by Laura Moore
But when the moment came for her to discuss the southern section of zone one, where the hot spot was located, Lily paused, her mouth suddenly as dry as cotton. Reaching for her glass of water, she stole a glance at Sean.
Although his expression was utterly impassive, his eyes were fixed on her. They gleamed, golden and intense. You’re incredible, Lily. Sean’s words came to her again.
She cleared her throat. “While a good portion of the town’s reef does seem to be thriving, there is a very serious development that I and my team discovered in the course of our study. We found that the southernmost section of zone one has been attacked by disease.”
As Lily clicked the mouse of her computer, she was aware that the noise level in the conference room had altered. A buzz of surprise had started. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she said, raising her voice slightly so that it cut through the noise. “If you would please direct your attention to the graph behind me. This graph shows the compositional breakdown of the sediment samples taken from the hot spot. Please note the high concentration of heavy metals and petroleum by-products.”
Lily paused, giving the committee members time to read the graph and understand the numbers, and drew a deep steadying breath. “I realize that what I’m showing you here—the high levels of pollutants in this section of the reef—comes as a great surprise to you all. More disturbing still, however, is that these contaminants have affected the health of the coral and other marine life forms. Allow me to show you slides of the hot spot taken by my photographer, Karen Masur. They reveal only too well the destruction caused by these diseases. Diseases,” she repeated heavily, “that will spread to other areas of the reef if preventive measures are not taken.”
What the hell was going on? Ferrucci wondered, shifting angrily in his chair. Had Granger fucked up or had Banyon and her pea-brained photographer managed to collect samples and take the photographs in that damned storm? He’d gone and questioned Owen Rafern himself, who’d done nothing but blubber about how badly hurt Banyon had been.
How the fuck had they gotten samples and photographs?
Ferrucci could feel the concern spreading among the other committee members as they listened to Banyon describe the different types of disease afflicting the coral. According to Banyon, they were all diseases that previous research had shown could be linked to man-made pollutants. Ferrucci’s anger grew with each slide she presented.
“Members of the reef committee,” she said, after showing them a picture of a brain coral covered with thick algal growth, “upon discovering the hot spot, I went to the marina and collected samples of the water and sediment there. Please take a look now at a comparison of core samples from the marina and from zone one.”
The photograph of the brain coral was replaced by two charts that appeared side by side on the projection screen. Underlined in red were two pollutants common to both the marina and the hot spot: petroleum and traces of a type of heavy metal that was used in the waterproof paint on the hulls of boats.
“After studying these sediment analyses, it is my considered opinion that the outflow from the Intracoastal Waterway has carried these hazardous elements from the marina and deposited them over this section of the reef. I have—”
I have to stop her, Ferrucci thought, enraged. If she kept talking, his plans for the marina would be ruined. Nobody would vote to double the marina’s size if it was thought that the source of the problem causing the damned coral to die came from there.
Ferrucci lurched to his feet. “Excuse me, Dr. Banyon,” he said loudly, ignoring the collective murmur of surprise circulating the room.
As startled as the others, Lily immediately looked over to Sean. As chairman, it was his decision whether or not to reprimand Ferrucci for interrupting the speaker.
Their eyes met and he gave the slightest shake of his head. Lily then recalled the advice he’d given her before the meeting, not to allow Ferrucci to rattle her. Obviously the “ugly” part of the meeting had begun. “I believe you had something to say, Mr. Ferrucci?” she said stiffly.
“Yes, I do. I’d like you to tell us why we should give any credence to what you’re saying. Those samples, those photographs, they could have come from anywhere.”
She gave a gasp of shock as Ferrucci’s words registered. Though she’d been expecting some sort of objection from him, Lily felt herself pale at his blatant accusation. “I assure you, Mr. Ferrucci, that these samples came from zone one of Coral Beach’s patch reef. I collected them myself.”
“Gosh, I know you’d like me to believe that,” he replied with a condescending drawl. “But I can’t. Not when I and everyone else in this room know how involved you and Mayor McDermott are.”
Lily’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “What are you implying—”
“I don’t think I need to spell that out, Dr. Banyon.” He smirked as he glanced about the room. “Let’s just say I refuse to give any weight to this nonsense you’ve been telling us—nor should anyone else in this room—not after we’ve had a scientist carefully monitoring the reef for the greater part of a year. . . .” Ferrucci’s voice died away, suddenly aware of a commotion at the back of the room. The other committee members, Banyon, too, were no longer listening.
He looked over to where their attention was directed. Fear stopped his heart, and then sent it racing madly.
“Why, Mr. Ferrucci, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Sean’s voice, though quiet, reached the far corners of the conference room. “Please continue, Mr. Ferrucci. I believe you were talking about Dr. Lesnesky. You know, I had a feeling you might mention his study today, so I arranged for him to come and address the committee himself.”
Lily was glad she was holding on to the lectern. Her legs were none too steady. What was George Hunt doing here? And how did he come to be here with this frail man in the wheelchair—this obviously desperately ill man, whom Sean had identified as none other than Abe Lesnesky. And the biggest mystery of all, when and how had Sean arranged to bring Dr. Lesnesky to the coral reef meeting? What was going on? she wondered wildly.
“Dr. Banyon,” Sean said, penetrating her confused thoughts.
With an effort she collected herself. “Yes, Mayor McDermott?” answered Lily, pleased that her voice betrayed none of her confusion.
“If you’ll be generous enough to excuse a second interruption, I believe Dr. Lesnesky would like to tell the members of this committee and the townspeople exactly why his study didn’t reveal any indication of disease in the southern section of zone one.”
“Of course,” she replied with equal formality.
“Thank you.” Sean inclined his head. “And on behalf of this entire committee, let me add that you have the town of Coral Beach’s sincere gratitude for having conducted such a thorough and systematic study. Most of us here are aware that you and your team took extraordinary measures to obtain the samples and photographs we saw today. Your commitment to this project and to protecting the environment is exemplary.” Around the room, applause started, and Sean joined in.
Lily pressed her trembling lips together and nodded in acknowledgment before walking over to her seat next to Karen.
Karen was struggling to hide a grin of triumph. Lily leaned close to her and whispered heatedly, “What’s going on here?”
“You’ll see. Sean went to New York while you were in the hospital. He did—” Karen cut her reply short.
Sean had just motioned for George and Lesnesky to approach.
“By the way, Mr. Ferrucci,” he said, as George pushed Lesnesky to the very front of the room. “It might interest you to know that Police Chief Reynolds has already had a long talk with Dr. Lesnesky.”
Lily saw Ferrucci’s face turn ashen with fear.
Her gaze flew to Sean. He gave a quick nod, confirming her suspicions. She pressed her hand to her mouth, muffling her gasp of astonished outrage as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
But as she sat and listened to Abe Lesnesky’s halting speech
, Lily felt tears prick the back of her eyes. Although she was overwhelmed with relief that the fraud had been exposed and her own study vindicated, she was also horribly saddened by this dying man’s heartbreaking confession.
When Lesnesky finished, the conference room erupted in pandemonium. Reporters rushed forward, trying to reach Lily, Sean, and Lesnesky. Two uniformed officers were already escorting Pete Ferrucci from the room.
Sean reached her before the reporters did. “Come on, Lily,” he said, grabbing her hand. “Don’t worry about Lesnesky. George and Evelyn will take care of him.”
In a mad dash, Sean led her through a maze of halls and doors. She was breathless by the time they finally reached the rear entrance.
A smile lit his handsome face as he turned to her. “God, you were fantastic, Lily. How are you feeling?”
Before she could reply, before she could catch her breath, Sean’s mouth was covering hers.
Instinctively she pressed closer, her lips parting in eager welcome. His answering groan had her smiling against his lips.
His expression was achingly tender as he raised his head to smile back at her.
“Let’s get you home, away from this zoo,” he murmured. His fingers caressed her face. “You’re still a little too pale for my peace of mind.”
“I am a little woozy, but that’s probably from shock,” she said. “Sean, will you tell me what’s been going on? How did you manage to get Lesnesky to confess to manipulating the study? It was so sad listening to him, the poor man. I nearly cried when he said that he wanted to donate the money Ferrucci had paid him to the town. And what was George doing—” She stopped in midsentence. Sean had uttered a string of curses. “What’s the matter?” she asked, alarmed.
“More reporters,” he said. “They’re heading this way. I don’t think we can avoid them. Listen, Lily, just follow my lead. You don’t have to say a word to them.”
It was intensely intimidating being surrounded this way.
She and Sean had nearly reached the car when the group of reporters descended upon them, bringing her and Sean to a reluctant halt.
They were shouting questions and snapping pictures. Lily saw video cameras aimed directly at her, like hostile eyes. The questions were coming so fast and furious Lily didn’t catch half of them.
Then one reporter out-shouted the others. “Dr. Banyon, can you give us a statement about whether you intend to press charges against Mayor McDermott?”
“What?” she gasped, stunned.
Impossibly, the shouting got louder, a relentless roar in her ears. Everything around her began to move in a strange slow-motion. She watched Sean step forward, placing himself between her and the reporters.
“Dr. Banyon has no comment on this issue, nor will she ever.” His voice sliced through the noise, the anger in it forceful enough to part the pack of reporters. Sean took advantage of their momentary reprieve to rush Lily toward the car.
Removing the keys from her nerveless fingers, he opened the door for her. Numbly, she slid behind the wheel.
He leaned over as he closed the door. “Go home, Lily,” he instructed, his tone harried. “I’m sorry, I can’t come with you now—they’d only follow us. I’ll do what I can to keep the press from hounding you.”
Lily walked into May Ellen’s kitchen. Her grandmother and Anne Prentiss were watching TV. They’d turned on the local newscast. As soon as she saw Lily, though, May Ellen reached for the remote. Lily stopped her.
“No,” she said, her voice flat and lifeless. “Let me see it, Granny.”
The TV crews at town hall must have been filming live, she thought absently as she sank into the chair, her eyes glued to the screen. It was funny how something appeared on the other side of the TV, on the other side of a camera lens. She looked pale and frightened as the reporter thrust the mike toward her, demanding to know if she intended to press charges; Sean looked as if he were about to explode with rage.
The clip ended with her driving away and Sean storming back toward the building. The newscaster took up the story. “While Dr. Banyon refuses to comment on the accusation of harassment and intimidation that she made against Mayor McDermott last week, the scandal has already begun to affect the Mayor’s political standing. Our sources inform us that these charges could force the mayor to bow out of the upcoming mayoral race. We’ll have more news for you after the break.” The face of the news anchor was replaced by a commercial for laundry detergent.
Lily laid her head on her grandmother’s kitchen table and wept.
May Ellen looked at Lily, whose shoulders were shaking with the force of her sobs, and her own eyes brimmed with tears. May Ellen stood, and, from a cupboard, took down three highball glasses. Anne rose, too, and fetched the whiskey bottle from the liquor cabinet.
Laying a hand on Lily’s shoulder, May Ellen shook it gently but insistently. “Lily, sit up.”
Anne set a glass of whiskey before her. “Drink this, Lily. You need it.” Then added dryly, “We all need it.”
The whiskey had definite restorative qualities. By the time Lily had swallowed half of it, she was able to look Anne Prentiss in the eye. “I can’t begin to tell you how terrible I feel, Anne. I didn’t mean any of those things I said.” She cringed as she recalled the words she’d hurled at Sean. “I was consumed with jealousy, angry because I’d seen him with Stacy Malloy.”
But Lily knew that was no excuse at all, and berated herself for her stupidity. Sean was an elected official, and she’d accused him in a public place of harassment.
“I only wish I’d known about this earlier,” she whispered brokenly, hanging her head. “I would have tried to stop it.”
“Sean wouldn’t let us tell you what was happening,” May Ellen told her. “He was so worried about you when you got hurt during the storm.”
“The entire situation has caused a terrible mess,” Anne said fretfully. “How I wish there wasn’t this silly fund-raiser tonight. You know politics, my dear. No one’s going to contribute to Sean’s campaign financially if they think their candidate won’t make it out of the starting gate.”
“The gala’s tonight?” She’d had no idea. Of course, when Stacy Malloy had mentioned the date, it hadn’t really registered. Lily had assumed she’d already be long gone, working on her reef regeneration project in Lucaya.
She guessed immediately why neither Sean nor anyone else had mentioned the gala to her until now. Sean had wanted to protect her from the media’s feeding frenzy. And there was bound to be lots of reporters covering tonight’s fund-raiser.
Her breath caught as a seed of hope unfurled inside her. “Are there speeches scheduled for the fund-raiser?”
“Why, yes.” Anne nodded. “There are still some people who want to talk about the good Sean’s done for this town!”
Lily jumped to her feet. “I’ve got to call Evelyn Roemer right away. Granny, where’s Kaye?”
“Why, she’s over at Dana’s, of course. Probably watching the news.”
“Can you call her on your phone and ask her to meet me at Fiona Gray’s? I’m going to need her and Fiona’s killer instincts.” She turned to Anne. “I am so sorry for the hurt I’ve caused. You have a wonderful grandson and I’m desperately in love with him. I hope you don’t mind if I shout it from the rooftops.”
Her hazel eyes misting, Anne hugged Lily. “Of course not. You go right ahead, Lily.” She pulled back to smile at her. “And you know he loves you just as deeply.”
“Yes,” Lily replied, thinking of all Sean had done for her. “Yes, I do know.”
May Ellen was beaming with happiness. “It just took you both a while to understand what some of us have known all along. Once we get this nasty business sorted out, Anne and I will begin planning a lovely wedding for the two of you—”
“Of course, we’ll have to let Dana and Kaye think they’re the ones organizing it,” Anne said with a sigh.
Lily grinned, not fooled for a second. “You know, I’m beginning t
o realize that the two of you have a great deal of talent when it comes to gently guiding people so they do exactly what you want.”
“Why, Lily, whatever gave you that idea? True, we might have rung that lovely George Hunt a few times,” May Ellen admitted with a girlish laugh.
“But we had to!” Anne chimed in. “We just couldn’t wait much longer to be great-grandmothers.”
“I’ll pass that on to Sean,” Lily promised solemnly.
“There’s a good girl.”
CHAPTER FORTY
The enormous double doors to the hotel’s ballroom were shut. Lily paused in front them and drew a breath to quiet the million butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She turned and gave a quick hug to Kaye and Simone. “Wish me luck. I’ve never done anything quite like this before.”
“Think of it as a new role, Madame Mayor,” Simone suggested with a teasing grin.
“You’ll knock their socks off, Lily,” Kaye predicted.
“That’s because you and Fiona are geniuses. Thanks for everything you’ve done, Kaye. I’m glad to have you as a friend.” Lily smiled.
“Go on with you,” Kaye laughed shakily, “before we all ruin our mascara.”
Lily opened the door and slipped inside.
Large round tables filled the ballroom with elegantly dressed people clustered around them. The guests were clapping in a round of polite applause for the last speaker.
Lily swallowed nervously, smoothed her hands against the cool crepe de chine fabric, and began winding her way toward the podium, her head held high. As she passed by, excited whispers flew from table to table. The guests had recognized her. From the far side of the room, bulbs began flashing. Deliberately, Lily made her smile extra warm and looked straight at the camera lenses trained on her.