Blue Twilight by Jessica Speart Page B

butterflies usually found?” I questioned, refusing to give up.
    “Near their food plant, the Lotus formosissimus . It’s a diminutive weed just a few inches high that produces a pretty little yellow-and-purple flower.”
    “Then what’s been responsible for their disappearance?” I prodded, beginning to feel enormously frustrated.
    “Who said they’ve disappeared?” Trepler responded with a crafty smile. “After all, they were only ever collected at seven sites, ranging from wet meadows to sphagnum bogs. Maybe people have just been looking in the wrong spots. I happen to know of a number of coastal bluffs where small marshes occur as the result of numerous springs popping up. I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’ve seen Lotus formosissimus growing profusely in those areas.”
    Trepler emitted a throaty laugh while puffing on his cigarette. It was probably because I was staring at him with my mouth hanging open. He seemed to interpret it as a sign of concern.
    “Don’t worry. I’m not suggesting that you’ll have a problem with development in this region. Quite the contrary. You won’t. Not if you use my services.”
    Trepler leaned in so close that I could smell not only cigarette smoke, but also stale coffee on his breath.
    “You see that car out there?” he asked, pointing through the Bay window to his driveway. “Let’s just say the Lexus came as a thank-you from a very satisfied customer. That should make you more comfortable about what I’m able to deliver.”
    I remembered again what my boss had said. Trepler’s job was to make certain that endangered species didn’t bring construction projects to a halt.
    “Well, you certainly seem to know a lot about this particular butterfly,” I admitted.
    “I know a lot about many things,” Trepler responded and nonchalantly crossed his legs. “That’s why I get paid the big bucks.”
    “Then let me play devil’s advocate for a minute,” I suggested. “What if the Lotis blue were found on a particular tract of land that my employer was interested in? What then?”
    Trepler flicked his ashes into a dirty coffee cup that sat on top of an old wooden chest.
    “I’d say the butterfly was just passing through the area at the time. It would be my word as an expert against people who don’t know half as much.” He smiled, exposing a set of stained yellow teeth.
    So that was how the game was played. It couldn’t have been any more clear that Trepler was a high-priced “rent-a-scientist,” or what detractors had nicknamed a “biostitute.”
    “That all sounds well and good. There’s just one problem. Rumor has it that Fish and Wildlife recently hired a top-notch conservation biologist from Stanford to perform an extensive search for the Lotis blue in this area. I hear they’re also clamping down on the illegal collecting of butterflies.”
    “So, is that what they’ve turned into now? The butterfly gestapo?” Trepler snorted contemptuously. “That agency does nothing but go on witch hunts. Hell, they use a bunch of thugs masquerading as agents, who are nothing more than eco-Nazis. Fish and Wildlife’s an ignorant, self-serving government group that would rather spend taxpayer dollars on trumped-up charges than focus on issues that really matter. Hell, those jokers wouldn’t know a Mission blue from a Lotis blue if they tripped over one.”
    Ouch! That jab hit a bit too close to home. Mainly because it was partially true.
    “The whole lot of them are out of control, running amok while attempting to play Big Brother,” he continued to rant. “If our government had any backbone, they’d immediately shut the Fish and Wildlife Service down.”
    He certainly didn’t bother to mince words.
    “As for endangered species? Let me give you my philosophy on that topic.”
    Trepler slid an arm along the back of the couch until it was lodged directly behind my head. For one brief paranoid moment, I almost believed he knew my true identity and