The Friday session started later than usual, but there was nothing about the day that had gone according to plan. The three men and two women gathered slowly around the table in the cramped conference room that occupied the center of the their office suite. By habit they left the chair at the end of the table closest to the door empty. Each seemed lost in their own thoughts but trying to be professional and do what needed to be done. They shuffled in with cups of tea or bottles of water and pads of paper. The agenda had been set the previous week and the notes distributed by email on Thursday. When they received the emails none of them could imagine the circumstances they now found themselves facing.
John Demming sat at the end of the table farthest from the door. He had come in first and smiled and nodded through his long grey beard at each of the others as they took their seats. When they were all settled in he picked up the stack of paper in front of him and gently squared it up by tapping the sheets to the wood and cleared his throat, “This isn’t going to be easy, but, we need to do what Audrey would want, which is to keep the organization going and complete the projects she started.”
A woman with long blond hair pulled back in a messy pony tail and red rimmed eyes spoke through the gloom that hung over them, “Is there anymore information about what happened?”
“The police still haven’t identified a suspect Olivia. They say whoever did it was very professional and that is making them wonder if it had something to do with our work.”
“Who would want to kill the executive director of a bird foundation?” The youngest member of the staff, Warren Miller, had only been with the organization for six months. He hadn’t seen some of the violent reactions their work could provoke.
“Some of the projects we’re involved in could cost people a lot of money if we’re successful at blocking developments. It all seems polite and professional, but there are fortunes at stake and not everyone plays by the rules,” Demming said.
“Not playing by the rules is one thing, murder is quite another,” Joyce murmured.