Hot Money (18 page)

Liza regarded her doubtfully. “You don’t honestly expect the killer to confess sometime between the reading of the minutes and old business, do you?”

“I’m not even sure I expect him or her to show up.”

“Meaning?”

“We’re not dealing with a professional killer here. Whoever murdered Tessa probably did it on the spur of the moment. Unless he or she has absolutely no conscience, the person who tossed Tessa into the bay might find it incredibly awkward to be surrounded by all of her dearest friends.”

“Friends?”

“You know what I mean. Who’s on the coalition board?”

“Patrice, Mary Ann Willoughby, Helen Whorton, Jason Jeffries, Hernando Viera, and Clark Dupree are on the executive board. The overall committee is much larger. Which group do you want?”

“I’d say the executive board covers the key people. Can you meet in closed session?”

“Not really. We take the Sunshine Law to heart. All our meetings are open.”

“I suppose it doesn’t really matter. What about Roger? Can you lure him there?”

Liza considered the question, her expression thoughtful. “I suppose I could ask him so we can make the official announcement of Tessa’s memorial fund.”

Molly nodded. “Perfect.”

Liza shook her head. “Why do I think that instead of inviting them to a meeting, I should simply announce ‘let the games begin’?”

“An interesting alternative,” Molly concurred. “But this is no game. Whoever killed Tessa obviously had a lot more than we know at stake and I want to know what that was.”

Molly wouldn’t have believed the viciousness if she hadn’t been seeing it with her own eyes. A half dozen of the best-known names in Miami’s philanthropic circles—male and female—were engaged in cutthroat politics that made Republican and Democratic rivalries look like kid stuff.

Observers from several organizations had learned of the meeting of the coalition’s executive board and had shown up to stick in their two cents. Michael O’Hara and Detective Abrams, after casting pleased looks at their suspect, just back from London, were lurking in the back of the room, trying to look unobtrusive. They weren’t succeeding, but their presence definitely wasn’t hampering the discussion or Patrice MacDonald’s glares in their direction.

In the absence of a chairman, Liza explained that she had called the group together to discuss the future of the consortium of environmental activists. Their common interests should have assured a certain unanimity.

Instead, the supporters of the Everglades were casting venomous glances at the bird people, who in turn were scowling at those in support of the manatees. The representatives of one of the nation’s most active environmental preservation organizations were regarding Florida Keys protectionists with visible disdain.

Helen Whorton, Tessa’s most outspoken rival, was surveying the scene with satisfaction. From the sidelines where Molly had determinedly planted herself despite Liza’s request that she sit around the conference table, Molly guessed Helen was just waiting for the right opportunity to leap graciously into the leadership breach. She was shooting daggers at Liza because she hadn’t gotten out of the way.

Jason Jeffries, clearly an independent thinker and a member of every organization represented, winked at Liza. “Go get ‘em,” he said in what was no doubt meant to be an undertone but which boomed to the back of the room. Startled glances turned in his direction.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Liza said so softly that those present had to quiet down or risk missing something they might find irritating. “If we continue to focus on our divided loyalties, rather than the unified mission we need so desperately to complete, we will have no chance at all.”

“Well said,” Jeffries commented, waving his cigar approvingly. It was unlit in deference to Molly. “I’ll nominate you to chair this group. Who’ll second it?”

“Now wait just one minute, Jason Jeffries!” Helen Whorton glared at him. “You won’t go ramroding your opinion down our throats this time.”

“That’s right,” Mary Ann Willoughby chimed in, then looked startled that she’d found herself on the same side as Tessa’s most vociferous enemy.

“There is a motion on the floor,” Liza said firmly. “It requires a second before we can have this discussion.”

“I’ll second,” said a timid voice belonging to a woman who looked as if she ought to be traipsing the trails of the Everglades with a pair of binoculars in her hands. To get Liza’s attention, she allowed her fingers to flutter in the air for no more than an instant before demurely folding her hands in her lap again.

“Thank you,” Liza said, giving her an appreciative smile. “Now, Helen, what were you saying?”

“I was saying that I will not allow that man to push this through.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Helen, sit down and shut up,” said a tall string bean of a man who was gray from head to toe—hair, suit, socks, shoes, even his complexion had an unhealthy gray pallor. Since he’d said the first sensible thing in the past few minutes, Molly hoped he didn’t pass out before they could take a vote.

“You know perfectly well that Liza is the only one here who’s actually put her money and her time into this,” he declared with annoyance. “She’s been to the rain forests. She’s protested the haphazard forestry in Washington and Oregon. She’s been to Capitol Hill to speak out. She’s prepared position papers and lobbied Congress. What the dickens have you ever done besides yammer about it?”

Helen’s eyes widened with shock. “How dare you, Lincoln Granview? My name alone counts for plenty and I have given generous donations to these causes besides.”

“When it suited your purposes,” he countered. “You want the social power. I saw you scrambling to get in one of those pictures for the society pages in the morning paper. Plunked yourself right in there next to Tessa, even though everyone knows you hated her guts. You want to appear politically correct. But you obviously don’t give a damn about the environment or you wouldn’t have allowed your husband to strip that land in the Keys bare before he built on it.”

An outraged murmur built in the room until Molly had visions of a lynch mob being formed. Given the passion with which these people regarded their individual causes, it didn’t require a giant leap of faith to accept the possibility that one of them might have murdered Tessa if they felt she’d betrayed them. Molly could hardly wait to question Liza about how each of the attendees had interacted with the recently departed chairwoman, about how much faith they’d had in her dedication to the cause.

“That’s enough,” Liza said, quieting things down again. “The floor is open to additional nominations.” She glanced pointedly at her most vocal critic. “Helen?”

“I suppose there’s no point in my going against the majority.” She scowled first at Liza, then at Lincoln Granview, finally settling her gaze on Jason Jeffries. “You will get yours one of these days. If not here on earth, then I’m certain there’s a special hell waiting for you.”

That said, she pulled herself to her feet and stalked from the room.

“Good riddance,” Jeffries muttered. “Now let’s get on with business. Call for a vote, Liza.”

Liza frowned at him. “Jason, if you don’t stop giving me orders, people here might begin to wonder if Helen wasn’t right to object to my nomination.”

He beamed back at her approvingly. “Well said. You’ll do just fine, girl.”

Just then Ted Ryan slipped into the room and made his way straight to Molly’s side. Michael shot her a wry look as he observed the maneuver.

“What did I miss?” the journalist asked, pulling out his pocket tape recorder and a notebook.

“Liza has been nominated to chair the group. They’re about to vote.”

“Where’s the old battle-ax?” he inquired, glancing around.

Molly regarded him with feigned innocence. “Who?”

“Old lady Whorton.”

“I believe she had another pressing engagement,” Molly said, deciding that the less said in the media about today’s squabble, the better for all concerned. If Helen wanted to make a fool of herself in print, let her call Ted herself and fill him in.

With Liza’s election approved by the majority in a vote taken by secret ballot at Mary Ann’s insistence, Molly sat back and waited for the routine business of the group to be concluded.

Several mundane reports were given regarding the status of various projects. To her disappointment, none struck Molly as being particularly controversial.

Liza called for new business. When no one spoke out, she said, “We do have two things I’d like to mention. First, I would like to formally express the board’s condolences to Roger Lafferty.”

Sympathetic glances were cast in his direction. He acknowledged them with a nod.

“As many of you know, Roger graciously determined to open a memorial fund in Tessa’s honor. Hernando, I understand we have a first check for the coalition from that fund,” Liza said.

The banker stood and gave a courtly half bow in Liza’s direction. If his gaze lingered appreciatively an instant longer than necessary, Molly figured she was the only one who noticed. Caroline had planted the idea of Hernando’s interest in Liza in her head. Liza seemed oblivious.

“We owe Roger a great debt of gratitude for allowing us to establish this memorial fund in honor of his wife,” Hernando said. “Today it is my pleasure to present the coalition with a check in the amount of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, which accounts for the contributions to date. I have no doubt that with the proper administration this fund will continue to grow.”

Molly gasped at the amount that had accumulated in such a short time. She wondered if a single guilty donor had been responsible for pushing the fund well into six figures. As she wondered about that, Roger stood up.

His normally strong voice shook with emotion as he said, “I would like to thank many of you in this room for your generosity. Tessa believed deeply that we have a responsibility to preserve what nature has given us. I hope that this fund will provide support to many environmental causes and that it will make the sort of difference she would have made had she lived to see things through.”

“Hear, hear!” Jason Jeffries said, showing considerably more enthusiasm for his ex-wife in death than he had in life. “I think we should form a special task force to determine how these funds should be allocated.”

Liza glanced at Roger. “Perhaps you would like to chair such a task force.”

He regarded her uncertainly. “I’m not sure that I would be the best person …” His voice trailed off.

“Enough of that. Of course you would,” Patrice said firmly, ready to rally the troops around him now that his wife was gone. “I am willing to serve as well. Lincoln?”

“Of course.”

Liza smiled. “Then I think we have our committee.” She paused to lead the group in a round of applause for the new task force. Molly observed the others in the room closely. All seemed to be joining in wholeheartedly. It was the first time all day they’d been unified about anything.

“Now there is one more piece of business,” Liza said, her tone suddenly more grave. “Something has come to my attention just today that I think we ought to take a stand on. Yet another proposal is before the Dade County Commission regarding development in the western part of the county.”

“The wetlands?” asked one horrified listener. “Surely not again.”

“Yes, again, I’m sorry to say. There have been some changes on the federal level and local developers have taken that as a sign to try one more time to push progress straight into the Everglades.”

An outraged murmur spread around the room. “Who’s at it this time?” Patrice demanded. She glared at Clark, then looked pointedly at Michael as if willing him to share her suspicions. “I’m sure you could tell us that,” she told Clark. “You’re probably representing the devils.”

“No, I am not,” he said, returning her scowl without flinching.

From the sparks flying between the two, Molly figured it was safe to assume that the pair had removed the kid gloves and intended an all-out battle of wills.

“Stop pussyfooting around, Clark,” Patrice demanded. “You know perfectly well that if there’s a dollar to be made on development in this town, you know the players.”

“I do stay on top of things, yes,” he said agreeably. “That’s not a crime, Patrice. It’s a civic responsibility. You should do the same.”

“I’d say ‘on top’ is the wrong phrase. ‘In the middle’ would be more like it.” She sat back with a satisfied smirk.

Liza apparently decided that the squabble wasn’t gaining the group a single bit of information and might well deteriorate into something truly ugly.

“Enough, you two,” she said quietly. “I just learned about this today and didn’t have time to research it myself. The person who called me right before the meeting did mention the name of the company, Danson Properties, Inc. Has anyone ever heard of it?”

No one acknowledged being familiar with the company. Molly kept her gaze pinned on Clark Dupree, but his expression remained stoic. She couldn’t help wondering if the look expressed genuine bafflement or had been perfected to keep from revealing too much. It certainly would be handy in a courtroom. Either way it was clear that details would not be forthcoming from him.

“Would anyone like to propose a statement for the media regarding our stance on this?” Liza suggested.

“Perhaps we should consider getting more information before we go off half-cocked,” Clark Dupree suggested mildly. He avoided Patrice’s gaze when he said it.

“Of course you’d want us to remain silent,” she snapped. “The less said by the opposition, the better to get county approval.”

“No,” Liza said reasonably. “What Clark suggests makes sense. We don’t want to get a reputation for crying wolf, unless the proposed development is truly a threat to the Everglades. Why don’t I look into it and then we can schedule another meeting for next week to firm up our position?”

“What if the commission decides to ramrod it through before that?” Lincoln Granview demanded.

“Any resolution would require more than one reading before the commission,” Liza reminded him. “We’re not even sure if this has zoning or planning approval. I’ll check it out as soon as we leave here today. If I find out it’s further along in the process than that, I will notify each of you and we can make plans to appear before the commission to outline our objections. In the meantime, if you require inspiration to remind you of what the fight is all about, reread
River of Grass
. Marjorie Stoneman Douglas said it all in her classic book on the Everglades.”