戴维·乔利欲将佛罗里达州州长府染蓝，却不得不面对自己与一名被控诈骗者的过往关联

As David Jolly aims to turn Florida governor’s office blue, he confronts his prior ties to an alleged fraudster

2026-10-15T13:25:00-0400 / CBS News

Less than two weeks after David Jolly launched his Democratic campaign for Florida governor last year, a Tampa grand jury indicted his former boss for allegedly siphoning over $100 million from a nonprofit set up to manage the assets of people with disabilities.

Jolly has called the alleged actions of businessman Leo Govoni “raw cruelty.” He has also distanced himself from Govoni, telling voters in a July video that he “was an employee of Mr. Govoni’s at a separate company from which the theft later occurred,” and “from public filings, his activities appear to have occurred almost exclusively after we left his employment.”

While Jolly didn’t work at the nonprofit that was the source of the allegedly stolen money, he did work at a for-profit firm where the money was allegedly sent. Federal prosecutors said Govoni had used the firm to enrich himself. And a forensic accountant found that millions of dollars moved from the nonprofit to the firm during the period when Jolly worked there, according to filings from a related court case reviewed by CBS News.

Nothing in the court documents suggests that Jolly knew about or was involved in the scheme laid out in the indictment, and he has not been accused of any wrongdoing. He told the Tampa Bay Times he was not aware of the transfers described by the indictment.

Jolly campaign senior advisor Mark Riddle said in a statement: “Congressman Jolly has been forthright with the public and the press since he learned of this matter when the rest of the world did last year, upon the arrest and public filings against Leo Govoni. Congressman Jolly was one of over 100 W-2 employees among Govoni’s many companies. He never served as an officer or in a position of any fiduciary responsibility, nor did he ever have any visibility into the finances of Mr. Govoni or his companies. Congressman Jolly has never been contacted by investigators in the criminal case against Mr. Govoni nor been a subject of the investigation.”

Jolly — a former Republican who left the party early in the Trump era — is vying for the governor’s mansion against GOP Rep. Byron Donalds. Florida hasn’t elected a Democratic governor in this century, but Jolly thinks discontent with the GOP could give him an opening.

Jolly worked at Govoni’s Boston Finance Group from 2012 until early 2014, when Jolly won his first election for a Tampa-area U.S. House seat. In 2013, the future congressman earned $250,000 at the firm, according to House financial disclosures. One 2013 statement from his House campaign describes Jolly as a vice president at Boston Finance Group.

Govoni also donated to Jolly’s various political campaigns and served as finance co-chair of Jolly’s 2016 Senate run. Jolly’s wife worked for another Govoni-run firm while he was a House member, and Govoni’s son worked in Jolly’s congressional office in 2014.

Riddle told CBS News that Jolly “has done something that no Republican politician has done: returned Mr. Govoni’s political contributions to his victims. Congressman Jolly calls on the other beneficiaries of Mr. Govoni’s contributions to do the same.”

Govoni’s alleged scheme left behind a trail of alleged victims. After Colorado resident Chase McMinn was shot at work, over $1 million from legal settlements was placed in a trust managed by Govoni’s nonprofit to pay for his 24/7 care, according to his father. Between $200,000 and $360,000 disappeared, his father said, and it’s not clear if it will ever be returned.

“What [Govoni] did was just so evil,” Chase McMinn’s father, Milt, told CBS News.

An attorney for Govoni did not comment, saying he would let the case speak for itself. CBS News has reached out to Govoni’s son for comment.

Charges against Govoni mention firm where Jolly worked

The federal criminal charges against Govoni describe a complicated web of companies set up by the Clearwater-based businessman and his associates.

At its center is the Center for Special Needs Trust Administration, or CSNT, a nonprofit co-founded by Govoni in 2000 to help manage and invest the financial assets of people with disabilities. Prosecutors say it eventually became one of the country’s largest operations of its kind, managing around $200 million in assets across more than 2,000 trusts as of 2024.

Between 2009 and 2012, prosecutors allege, CSNT agreed to lend up to $100 million to Boston Finance Group, a firm run by Govoni that was in the business of offering loans to other companies.

After CSNT declared bankruptcy in 2024, a federally appointed trustee set out to track down the money and sued Boston Finance Group to claw back the loan.

Court papers filed in that lawsuit show that the loan was set up as a revolving line of credit that allowed Boston Finance Group to borrow chunks of money from CSNT over time. In January 2012, Boston Finance Group was granted a $100 million credit line and was required to pay back the money by 2017, with quarterly interest payments until then.

Boston Finance Group drew money from CSNT almost every quarter for a decade, starting in 2010, according to an analysis by a forensic accountant hired by the bankruptcy trustee who pored through both CSNT and Boston Finance Group’s bank records.

From March 2013 to February 2014, during Jolly’s tenure at Boston Finance Group, the company drew down more than $10 million from CSNT, the accountant’s analysis shows.

Two accounting experts told CBS News the forensic accountant who carried out the analysis appeared to follow the correct procedures: Suresh Govindaraj, a professor at Rutgers Business School, and Francine McKenna, a professor at Montclair State University and independent journalist who covers accounting issues at public and pre-IPO companies.

Court records do not mention Jolly or suggest that he was personally aware of those transfers.

A graphic in a Justice Department filing lays out the alleged scheme involving Leo Govoni and a codefendant, John Witeck. Justice Department

By late 2024, the accountant found, Boston Finance Group had borrowed just shy of $100 million from the nonprofit and only paid back around $19 million. The nonprofit was owed around $120 million net, including interest, the accountant said. A judge later found Boston Finance Group liable for the full sum, brushing off the firm’s argument that it owed less.

Federal prosecutors say the “overwhelming majority” of the money that Boston Finance Group borrowed from CSNT wasn’t invested in order to help clients, and instead, much of it was “distributed … to other GOVONI-controlled entities for illegitimate, non-investment purposes, including the personal enrichment of the defendants and others.”

The indictment said Boston Finance Group “functioned as a slush fund and passthrough entity.” It is not clear exactly what happened to the money that was transferred during Jolly’s time at the firm, or whether those funds played a role in the alleged scheme. The indictment alleges several 2020 transfers from Boston Finance Group to other Govoni-linked entities constituted wire fraud.

“Govoni used his victims’ money to live a lavish life, complete with luxury boxes at Tampa Bay Buccaneers games and the Kentucky Derby, pay off his own home mortgage, enable his use of private planes, and cover the living expenses of his friends and family,” the Justice Department alleged in one court document last year. “He even distributed some of his victims’ money directly into his own personal bank account.”

Federal prosecutors charged Govoni with conspiracy, fraud and other charges. He pleaded not guilty and was ordered detained ahead of a trial set for next year.

Milt McMinn told CBS News his son Chase relied on money held by CSNT after he was shot in the head by a customer at an auto shop in the Denver area. The 2017 shooting left him quadriplegic, nonverbal and in need of 24/7 care.

Chase McMinn Milt McMinn

“His life right now is basically a bed and a wheelchair,” Milt McMinn said. He described his son as a “great young man.”

Chase McMinn’s family was able to recover more than $1 million in legal settlements, and a judge directed the money to be managed by Govoni’s nonprofit, his father said.

In 2024, the FBI notified the family that it was investigating issues with the trust.

Milt McMinn said he and his wife have had to pay for many of Chase’s needs out of pocket, including a rehab center and expenses for Chase’s daughter.

The father said he is “really angry” about Govoni’s alleged crimes.

“I just don’t understand why he would do that,” he said.

Govoni and Jolly’s relationship

Over the summer, Jolly told the Tampa Bay Times he met Govoni when they were both members of an elder affairs committee at Stetson University. He said Govoni initially brought him on as a consultant, and later hired him at Boston Finance Group in 2012 to help Govoni recover $30 million from a former business partner.

Financial disclosures show Jolly worked at Boston Finance Group from some point in 2012 until March 11, 2014, when he won a special congressional election to replace his late boss, GOP Rep. Bill Young. Over that period, Jolly reported $468,750 in income from the firm.

Govoni and employees of his companies donated thousands of dollars to Jolly’s congressional campaigns, and Govoni served as finance co-chair for his 2016 Senate run. Govoni has donated to other politicians, a point Jolly raised over the summer, saying he “worked hard to surround himself with elected officials across Florida.”

After he was elected to Congress, Jolly says his wife also worked for Govoni. House financial disclosures list his wife as an employee of Boston Holding Company in 2015 and 2016.

Meanwhile, Govoni’s son worked for Jolly’s office, the gubernatorial candidate said over the summer. According to his LinkedIn account, LJ Govoni worked as a senior legislative aide from April 2014 to December 2014. LJ Govoni’s profile on the site doesn’t mention that he worked for Jolly, but says his job “wasn’t a career move — it was a personal ask.”

“When a close contact was elected to Congress, he asked me to come to Washington and help build the office: establish process, install leadership infrastructure, and make sure the operation ran the way a serious legislative office should,” he wrote. “I came, did the work, and returned to the private sector when the foundation was set.”

Caitlin Yilek and Fin Daniel Gómez contributed to this report.