Night Swimming (32 page)

“A ton of them,” Mike added in a stage whisper.

Lily’s gaze swept around the living room. The pictures were exactly as they had been—before May Ellen had Lily and Sean rehang them. She shot her grandmother an accusing look. “Granny, how could you?”

“I’m sorry, Lily.” May Ellen’s expression was sheepish. “I decided I liked them arranged the old way better.”

“I know!” Anne Prentiss exclaimed brightly. “Let’s celebrate Lily’s homecoming with a round of mimosas!”

The idea was met with near-unanimous enthusiasm.

“I think a glass of milk might be better for me,” Lily said. “I’m afraid I’ll fall flat on my face if I have anything stronger.”

“What you need, Lily, is a protein shake,” Hal told her. “You were looking a little peaked when I visited yesterday, so I brought along the mixings. Do you have a blender, Mrs. Farrady?”

“Of course. Follow me, Hal.”

A sudden group migration toward the kitchen in search of drinks left the living room nearly empty.

Lily turned to Simone. “You said you have the sample analyses?”

“The printouts are in my brief—”

“And?”

Simone grinned. “I’d say you and Karen did a terrific job. I’ll get the stats in a minute. But first, tell me how you’re feeling.”

“Loads better, now that you’ve assured me I didn’t get zapped by that stingray for nothing.”

“And the puncture wounds are healing?”

“They’re fine,” Lily assured her. “Just three tiny bandages. My lungs are clear, too. The doctor told me I can go back in the water in a couple of days. Though I’ll probably sink,” Lily confessed with a grimace. “The worst thing is how darned weak I feel.”

Simone frowned. “I hope Hal’s shake works as well as he claims. From the sound of things, this reef meeting is going to be more like an armed confrontation. I called Mayor McDermott’s secretary, Evelyn Roemer. She told me they’d only managed to push the meeting back to this week. It’s scheduled for the day after tomorrow. Two o’clock.”

Lily sat down heavily in the wingback chair. “I’d assumed we’d have a little more time to prepare.” She quailed at the thought of how much there was to do in so short a time. “Will Sean even be back from his trip by then?” she wondered aloud.

Since he’d left, Sean had called her every day but as Lily’s room seemed perpetually filled with well-wishers, their conversations had been disappointingly brief . . . and distressingly stilted. As Lily’s strength returned, she’d sensed something strange in Sean’s tone. His cheerful-ness sounded forced.

She wished she could see him, look in his eyes, and feel the warmth of his smile.

“Sean told me he’ll be returning the same day as the meeting,” Dave said to her as he crossed the living room, champagne mimosas balanced in his hands. Offering one to Simone and Karen, Dave took a healthy sip of his own. “Mmm, nothing like a mimosa for lunch.”

Like a dog with a bone, Lily was still worrying the issue of the upcoming reef meeting. “Will your film be ready in time?” she asked Karen.

“Sean—” Karen’s champagne spilled over the back of her hand when Dave accidentally bumped her with his elbow. “Oops!” she said with an embarrassed cough, then quickly licked her hand. “Yeah, I should be getting them tomorrow . . . uh, Baldev called.”

“And I’ll be here to help you organize the reef report,” Simone chimed in. “George told me to call if we need any advice. Unfortunately, he has to root for you from the sidelines. He’s been temporarily delayed in New York.”

Lily smiled. “Busy twisting peoples’ arms for money,” she guessed.

“Something like that,” Simone murmured, and raised her champagne flute to her lips.

“Simone,” Lily said, her voice subdued. “I just wanted to say how sorry I am that I messed up—”

Simone frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The reef.” She shrugged miserably. “I got so distracted coming back home—you were right, Simone, when you said all those things about roots and family. I’d been ignoring my feelings and my ties to this place for too long. But I ended up neglecting the study. I let you down, as well as Karen, Sean, and the rest of Coral Beach.”

Simone glanced at Karen. “Is this John’s special brand of poison?”

“Yeah,” Karen replied. “Easy to recognize, huh?”

“Damn. I should have guessed you’d be beating yourself up about this. This wasn’t your fault, Lily. John is a thieving liar and I rue the day he stepped into my office. But he’ll get his due.”

“He certainly will.” Dave Cullen’s voice was cold and harsh. “He’s going to find out how far the arm of Justice reaches.”

Lily tried to summon a smile for her friends. Inside, the thought,
I wish Sean were here,
echoed in what had become a silent litany. Lily knew that all her fears would disappear the instant she saw him again, the moment he wrapped his arms about her and said,
I love you
.

Hal came into the living room, holding a tall glass before him. He presented it to Lily with all the pomp and ceremony reserved for a magic elixir.

With an effort, Lily set aside her yearning for Sean. But she couldn’t help eyeing the thick orange shake somewhat dubiously.

“Uh, thanks, Hal,” she said, before taking a tentative sip. “Hey!” She looked up. “This is . . . pretty good.”

Hal glowed with pleasure as she took another sip, and then another.

“Well,” Lily said after she’d gulped down half the shake, “if we’ve only got thirty-six hours to get this report in shape, we’d better get cracking.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Ferrucci sat in the back office of the Blue Dolphin, the morning’s newspaper spread before him.

Now this is more like it,
he thought. Mayor McDermott, pure as fuckin’ Galahad, was covered in shit. The press was going to town over his alleged harassment of Lily Banyon. Their ire stoked by McDermott’s bald refusal to comment.

Everything was working out beautifully.

Ferrucci had set it up so that the reef study was waiting to go off like a bomb in Banyon’s and McDermott’s faces. Perhaps sensing the catastrophe looming, McDermott was already running scared—literally. No one knew where in hell he was hiding, except maybe that pink gargoyle, Roemer. The second Ferrucci was elected mayor, she’d be out on her skinny ass.

McDermott’s absence was making things even easier, Ferrucci thought. Because every day he stayed away from the news-starved press was another nail in his coffin. And Ferrucci knew how to hammer but good.

He’d drive the last nail into the coffin today, at the coral reef meeting, and bury McDermott alive. Then things would really start going his way.

Sean pushed Abe Lesnesky’s wheelchair up the cement path that led to Fred Sneel’s house. George Hunt walked alongside them. Sneel was waiting for them, holding the door to his home open.

Sean’s words were hurried as he addressed Fred Sneel. “Thanks again for agreeing to help us—”

“I’m delighted to help Lily in any way I can,” Sneel replied. “Just tell me what to do, Sean.”

“There’s an entrance on the side of the building which is wheelchair accessible. Try to arrive early if you can. The place will be mobbed with press and anyone else who’s been following the story. I don’t want to run the risk of Dr. Lesnesky being recognized.”

“I understand.” Sneel nodded. “Where do I take Dr. Lesnesky and Dr. Hunt once we’re there?”

“I’ll telephone Ms. Roemer once we’re en route,” George told him. “She’ll have someone meet us.”

Sean’s gaze dropped to Lesnesky, who was looking skeletal thin in his wheelchair. His eyes were sunken, like deep-shadowed caverns, his skin gray and parchment brittle. “We’re grateful that you’ve decided to do this, Dr. Lesnesky. We’ll find an office where you can wait as comfortably as possible.”

Lesnesky gave a mirthless laugh. “You can stick me in a broom closet—I’m beyond feeling comfortable. I just want to clear my conscience before I meet my Maker.”

Sean nodded. “I understand,” he said quietly.

His anger toward Lesnesky had dissipated over the last few days. It hadn’t been too hard to convince him to come and testify—Lesnesky’s guilt over sabotaging the reef study consumed him as much as the cancer laying waste to his body. The doctors gave him only a few weeks to live.

What had clinched Lesnesky’s decision was when Sean and George Hunt told him about Lily’s accident. He’d been horror-stricken that a fellow scientist’s life had been endangered because of him. Lesnesky realized that this was his only chance to make amends for what he’d done—that he’d chosen to admit his crimes publicly conferred upon him a tragic dignity.

After exchanging good-byes, Sean got in his car and headed for town hall. Weary bitterness filled him as he thought of Lesnesky and how the reef study had become a sordid mess of corruption and lies. One that had tainted so much and so many.

What grieved Sean most was that it had hurt Lily— physically as well as professionally. He had to do what he could to restore Lily’s image as a scientist whose reputation was beyond reproach.

Of course, his own career was in free-fall, Sean reflected with a kind of cynical detachment. Even if everything went according to Sean’s carefully laid plans, it wouldn’t stop his political enemies from accusing him of professional and ethical misconduct in harassing the head scientist of the research team.

He was fully aware that his adamant refusal to subject Lily to the cruel glare of the media was destroying his chances for reelection. Indeed, with each damning article, the cry that he should step aside so another candidate could run grew louder.

How ironic that a few short hours after the reef advisory meeting today, Sean would have to attend the gala fund-raiser that was supposed to be the kickoff for his reelection campaign.

Sickened and disgusted by the smear tactics being used against him, a part of him was sorely tempted to toss in the towel. He could march up to the podium tonight, thank the assembled guests for coming to support him, then inform them that he would not be seeking a second term as mayor.
Good night, folks, enjoy the champagne
without me.

But to quit would mean to leave the town where he’d been born and bred, the town that he loved, vulnerable to the avaricious machinations of more schemers like Pete Ferrucci. And that was unacceptable. So Sean would stand and fight, and pray that he could also protect Lily and their newfound love from being destroyed.

“What are all these TV crews doing here outside town hall?” Lily asked, stunned.

Karen was sitting beside her in the passenger seat. Her lips tightened as she stared at the throng of people milling about. “Dave said the media would probably be covering the reef meeting, what with your accident on the reef and all.” She coughed to clear her throat. “He suggested we use the back entrance on Water Street.”

Without another word, Lily bypassed the town hall parking lot and drove around the corner, leaving the camera crews in her rearview mirror. Her palms left a film of sweat upon the steering wheel as it slid between her hands.

She was more nervous than she’d ever been in her life.

She and Simone had spent a marathon session holed up in May Ellen’s den, working on Lily’s reef report for the committee, with Kaye and May Ellen providing fortifying meals and glasses filled to the brim with Hal’s special protein shakes. Whenever Lily felt too drained to continue, she’d stumble over to the sofa, sleep for an hour, and return to work.

Yesterday, Karen’s slides had been delivered. While Karen still mourned the loss of her stolen film, the pictures she’d taken during the storm showed very clearly the diseases that were attacking the coral.

Lily’s final report was solid, buttressed by photographic documentation, by the data she’d compiled of both core and water samples, and by the charts showing tide and current patterns. But although her assessment contained all the necessary evidence to stop the development plan, Lily knew it could nonetheless fail to convince the committee members. Never before had it been so important to her that a committee accept and concur with her findings.

It seemed as though years had passed rather than a few short weeks since Lily had walked down the hall that led to the conference room. She’d been nervous before, filled with dread at having to confront Sean McDermott. She was a hundred times more anxious now. And Sean’s was the only face she longed to see.

At the threshold, she hesitated, her eyes widening with shock. The conference room was packed. She couldn’t even make out the U-shaped table at the front, where the committee members would sit. Karen stood rigidly beside her, equally unwilling to enter the crowded room.

Sean must have been watching for her. For suddenly he was wending his way toward them, his eyes fixed on Lily. By the time he reached them, Lily felt the first prick of tears.

Sean took her hand in his, for all appearances shaking it. But no simple handshake ever felt so electrifying. Lily blinked, thinking the tears of joy in her eyes were making her see stars, then realized that flashbulbs were popping around the room, aimed at Sean and her.

Her hand still in his, Sean stepped further back into the hall. Then, in a voice pitched low, for her ears alone, he said, “Are you okay? Are you sure you’re up to this?”

Lily felt his concerned gaze sweep over her face. She’d spent extra time on her appearance today, using her makeup to conceal the fatigue still shadowing her features.

Sean looked wearied, too. There were lines of strain etched around the corners of his mouth. Her heart aching for him, she smiled reassuringly.

“I’m fine. I just have a pretty bad case of stage fright,” she admitted with a shaky laugh. “But I can do it.”

“I know you can. You’re incredible, Lily,” Sean said with solemn conviction. He squeezed her fingers gently. “Listen, don’t worry if things get ugly really fast today. Above all, don’t let Ferrucci rile you—”

“Sean.” It was Evelyn Roemer. “Everyone’s here.”

“Right.” The lines in Sean’s face deepened. With a final, reassuring squeeze, he let go of Lily’s hand. “Let’s get the meeting started.”

McDermott had reintroduced Banyon to the committee with stiff formality—
as if everyone in the room hadn’t
figured out the two of them were screwing like rabbits,
Ferrucci thought, choking back laughter. No, he couldn’t laugh, much as he wanted to. That would be hardly appropriate behavior for the future mayor of Coral Beach.

Ferrucci didn’t try to hide his smirk, however, as Banyon rose from her seat and walked over to the lectern. He leaned back in his chair and twirled his silver fountain pen between his fingers. He was going to bide his time and wait for the perfect moment to strike.

Lily had succeeded in conquering her attack of nerves by pretending that she and Sean were alone in the room. Her laptop was already set up, resting on the lectern, humming quietly. With a quick glance over her shoulder to check that she wasn’t blocking the projection screen, Lily began her report to the coral reef advisory committee.

In a voice that grew increasingly confident, she explained what the team had found during their weeks of research. Using the computer’s three-dimensional rendering of the patch reef to orient the committee members, she pointed out different sections of the reef and the condition of the coral that grew there.

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.”