The Willing Seller is about environmental terrorism by our government. It is fiction based on truth. Here's how to access previous chapters on line: Visit www.kwtn.com/news/fiction. That will take you to our fiction index. Double click on "Willing Seller." That will take you to the index of chapters. Click on the chapter you want to read. To get back to the chapter index, click on your "back" arrow.
"It's a swell time, I'm taking a breather." Kate smiled as she said it, thinking. Taking a breather from what exactly? Drinking? "No, we can talk now." She sat down at the desk, picked up a pen and tore off the used top page from a tablet. "I'm glad you called. I've been thinking about you."
"Me, too. I've been thinking about you . . ." Kate forced herself to keep still so that the woman would feel a compulsion to break the silence. It worked. "I know now that I can trust you." She must have made some calls, checked Kate out. "Please don't be insulted when I say that, I have to be careful," the caller added hastily.
"I'm not insulted. Of course you have to. I understand." Get to the point, Kate urged her mentally. Tell me WHY you have to be careful. "So, you have a story you want to tell me. I promise whatever you say will be completely confidential."
"Good. My story, what I have to tell you, well it's . . . complicated. As you've probably already guessed, it concerns the subject you've been covering."
"The landgrab?" Kate asked, using the woman's own words.
"The landgrab? Right." The woman clammed up again.
"Where do you live?" Kate asked, chancing a question to keep things moving.
"The property is in the lower Keys. It's family property, been in my family for generations." Kate heard the woman let her breath out, as though she'd been holding it. Probably from nerves. There was another sound, too. The clink of ice in a glass. Her caller was having a drink. That raised a red flag. There was always the possibility she was just a boozer with time on her hands— but somehow Kate thought not.
"Have you lived in the Keys long?" she asked, trying to picture the woman. The voice sounded young, but the phrasing, the hesitancy . . . they made her think of someone older, cautious. Someone who'd been burned. She imagined a small stocky gray-haired woman who wasn't in the habit of calling reporters. She knew something, she'd seen something or overheard it. But she wasn't sure it was safe to talk about it.
"All my life. I was born in Marathon. We moved to Little Torch when I was a wee one. There, I've given you some facts. I figure I owe you that much, you've been extremely patient."
"Thanks," Kate said. Then she added, "You know, I'm not twisting your arm. I don't want you to think I am. I'm here and I'm listening. Maybe I can help . . ."
"Oh, I'm sure you can help. That's why I called you in the first place. Others, if not myself. My case, it's pretty much a done deal. They've done what they wanted to do, there's no way to change it now. But the reason I'm talking to you is to stop them from doing this to others." That was standard, what every source said.
"And you're going to tell me what happened to you, so I can . . ."
The woman cut her off. "Let's start with what you people call the back story. Is that the right word?"
"So, you're one of the victims? Did they get your land, too?"
"They're never going to get it, never," the woman answered, raising her voice. It took her a moment to calm down, then she said, "Let's just start with what you people call the back story. Is that the right word?"
Kate told her it was. Well, so much for the timid old neighbor lady. Forget about her, Kate told herself. From now on, she was going to pay real close attention instead of trying to jump ahead and read between the lines.
"These people you're writing about? You probably already know this, but they're just the tip of the iceberg. There's hundreds like them, victims, all over the Keys. It's really a plot. Lots of innocent people are going to be hurt. It's a conspiracy. I know you people hate that word, but there it is. This is a conspiracy. Everyone's in on it. Public officials, cops, government agents. They're all in it together and it's a lot more organized than you may think. Believe me, I've got the goods on them."
Kate told her she believed her. She could press her for documentation later, right now she just wanted her to get on with it. Get to her story. All the rest was window dressing. Whatever the caller said about her own situation, that was what she really wanted to talk about. "Please, go on."
"See, it's like this. They come in and threaten people," the woman said, once more becoming agitated. Kate heard the clink of ice again— she was taking a drink— then the woman took a deep breath and went on. It was clear this was hard for her.
"They're like the Mob, they make you an offer you can't refuse." Her effort at levity, if that was what it was, fell flat. "They tell you to give them your property at their price. Or you won't ever sell it to anyone else. Or use it yourself, either. They can tie it up, hamstring you if you need permits, you probably know all this. Or they figure they'll bankrupt you and then get your land, like that doctor you wrote about."
The caller's voice sounding flat and tired, as though what she was saying had suddenly exhausted her. Kate understood how emotional memories will do that. She waited.
A moment later, the woman went on. "Once you get to know me, you'll find I know exactly what's going on here. First of all, I've had my own experience with these people over a period of years. It's been, well, intense. And I've done a lot or research, I guess you'd call it an investigation.
"I've stood up to them. Through all the proper channels. I've fought them in court. In the course of it, we've spent a helluva lot of money. The legal fees have come in somewhere around $200,000. Do you believe it? And we haven't even won yet. This is how they fight you, it's a strategy. They're trying to bankrupt me so they can just take my land . . . I also have some, well, oddball ideas you may not have thought of."
Kate picked up on her use of `we' and wondered who else was involved? Now was the time to make a little pitch, put the idea out that a face-to-face might be in order. "I really want to hear your ideas. Maybe we can come up with some things you haven't even thought of." The suggestion was clear, but the caller didn't pick up on it.
Instead, she said, "Now, please don't take this wrong. I'd really like to help you. Only . . ." her voice trailed off.
This was the moment they all get cold feet, just before they committed. It would pass. "Listen to me. You don't have to be afraid," Kate urged. At this point, a name would be nice. Calling someone by name was much more reassuring. "You and I both know, sometimes the only way to stop injustice is to bring it out into the open."
The words elicited a snort of laughter, a transparent contemptuous sound. "Yeah, right. Well, I'm sure you believe that. Only, in my case, you happen to be wrong."
Feeling a trifle annoyed at the comment, Kate told herself to be careful and didn't let it show when she said, "I thought you just said you were never going to let them get your property?"
"I'm not," the woman answered. She wasn't about to explain the inconsistency or apologize for it. And Kate wasn't going to make her feel like she had to. She was not going to turn this into a guessing game, either. She knew the drill. She was just going to wait and let the woman talk, not challenge her. In her experience, anyone who called you like this wanted to talk and eventually they did. Sometimes they took a while, but eventually they did.
A few moments later, the caller went on. "Like I said, I have some information for you. I'm going to tell my attorney to send you some papers. If you find them interesting, I'll instruct him to make the rest of the file available to you. I'll have him enclose his card."
"Then what?" Kate ventured.
"Then, after you read it. If you want to, we can meet. He can arrange it."
Bingo! Kate thought, feeling the rush. But all she said was, "Great. I'll look forward to seeing the material." Then she gave the woman her mailing address, a P.O. box, and the caller thanked her and hung up. Kate sat a few more minutes thinking and staring at the tablet in front of her. All she had written on it were the words "Little Torch" and "scared."
To be continued next week.
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.