by Gale Borger
"I don't want to lie down alone, Sam." In an unexpected move, Evo spun and grabbed Sam around the waist. He pressed her against the bedroom door and his lips hovered inches from hers. He looked directly into her eyes and said, "Samón, my love, normally I would fight the Devil himself for a chance to crawl into your bed, but between the drugs, the investigation, and the fact that your house is full of company, I am forced at this time to decline such a lovely invitation." He moved a fraction closer and smiled slowly. "I will however, take a rain check." He bent and kissed her.
Sam recovered from her shock and her eyes narrowed. She shoved away from him and spoke softly, venom dripping from her words. "You arrogant clod! You think that with one crook of your finger I would be ready and willing to jump into bed with you? What was your major in college again, Penis 101? Good thing you have the excuse of being on drugs, or I'd–"
"Sam, wait! I didn't mean–"
"Right. What part did you not mean? The jumping into my bed now, or jumping into it later? Perhaps when you grow up you will come to the realization that some women have more to do with their lives than to line up to become another notch on your bedpost!"
She spun and left him leaning against the door to the bedroom. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head as if trying to clear his muzzy brain. Fred went over and helped Evo back into the living room. She said through her teeth, "Evo, what the heck were you thinking? You confused and embarrassed her."
Evo gave her a drug-induced lopsided smile. "Sorry, Fred. Is that what I did? Maybe the doc gave me truth serum instead of pain drugs. I mean, how the hell else could I have been so stupid? At least I didn't totally lose it and tell her I love her, she'd probably hold that against me until I die." He snorted and didn't hear Sam's indrawn breath. She backed farther behind Fred and shamelessly eavesdropped along with the rest of us.
I could see Fred smiling wickedly and thought, oh, oh. She's really going to give poor Evo the business now.
Fred made soothing noises as she directed him to a chair. "Why can't you tell Sam you're in love with her?"
Evo's speech became a little slurred and I had to turn to hide my smile. Little did the big man know, but he had an audience of five avid listeners. He clasped Fred's hand in his good one and spilled his guts. "I can't tell her until she likes me better. You know whatsh really shhh-ad, Freddie?"
"No, Evo, what is really sad?"
He looked left and then right. He blinked slowly and raised his dilated eyes to Fred's. "I'm really, really shhhad becaushh not only am I shtupid enough to fall in love with a woman who hates me, I really like her a lot too." Fred was about to say something, but he cut her off. "No, really, Fred. Ever shinsh I met her when Tony–you know my brother Tony, isn't he the best? Anyway, I meet Sam and whammie! I'm in love with Sammie. Ha-ha, good joke on me, eh? So what do I do? Do you know what the shuave and debonair Dr. Evo Raymundo Moronez Castillo does?"
"No, Evo," Fred said gently, "What did you do?" Sam poked her from behind and Fred ignored her.
His head dropped foreword and I thought he had blessedly passed out. Suddenly, it popped up and he continued like nothing happened. "I inshulted her, and I propositioned her, That'sh what I did. Boy did I make her mad."
"You insulted her? How did you do that?"
"Oh," he sighed, "I don't know. After listening to Tony expound on her virtues non-stop every time I talked to him, I had it in my thick head that he had a think for her–I–I mean a thing for her. When I first laid eyes on her it was like being hit in the head with a log. Like being run over by a shhteamroller. Like fireworks in my brain–"
Fred interrupted. "I get it, Evo. I certainly agree that Sam is stunningly beautiful."
Evo gave Fred a pleading look and grabbed for her sleeve. He missed. "No, no; that'sh just it, Freddie. She's so much more than beauty, but did I say that? Nnnot me. I made some shtupid remark about what kind of research she did with Tony."
Sam turned red and Fred was aghast. "You didn't! No wonder she reacted like she did. And you. That's not like you, Evo. What were you thinking?"
"About weddings, and babies, and happily ever after. By the time I pulled my head out of my ass I'd destroyed any hope of a civil conversation, let alone a relashionship. I blew up like, instant and insanely jealous or I had temporary inshanity. I don't know what it was, but it certainly blew away my happily ever after."
"Your, er, happily ever after?"
His head flopped sideways and he winked at Fred. He stumbled forward and Fred guided him to the bed. "Let me tell you a she-cret." His whisper could have been heard in the next town. We all crammed in the doorway to listen. "Since that day almost two years ago when I met Sam? I have not been on so much as a shingle date, let alone knocked…nuttted…notched my damn bedpost. He clucked his tongue and winked again. "But you jusht wait and shee, Freddie old girl. I'm going to marry that woman and make about five or six little Sammonies of our own." He brightened. "And fish tanks. We'll have lots of fish so Sam has something to do while she's spawning." He laughed drunkenly at his own joke. Suddenly, he sobered and made a grab for Fred's sleeve. He missed again. "But you have to promise you won't shay any…anything to Sam. She's lessh than enamored with me at the moment." He let his head drop back on the pillow. He muttered to himself about his six little Sammies and a dog before fading into oblivion.
Another one bites the dust.
Fred propped up his bad arm and said softly, "Don't worry; your secrets are safe with me." Evo smiled and drifted off to sleep. Fred turned to all of us and giggled. "Well, that was enlightening, wasn't it?"
We all turned and stared at Sam. She stood in the kitchen door, red faced and teary eyed. She blushed furiously and tossed her hair over her shoulder. She said with feigned disdain, "Huh. Can you believe that guy?"
We all stood there like sheep, nodding in the affirmative.
Ramon said, "He sounded sincere to me."
28
Hours later, Ramon checked his watch and said, "I hate to break up such a lovely moment, but I am meeting with police officials regarding the mine. If you would excuse me, your plane will be ready after six o'clock tomorrow morning to take you home." His cell phone rang. He spoke in rapid, short sentences and hung up. "I leave in fifty minutes for the mines. The paperwork has come through and all is well."
Armand spoke up. "Please, sir, if you don't mind, I'd like to accompany you to the mines. I'm so close to the end of a very long assignment, I'd hate to miss out on the finale."
Nunez nodded. "I hoped you would suggest just that, young man." He looked at Fred and nodded, and then at me. "Ms. Miller, if you would also honor me by coming, you would be most welcome. Please do not feel obliged, but I understand from your sister that you might want to see this through."
I could only stare and nod. What the heck did Fred say while we were gone? I didn't really want to know, but I wasn't going to miss this opportunity. "Thank you," I choked out.
Fred sidled up to listen. Sam said, "We'll stay back and take care of our resident invalid. The helicopter only seats so many. I'm a fish doctor, not a cowboy–sorry, Buzz, I didn't mean you. I'm a survivor, but not cut out for a shoot out at the not-so OK Corral. I leave that to you law enforcement types. I'll stay and work on identifying the fish we picked up at the lagoon."
She turned to Fred. "You can take care of 'What's His Name' over there. You're more the nurturing type. I'm not." Sam spun on her heel to leave the room.
"But he wants you."
"Uh, yes, I think that has been established, but I also think that it would be better if you took the first watch."
Fred shrugged. "I guess that's it then." She raced across the room and caught me up in a strangle hold. I hugged her back and when she finally backed off I noticed she had tears in her eyes. "Be careful, Buzz. Mom would kill me if I didn't bring you back home."
I laughed. "You be careful as well. You might want to call J.J. and tell him we'll be delayed. Remember, those bad guys are
still trying to take out Evo. If they find out he's here, you three might be in greater danger than us. Don't go out, lock the doors, and make sure one of you keeps an eye out for trouble."
Nunez came in from the kitchen. "I have arranged for four men to watch the house. Two will be in front, and two in back. This should keep you safe."
Fred bounced across the room and grabbed Nunez up in a tight hug. He raised his brows, and then gently patted her on the back. A weepy Fred finally let him go. "Thank you, Ramon. For all you've done."
"You are welcome, little one." She hugged him again and he blushed. "You Americans are very affectionate. Not that I am complaining my dear, it's just, I am not used to so much exuberance. Most people are a little intimidated by me."
Fred looked at him questioningly. "Why would anyone be intimidated by you? You're a caring person and a good man. Your mother raised you right, and that's what impresses me, Ramon."
Nunez gently lifted Fred's chin with his index finger and gazed down at her. "And you, my dear are one in a hundred million; and I thank you." He pressed his lips to hers in an achingly sweet kiss that had us all whistling.
Evo poked his head around the corner just in time to see Sam and I each hug Ramon. Even in his groggy state, I could see his eyes grow big with recognition, then narrow in jealously.
Evo cast a sardonic look our way. "Ahem. Now that the hug fest is over, could we get on with the business at hand, please?"
Sam lifted her nose in the air. "Mr. Castillo, your sarcasm is not only unbecoming, your unwarranted jealousy indicates a certain lack of maturity which I find extremely undesirable in a grown man. Why don't you just go back to bed?" She turned tail and made a grand exit into the kitchen.
"What's up with her?" Evo muttered to himself. We couldn't help but giggle. Evidently, Evo had no recollection of his earlier romantic confessions.
About twenty minutes later, Armand, Ramon, and I piled into the car waiting in front of Sam's house and headed for the airfield. A team of silent-but-deadly looking men met us at the plane. One of them yanked my backpack from my hand and threw it into the cargo area. We boarded a helicopter, which to me looked as big as a 747, and I sat crammed between two stone-faced, surly giants wearing bandoliers over camouflaged flak jackets. I felt as out of place as a cowboy in a rock-n-roll bar in my stylish outdoor wear from Gander Mountain. At least I wasn't wearing fluorescent orange or my red Lucky Bucky ball cap. I'd have really looked dumb then.
Since I didn't understand the language, they pretty much ignored me. Armand, who sat a couple of giants down from me occasionally leaned forward and gave me the abbreviated version of what was being said. I could barely hear him over the roar of the blades and the yelling of the other men, but I understood that we were taking the helicopter to the base of the mountain, where anyone coming down the mountain or attempting to go up would have already been waylaid by a National Police Special Forces Unit and American ATF agents.
I also learned that the men in the helicopter wanted to dump Armand and me at the bottom of the mountain before they continued on their way to the mine. Armand protested hotly and Ramon stepped in and sided with Armand. I sat back, safe in the knowledge that everything would be all right and relaxed for the first time in two days. I must have been exhausted because I woke up sometime later sprawled across the guy next to me. I sat up, pushed the hair out of my eyes, and wiped the drool from the corner of my mouth. Humiliated at being found in such a predicament, I turned to apologize to him. He looked down at me, grinning from ear to ear. His gold front tooth glinted in the meager light.
Not knowing what to do, I patted his knee and said, "Gracias."
He nodded enthusiastically and patted me on the head. "Is okay," he said.
From then on, camaraderie of sorts sprang between us. I thought maybe I should have drooled on someone earlier, we'd practically be family by now. Armand told me we were nearing the bottom of the mountain. He said we wouldn't be stopping there, but continuing up by truck so as not to arouse suspicion.
We landed with a thump, and as the guys on either side of me stood. Sandwiched between them like I was, they just picked me up with them. Ramon asked me once more if I wanted to stay at the bottom of the mountain, but I guess my face gave me away and he waved me off. I had a bad moment when I saw the men piling into the back of the huge six-by-six ore trucks, but one of my new buddies grabbed my hand and dragged me to the cab of one of the trucks. He boosted me up and I became once again, a Buzz sandwich as we lumbered up the mountain.
I'd lost track of Armand when we exited the helicopter, but I knew he rode in one of the trucks behind us. The guy on my right rifled through a side compartment and came up with a dirty camouflage hat and crammed the smelly thing on my head. I could barely see over the dashboard, but I had little interest in the local scenery. I patted his arm in thanks and he flashed a toothy grin.
The long bumpy trip gave me plenty of time to think. What could a tropical fish importer have in common with an illegal mine operator? The whole scenario was totally fishy in my book. Back up, Buzz, and take things one at a time.
Mining operation; mining ore on someone else's property, chiseling ore out of the ground, moving it to a site where the precious metals could be extracted, getting it out of the country, and either financing something of magnificent proportions or laundering it in some other fashion. And don't get caught doing it. No way could it be done, but this arrogant jerk had pulled it off, until now.
Tropical fish, a billion dollar industry. Most exports go to the United States, Great Britain, and Asia. Many new species are still being discovered in oxbow lake regions in Venezuela, Columbia, and Peru. A man could make a lot of money if he were the only person to possess a new species of Corydoras and no one else could locate them. Where's the motive? It seemed a lot of trouble to go through to me. Ian had said the fish in the lagoon were not indigenous to that area by the plant material they ingested. They must have been transported in from somewhere else. Why would someone do that?
It hit me like a ton of bricks. Power. Notoriety. Hank. Hank loved his place in the spotlight in the fish world. He gloried in discovering new species. He had access to the area, and was very persistent in his questioning Ian about the Endler Live Bearers in Ian's lab. What if Hank discovered a new species of Cory and didn't want the rest of the world to know their origin until he'd pocketed millions of dollars and the fame for himself? He could mislead the rest of the world by making them think the new species of Corydoras were found in the lagoon here. The fish would spawn in small quantities, or be fished out by the competition, and Hank would be the only source in the world. What if the Endlers were just a cover crop to hide the new species of Corydoras from the rest of the world? He could cash in twice, as the Endlers were endangered but very prolific. Television time, articles to write, books to publish; now we're talking Hank MacRone! Maybe that was the source of the black smog that enveloped me when I took his hand. But how was Hank's connected to Chavez and the mine? Think, Buzz.
The diesel engine was so loud I could barely hear myself think. How could drivers stand it day in and day out? How does Armand fit into this equation? Something still didn't add up.
I watched a truck rumble past us on its way down the mountain. I wondered how long of a trip it would be to transport the ore to its final destination. They probably transported it by ship, or turned it into paper money and transported it by plane…
Plane! Holy cow, how could I have missed it? Fish are transported by plane. Paper money could be transported by plane. Fish could not go through customs, because x-rays render fish sterile. Armand was looking for an arms dealer. If the fish were transported disguising the illegal arms, the weapons wouldn't be detected because they wouldn't be x-rayed.
I grabbed my cell phone and called Armand.
"Buzz?"
"Armand, I got it figured out! I just don't have the how yet."
"Well spit it out for God's sake!"
I ran through my
theory and he added to it. "If the ore can be extracted on-site, then couldn't they transport a higher volume of product; in this case, probably gold? I'll ask Nunez how to go about exchanging large amounts of gold into paper money, but I'd bet much of it is going to finance the purchase of the arms you're after."
Armand thought a second. "Hank probably gets a piece of the pie and therefore keeps his mouth shut. Chavez might even be behind the transportation of the fish to the phony locations."
"But, Armand, where do those dead fish and the abandoned village come into play? I can't believe it's all part of a grand plan."
"I don't know, but you'd better call Sam and Fred right now."
"You're right, See you." I hung up and dialed Sam's house.
"Hello?
"Sam, it's Buzz."
"Hi, Buzz, how is it going? Where are you?"
"Going well, and on our way up the mountain. Look, I need you to check something. Would you check the world registry for Corydoras catfish and see if Hank recently discovered a new species in Venezuela?"
"Sure, Buzz, but why? He would have said something to us had he made a new discovery, wouldn't he? Wait! Are you talking about our new little guys from the poisoned lagoon?"
"Yes I am."
"Hold on and let me fire up the computer." As she turned on her laptop I proceeded to explain my theory on speakerphone. Fred and Sam went from disbelief to skepticism, to outrage as I ticked off the circumstantial evidence against their long time friend.
"Here it is," Sam exclaimed, as she pulled up an obscure ichthyologic website. Corydoras MacRoni."
"Macaroni?" I hooted. "As in elbow macaroni? As in 'and called it Macaroni?' As in macaroni and cheese? What was he thinking?"
Sam sighed. "I think Hank probably wanted his new fish pronounced Macrone-eye to make it sound more Latin. The "a" is probably a typo."
"You and I both know everyone will call them Macaroni. Hank will be a laughingstock."
