Karen Proudly Called Wildlife Officers on My Fishing — Her Face Dropped When They Shook My Hand
Chapter 8
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"I stocked this lake myself, Maria: brook trout, rainbow trout, largemouth bass. Used the same population models I built for the Little Pigeon restoration. This lake is healthier than most managed waters in the state."Kyle closed his clipboard. He looked at me, then turned to face Brenda. She was still standing at the treeline, arms crossed, but the posture had changed: the chest was no longer pushed forward; the chin had dropped. She looked like a woman watching her own plan collapse in real time."Ma'am," Kyle said—professional, measured, the way I taught him. "I've completed the field inspection. There are no violations at this location. Mr. Mercer holds a valid Tennessee fishing license. His equipment complies with all state regulations. His catch is within legal limits. There are no gill nets, no trotlines, and no evidence of commercial fishing activity. The waterway is a private, spring-fed lake located entirely within Mr. Mercer's deeded property. It is not a navigable waterway under Tennessee law and is not subject to public access provisions."He paused."Additionally, ma'am, I should inform you that Captain Dale Mercer served as district captain for TWRA Region 4 for twelve years. He supervised every wildlife officer in six counties, including myself. He designed the brook trout restoration program that won a national conservation award. And the fish in this lake are among the healthiest managed populations in East Tennessee because Captain Mercer personally stocked and maintained them using protocols he developed during his thirty-year career with this agency."Silence. The kind that has weight to it. The kind you can feel pressing against your eardrums."Furthermore, ma'am, filing a false wildlife complaint is a Class C misdemeanor under Tennessee Code 39-16-502. Filing multiple false complaints with state agencies can constitute harassment under Tennessee Code 39-17-308. This is the fourth agency complaint filed against Mr. Mercer from your address in seven months. None have resulted in findings."Brenda's mouth opened. Nothing came out. Her jaw worked like she was chewing on a sentence that wouldn't form.Then she turned, walked up the trail without a word, and the Range Rover's tires threw gravel all the way to the county road.After the dust settled, Kyle sat down on the dock beside me. Maria joined us. For a few minutes, we just watched the water. The bishops were in the shallows, motionless, hunting. A bass jumped near the far shore, catching the sunlight midair before crashing back down."Captain," Kyle said quietly, "she's not going to stop.""I know.""She filed three complaints before yours. Two other families on this road. Same pattern: false reports, county calls, agency complaints. Nothing ever sticks, but the damage is real. People get scared. One family already moved."I nodded. "How's the file?"He looked at me sideways. "You're building one.""Kyle, of course I'm building one."He smiled. "So are we."