EDITOR'S NOTE: Ellen Sugarman is a nationally known investigative reporter. She has given KWTN permission to serialize her new book about environmental terrorism in the Florida Keys. Here is a synopsis of previous chapters. For complete chapters, see our website: www.kwtn.com.
In Chapter 1, officials from County Code Enforcement, the Sheriff's Office and the Florida Marine Patrol— off-duty and in civilian clothes, but armed— pay an unofficial visit to property owners on Little Knockemdown Key. A few days later, the owners were cited, ordering them to tear down unpermitted structures— even though many of those structures had been there prior to the law requiring permitting.
In Chapter 2, Sugarman used Fantasy Fest as a backdrop to introduce us to her cast of characters. In Chapter 3, investigative reporter Kate Anderson hears about an allegfed conspiracy by multiple government agencies to take over private property in the Keys. In Chapter 4, she starts to look into it.
Chapter 5: Officials "raid" Little Torch Key. Chapter 6: Government officials charge a Sugarloaf resident with environmental infractions and, in Chapter 7, they take his house. Chapters 8 and 9: Kate's review of Code Enforcement records seem to reveal a pattern of deceit. Chapter 10: A lawyer tells a property owner, in jail on seemingly trumped up environmental charges, that he can get him off if he will sell his property cheap to the Conservation League.
In Chapter 11, Kate shares her suspicians with the editor of a local newspaper . Chapter 12: The editor suggests that she take a close look at Rev. Clive Farrell and the Conservation League. Kate and a freind head down to Bahama Village to hear Farrell address a meeting of Last Chance. Chapter 13: The meeting. Chapter 14: Kate meets Clive Farrell and asks for an interview. Chapters 15 and 16: The interview.
Chapter 17: Another government raid. Chapter 18: Kate does her homework. Chapters 19 and 20: She attends a Code Enforcement meeting. Chapter 21 and 22: We get a peek inside a Steering Committee meeting of the Conservation League.
Kate stood there a moment before replacing the receiver, feeling numb. Finally she hung up. She turned and looked around the room nervously, almost as though she expected to find someone, a stranger, standing there. She walked over to the back doors and peered out. When she tried to look into the garden, what she saw was her own reflection and the room behind her. She couldn't help noticing how vulnerable the glass French doors made her. She went from one to another, locking the doors and snapping the dead bolts. Picking up on her mood, Bruiser came over and followed her slowly the length of the room as she did it.
Then she went over to the stove and scraped the cold eggs onto a plate that already held a buttered hunk of Cuban bread. She opened a beer and took her meal over to the table, where she ate with no appetite. She was completely unconscious of the taste of the food, her mind was still on the phone call. She tried to shrug it off as a crank call, but didn't succeed. She kept replaying it in her head, word by word. Trying to place the caller's voice— and failing. She didn't think it was anyone she knew. Well, whoever it was, one thing was clear. Someone wanted her off the story. That someone knew her phone number and might even know where she lived.
When she finished eating, she pushed her chair back and called Bruiser. He ran over and stood staring up at her, his stump of a tail wagging vigorously. Kate bent and picked him up. He executed a couple of half turns, then settled comfortably in her lap. Kate sat for a while sipping the beer and stroking Bruiser's silky back, staring out at the darkened garden and worrying.
Yeah, somebody wanted her off the story. That much was clear and it wasn't exactly unexpected, either. Who they were, and what they were prepared to do if she continued— as she intended to, convinced that she'd only scratched the surface— remained to be seen.
Before Kate went upstairs, she made sure that every door and window was tightly locked. She left the outside lights on, back and front. In her bedroom, she closed her curtains, something she didn't normally bother about because the thick foliage around the house provided ample privacy. Then she drew a chair over to the closet and stood on it to reach the back of the top shelf. Pushing aside some shoe boxes, she found the one she wanted and took it down. She sat down on the bed and removed the top. Tucked between a platinum pair of high-heeled sandals was a blue velvet Remy Martin bag. She opened it. Inside was a .38 snub nose revolver. Kate took it out and snapped open the chamber. It was full. She closed it and put the gun in the drawer of her rattan bedside table, next to a pack of playing cards and a small leather bound journal. She didn't expect to use it, but it might help her sleep better.
She put the shoe box back on the shelf, closed the closet door, replaced the chair to its spot in front of a small desk in the corner of the room. Then she went over to the TV and put in a tape. Taking the remote and Bruiser with her, she lay down on the bed propped up by pillows and cranked up the volume. The movie was an old favorite called `Seven Years in Tibet', interesting enough to grab her attention, long and slow enough to help her fall asleep.
She was wakened by the shrill ringing of the phone. If she hadn't been sleeping, she probably wouldn't have answered it. But she picked it up reflexively and managed a mumbled, "Hello?" She was still half asleep. Except for the glow from the TV, the room was dark. The credits were rolling, Kate decided it must be pretty late.
"Is this . . .Kate?" a woman's voice asked. The voice was soft and sounded tenuous. Damn straight, she should sound tenuous, Kate thought. Calling this late. Who did she think she was, anyway?
"Who is this?" she snapped, struggling to make her voice sound convincing while she stifled a yawn.
"Let's just say, a Fan. I'm a big fan of yours. I love what you write."
"Oh, yeah? Is that so?" Kate picked up the remote and pushed `STOP', then `REWIND', and turned off the sound.
"I've especially enjoyed, well I can't honestly say enjoyed. Say, appreciated, that's better. Your stories about the landgrab. I liked them very much . . ."
Landgrab, that was good, Kate thought, squinting at the clock. It was ten thirty. "Say, Lady. Do you know what time it is?"
"You're the only reporter to get it right, so far," the woman added. Well, at least it wasn't another hate call. "I've been trying to get up my nerve to call you, it took me this long." The woman gave a nervous laugh that turned into a cough.
"What did you say your name was? And how did you get my number?" Kate's head was beginning to clear.
"We have a mutual friend," the caller replied, without giving her name. Kate decided not to push it. Something about this woman sounded serious.
"Someone I wrote about?" she asked, but the woman didn't answer. "Well, I appreciate your call. I can always use encouragement." A small show of intimacy, an apparent confidence, might elicit the same from a reluctant witness.
"If you don't mind me saying, you don't come across as a person who needs any encouragement at all. You've got the fire in the belly, that's what it takes to go after a story like this. Anyhow, that's not what this call is about, encouragement. Information. I have some information I want to give you."
Now Kate was fully awake. She switched on the lamp and reached for the pad and pen she kept beside the phone. "Okay. What have you got for me?"
That was when the caller balked. "It's complicated. And, like you said, it's really getting late. I'll call you again. Then we can have a nice long chat." The line went dead.
To be continued next week
Willing Seller is a work of fiction. The events and characters portrayed are imaginary. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is coincidental.
Ellen Sugarman's writing has appeared in publications such as Newsday, Time, Vogue, Ms., Penthouse, New York Times Magazine, the San Francisco Chronicle, the Chicago Sun Times, and the Miami Herald's Tropic Magazine.
As a freelance television producer, she has worked with ABC, Fox News, A&E and the BBC.
Several years ago, she produced a segment on environmental terrorism in the Florida Keys for ABC's 20/20. Although scheduled to run several times, the show was ultimately killed, reportedly because of pressure from the Nature Conservancy.
The program did air in the Keys, however, after activist Peter Anderson was able to obtain a videotape of the show and paid for time to run it on local cable television.
Among a number of shocking revelations, the program documents that former State Attorney Kirk Zuelch, while a member of the local Nature Conservancy board, offered to drop charges against property owners accused of environmental crimes if they would sell or give their land to the Nature Conservancy. Zuelch quickly resigned from the Nature Conservancy board after he was interviewed by 20/20.
Anderson encouraged viewers to tape the show when it ran on local TV. If you want to see this show, KWTN has a couple of loaner copies. Info: 292-2108.