Karen held a clipboard. You've been notified, she said. About what? Your responsibility for the fish population. I didn't put them here.
That doesn't matter anymore. I looked at the men. One carried a net. The other had a portable oxygen tank. You planning to remove them?
Karen smiled. Exactly. From my pond under emergency environmental authority. I laughed. Show me the authority.
She hesitated then handed me a letter. It was from Silver Ridge's management company. Not the county, not the wildlife department, not the state. Their own management company. I handed it back.
This isn't authority. Karen's face tightened. Robert, we're trying to protect the community. No, you're trying to clean up your problem. She stepped closer.
You don't understand what you're dealing with. I understand that you put thousands of fish in my private pond. You'll regret making this difficult. Then she pointed toward the water. You have no idea what happens if those fish reproduce.
That sentence stuck with me because it wasn't a threat. Sounded like fear. That afternoon, Daniel called. Don't let them remove anything. I wasn't planning to.
Good. Why? Because the state just confirmed something. My stomach tightened. What?
The fish aren't just registered. They're part of a commercial genetic line. I sat down. How valuable? We don't have a final valuation yet.
Give me a number. Daniel paused. Potentially between $200 and $400,000. I looked toward the pond. But that's not all.
Of course, it isn't. The breeding line has commercial licensing potential. What does that mean? It means someone could legally breed these fish, sell certified stock, and license the genetics. I thought about Karen's warning.
Then something clicked. If they're worth that much exactly, Daniel said, "Why would Karen dump them here? " There was silence. Then Daniel said, "That's what we're trying to figure out. " The following week, something unexpected happened. A man named Tom Reynolds arrived at the ranch. He was a fisheries consultant who worked with commercial aquaculture operations.
He had heard about the tagged fish through the state inspection. He asked if he could examine the pond. I agreed. For almost 3 hours, he studied the fish records, water quality, pond depth, and breeding tags. Finally, he looked at me.