to be a long line of dead fish floating toward the shoreline where Evo and Luis watched in silence.

Luis sighed. "There are so many. What could have killed them?"

Evo shook his head. He left Luis to take more pictures, a feeling of dread coming his initial adrenaline rush caused by the thrill of discovery. His ulcer sang as his irritation rose. "What the heck could have done this?"
Could it really be the drilling this time
? Evo tried his brother's cell phone again to no avail.

Slapping his phone shut and fighting the anger rising to the surface, Evo rubbed his stinging stomach and trudged back to his portable lab. He pulled out a magnifying glass and examined his first sample.

He confirmed his initial identification of the little fish as he took in the small, streamlined body, forked tail, and bright colors. Sparkling calico patches of green, orange, black, and silver winked in the sunlight as Evo scribbled in his notebook. "Look at these."

Luis bent over the table. "They are wild guppies, no?"

"No, they're Endlers, Luis. Endler Live Bearers. They look rather like guppies, but they're supposedly extinct in the wild. This must be a cache no one knew about. What a find!"

"I am sorry, sir, but they look like guppies to me."

"It had better not be the drilling that killed them." Evo stared at the dead fish, as if waiting for them to reveal the truth. He deliberately controlled his breathing, trying to rein in his growing ire.

Luis stared at the tiny fish with its clown-like colors. "I have heard of such fish, sir. I thought the Venezuelans killed them all with lake pollution. A garbage dump runoff, yes?"

"Yes, looks like someone killed this lake too. The complaints are legitimate this time. The locals weren't crying wolf after all." Evo ripped off his glasses and pinched his nose between his fingers. He looked around for signs of runoff, tire tracks, any indication of human interference.

"Cry wolf, sir? Wolves did not do this. Maybe the oil wells…"

"Luis, I didn't mean actual wolves; it's a figure of speech." At Luis' blank stare, Evo sighed. "Never mind, my friend." He turned back to the lagoon.
Who the hell would do this?
He looked down the shoreline, hands on hips.

"So what now, Dr. Evo?"

Evo started and Luis jumped back. He dug into his backpack, pulled a water test kit from its depths, and began analyzing the water. Luis' eyes widened as the colors changed, indicating the presence of heavy metals.

Evo blew out a puff of air and ran a hand through his hair. He shook with rage as he scribbled in his notebook. When he belched and grabbed his burning stomach, Luis backed away, giving Evo room for the impending eruption which, Luis knew from experience, was again only moments away. Evo leaned both hands on the table and muttered to himself.
Here it comes
,
three, two, one, and…

"Damn poisoning sons-a-bitches!" Evo slammed his notebook shut. He spun away from the table. Luis flinched as Evo continued to yell and kick the sand, sending a spray into the air. He grabbed the mud-caked khaki ball cap from his head and slapped it against his leg. He stared at the hundreds of thousands of dead fish and flung his arms wide. "Shit," he yelled. "Shit, shit,
shit
!"

Evo fumbled in his pocket for the antacids and popped four. "This could have been the hallmark of Sam and Tony's careers. Endlers found in the wild. What a discovery. Fat lot of good this does anyone now. I can see the headlines now. Oil Interests Create Dead Endlers"

He stomped back to the makeshift lab. "This is great–just effing great." Evo began stuffing things back into their packs. "Whoever did this is going to pay."

Leaving Evo to his one-man rant, Luis backed away and quietly began to put the specimens on ice, packing them carefully to prevent further damage. He also waded into the water with a net to retrieve live fish. He used their bottled water supply to float them in breather bags, hoping some would survive the trip to the lab.

Evo looked up from his backpack to find Luis back at the shore. "Luis. What are you doing now? Those fish are a dead issue. We need to get out of here and get to the drilling site."