Totally Fishy (A Miller Sisters Mystery)

Gale Borger

Totally Fishy

A Miller Sisters Mystery

Book Two

Disclaimer:

Any references in this "fish tale" to real persons or places

are used in a totally "fish-titious" manner, or a whale of a tail.

Totally Fishy

A Miller Sisters Mystery

Book Two

An Echelon Press Book

All rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2011 by Gale Borger

Cover Art © Nathalie Moore

Echelon Press

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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address Echelon Press LLC.

eBook: 978-1-59080-747-7

To my rock, my favorite fish guy, and my husband, (Captain) Bob, and to Shannon, wonderful daughter and always in my corner, I love you both.

I'd like to thank the multitudes of fish keepers and hobbyists who have touched my life. Your expertise and willingness to share knows no bounds. Special thanks to Steve Schindler of Tropical Oasis Exotic Pets for getting us started in the fish hobby and to Frank Falcone, who inspired my love of Cory catfish.

Thanks also to Karen, Sean, Nathalie, and all of Echelon Press for their wealth of knowledge and never ending support. If not for you, I'd still be treading water.

1

Somewhere in the jungles of Venezuela

Slogging his way over soggy ground, tripping over tree roots the size of his thigh, and hacking his way through an endless wall of vegetation was not what Dr. Evo Castillo would call a fun-filled afternoon. Sizzling heat, accompanied by outrageous humidity, made him the main course for everything that bit, stung, or sucked blood. Hot, dirty, and pissed-off, he trudged on, thinking about air-conditioned offices and a cold American beer.

Evo hacked his way forward, muttering to himself as his temper gained momentum. "It's not like anyone is dead or anything. I really don't see what the big rush is."

He stumbled over something that was wise enough to move out of his way quickly. "Seventeen years working for Maldonado Oil and where am I?" Grumbling, Evo hacked another ten feet and stopped to wipe his brow with a soggy, gloved hand. Breathing hard, he consulted his compass and looked around, as if he could see through the thick stand of foliage in front of him. "Almost there."

His sweaty assistant, Luis gave him a hopeful grin. "Really?"

Evo looked again. "Well, sort of."

Luis sagged and shifted his backpack "Do you know where you are, Dr. Evo?"

"I'll tell you where I am." Hefting the large machete, Evo once again began the slow process of hacking his way closer to Maldonado Oil Site 151. "I'm slogging my way through five miles of Venezuelan rainforest to check out another damn anti-oil complaint."

Temper flaring, Evo grunted as he dodged another flying branch, and slashed his way forward. "Dr. E. M. Castillo–" Hack, pull, toss,
grunt
. "Renowned scientist–" Hack,
grunt
, pull, toss. "Environmental Liaison and mosquito fodder extraordinaire–Hah–
oof
."

He stumbled and fell to the ground. Kicking out, Evo tried to dislodge his foot from the stump he'd tripped over and met soft tissue instead of wood. "Damn stump!" He looked at his caught foot. "What the–"

"Dr. Evo, are you okay?"

Sitting up, Evo stared at his feet as the bile rose in his throat. "Oh, crap, I spoke too soon. Luis. Come quick!"

Crashing through the brush, Luis almost fell over Evo. He skidded to a stop and stared at the scene in front of him. "Hoo boy, Dr. Evo, that's quite a stump, all right."

Scooting backward, Evo dislodged his foot and Luis grabbed the camera. Lying in a heap on the jungle floor was a human thigh and part of a lower leg, encased in olive drab and relatively fresh.

"My God, where the heck did that come from?"

"I would think, Dr. Evo, it came from some poor dead guy, but I think the bigger question is who is he?"

"Not to mention why is his leg lying here in the jungle? Maybe the back pocket is still attached to the, uh, rest of him here. How about if you take a picture to show how we found him, call Alfredo so he can alert the authorities and I'll look for an I.D. and mark where we found his leg."

"Okay, boss." Luis pulled out the camera and snapped several pictures of the leg and the surrounding jungle. He called his brother Alfredo, who waited at the Land Rover where Evo and Luis had entered the jungle.

Alfredo sounded chipper when he answered. "Luis, good to hear your voice. Are we still on schedule?"

"Alfredo, my brother, a small glitch in our plans."

"Is there not always a glitch?" Alfredo chuckled. "What is it this time, Luis?"

"A stump."

"You call me about a stump?"

"No, no. Not a tree stump, a leg. Well, part of a human leg."

Alfredo sat up at full alert. "A leg?"

"Yup. Just his leg."

"His? You know it is a man?"

Luis lifted his hat with his free hand and scratched his head. "I think so. It looks like a manly leg to me."

"I will tell the police."

"Yes. Dr. Castillo wants you to call the authorities. We will clear the area. Tell them we have pictures and will mark the site with our emergency flags. They will be able to spot the site from the air."

"Where's the rest of the body?"

"Don't know, but Dr. Evo and I have to move on before the dark sets in, so get going."

"Okay, okay. Tell the good doctor I am on it. Give me the coordinates."

Luis recited the location of the body part and clicked off the cell phone. He wandered to where Evo stood over the leg, his hands on his hips, jaw tight. "All taken care of, Dr. Evo. Alfredo will handle it from here."

Shaking his head, Evo squinted into the sun as it began its descent to the western horizon. "Damn. We need more time. That leg could disappear any time out here. "

"We can recon the area, but a wild animal must have eaten the rest of him. I do not see a trail anywhere, so what was he doing way out here anyway?"

"I don't know, Luis, but there was no identification on the body, so we may never know. I set the flags and I have a smoke pot lit, so if the wind holds steady, they'll find the area easily. Come on, we need to get moving before dusk or we'll be jungle fodder ourselves."

Cramming his old ball cap on his head, Evo hefted his backpack and machete.

Taking his foul mood out on the plant material blocking his way, Evo wondered for the hundredth time what the heck he was doing out here. Fieldwork like this was for younger guys, fresh out of the university. Evo remembered his days newly out of school, broke, driven, and willing to do just about anything to jump-start his career and make a name for himself. He thought nothing of spending weeks under the worst conditions known to man just to spend hundreds of hours compiling research no one cared about to write a report few read, on the environmental impact of drilling in a particular area.

These days, Evo had a corner office in a beautiful high-rise in Lima that he never saw, a membership to the most posh health club in the city he never used, and a plush condominium few could afford, in which he never slept.

His little brother Tony was working on his final research project before graduating with a doctorate specializing in fisheries and soil and water management. He'd currently partnered with Dr. Samón Fernandini, a brilliant-but-bitchy tree-hugging ichthyologist with the Peruvian Environmental Agency. Tony thought she was a goddess. Evo saw her as a tight-assed, wicked-mouthed, pain in the ass–but with great tits.

Evo stopped again to catch his breath and slap a monster mosquito as he fantasized about Sam's excellent pectoral muscles. Slamming the machete into a log, he uncapped his canteen and took a long pull. Though he kept in great shape, he realized his breathing came harder than usual and he sweated like there was no tomorrow.
Must be a coincidence that I'm breathing hard and thinking about Sam's bra size. Geez, Castillo, you need to get a life
.

Letting his assistant take the lead, Evo ran a wet cloth over the back of his neck.
"
Damn this humidity."

Watching his assistant move rhythmically through the rainforest, chopping and pulling without complaint, Evo once again thanked his lucky stars he had hired Luis and his brother Alfredo all those years ago.
I need to be more like Luis. He never complains about anything. He's got to be as sore as I am, but look at him.
Chop, pull, toss, chop, pull toss
.
Evo raised his sore right arm and halted in mid-swing. A sudden muscle cramp shot pain through his shoulder and he dropped the huge blade.

Evo grabbed his shoulder and howled. "Ow, ow–damn! Shit. Shit!"

Mother Nature must have heard Evo cussing, because at that moment she set out to drown one environmental scientist in the Venezuelan jungle. The skies opened up and all thoughts of Samón Fernameanie, the bitch-thyologist from Peru, washed out of his mind. It poured as if Heaven itself turned on the holy water spigot full force.

Instantly drenched, Luis looked back to see the boss jumping around in the downpour, holding his shoulder and dancing in what looked like some wild ancient ritual. Luis opened his mouth to enquire, but thought better of it and waited for Evo to vent his temper to the sky.

Shaking his arm, Evo ranted to the jungle, "Nothing has gone right since we left Peru the day before yesterday!" Cramp easing, Evo slowed to a stop. He lifted his face to the sky, and slowly turned in a circle.

Water cascading off his body, he yelled to the tops of the trees. "Well happy horse hockey, can this day get worse?" He closed his mouth a millisecond before the bird poop fell from the tree and landed on his forehead with a resounding splat. Luis stood and watched in horror, waiting for the explosion he knew was coming.

Evo stood rooted to the ground and closed his eyes in resignation. "Thank you, I'll remember not to ask
that
again."

The torrents of rain beat down on his head. The bird poop slid over one ear and plopped onto his shoulder, leaving a gooey white trail quickly washed away by the monsoon. That corked it. Evo tore off his favorite baseball cap and spiked it into the muck at his feet. Swearing and stomping, Evo railed at the world and sent Luis diving for cover.