This one was older, much older. A county agricultural map from 1978. It showed my property, the neighboring land, the drainage corridor, and a small symbol beside the pond. Fisheries demonstration site. I leaned back.
My pond was part of a fisheries program, apparently. But I own the pond. You do? Then why would that matter? Daniel looked at me because the historical designation may explain why Silver Ridge wanted these fish moved onto your land.
I didn't like the sound of that. Not one bit. That evening, I walked around the entire pond. I noticed more tags. Some were attached to larger trout.
Others were on bass. I photographed everything. Then, near the eastern bank, I found a small plastic marker half buried in the mud. It had an old county logo on it, and underneath the logo were three words, Riverstone Aquatic Reserve. I'd never seen it before.
I called Daniel again. He told me not to touch it. The next morning, he brought a county fisheries specialist to the property. The specialist spent nearly 2 hours examining the pond. When he finished, he looked concerned.
Mr. Hayes, do you know what you've got here? Apparently not. He showed me the photographs from the tagged fish. These aren't ordinary stocking fish.
What are they? Broodstock. I waited. He explained that broodstock were mature fish specifically selected for breeding because of desirable traits. Growth rate, disease resistance, size, survival, and other characteristics.
Then he gave me a number. A number that made me look across the pond again. If these records are accurate, he said, the breeding stock currently in your pond could potentially be worth tens of thousands of dollars. I almost laughed. Tens of thousands, potentially more.
Daniel looked at him. How much more? The specialist hesitated. That depends on what the registration records show. Then he pulled out another sheet.
At the bottom was a reference to an old Riverstone Select Breeding Program. And beside it was an estimated commercial value, $286,000. I stared at the number. Karen had dumped thousands of fish into my pond. She had charged me $4,800 for doing it.
And now I was beginning to suspect that she had just put hundreds of thousands of dollars in my water. But there was one problem. If those fish really were part of a registered breeding program. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to get them out of Silver Ridge. And I was about to find out why.
Because Daniel had just opened an old county file. Inside it was a document dated 1991. And across the top were the words, "Private aquatic asset. Transfer requires owner consent. " Daniel looked at me. Robert.
I leaned forward. What? He turned the document around. Silver Ridge never had permission to move these fish. Then he pointed to the signature at the bottom.
It wasn't mine. It wasn't Karen's. It belonged to a company that according to the county records hadn't existed for nearly 15 years. And suddenly the $4,800 bill wasn't the biggest problem anymore. Someone had transferred a potentially six-figure fish operation onto my property using paperwork that might not even be valid.