Carnal Vengeance (12 page)

Since discovering that she was not alone and sharing her story with loved ones had both helped so much, she felt compelled to consider the comment Erica had made about retribution being part of the healing process. Her father had implied the same thing but she didn't want him involved.

With that in mind, she took the Jerry Frampton file out of her briefcase and opened it. Inside were a number of reports issued over the last ten years from various private investigative agencies, a few computer printouts and several sheets of notes with the initials "R.G." or "B.R." on the bottom.

During the next hour she learned more about Jerry Frampton than she knew about her own father, but only a portion of the information was relevant to her.

Jerry Frampton graduated from Dominion nineteen years ago. As a first-round draft choice of the prior season's champion football team, he received an exorbitant bonus and was to be paid one of the highest salaries offered that year. In the third game of the season the ligaments in his right shoulder were torn so badly that even after two operations and a year of recuperation, he was unable to regain the strength in his valuable throwing arm. By the next year he permanently retired from the game.

This much would have been well publicized at the time, but Holly had purposely avoided reading the sports section of the newspaper and closed her ears to any conversation in which his name might have been mentioned.

The year after his formal retirement, Frampton set up a small publishing company in Fort Lauderdale, apparently using the money he had earned in football. Six months later the first issue of
Jock,
a men's magazine devoted primarily to sports articles and photographs of nude women in ludicrous poses, was printed. Within the next five years, circulation of
Jock
skyrocketed.

Holly was aware of what career he had gone into after football, but since that wasn't a magazine she ever needed to look at, she was able to ignore its existence as she did its owner's.

The reports and notes in the file written during the years of his climb up the publishing ladder indicated his handsome face and charisma attracted a kaleidoscopic array of female companions and his showmanship and questionable morals attracted the press.

Despite continuous rumors of lewd behavior, he had never been charged with any offense. He was only made more interesting by the tales of private parties where cocaine was served from a punch bowl and group sex was rumored to include animals. Even if every one of the Little Sisters came forward and told their story, it would probably only enhance the wicked reputation that served him so well.

The IRS reports supplied by Bobbi Renquist contained similar information. He was a sleazy character, undoubtedly guilty of something, yet nothing definite could be turned up against him. Holly's eyes widened at the figure that represented Frampton's estimated net worth. Her first thought was of how much Earth Guard could accomplish with only a fraction of that amount.

Her second thought was how satisfying it would be to see Jerry Frampton lose it all.

It was the last report by Rachel Greenley that offered some hope of that event coming to pass. A new detective hired by Cheryl had snapped a candid photo of Jerry Frampton in the midst of a heated argument with an ex-con named Mick D'Angelo. The picture was taken on the grounds of Frampton's well-guarded private estate in Boca Raton, Florida. Rachel had used the FBI's resources to confirm and elaborate upon the information the detective uncovered.

After Frampton's football injury, he shared a room in a Miami, Florida, hospital with D'Angelo, a man with a long list of misdemeanors on his official police record. On several occasions afterward, Frampton was observed dining with D'Angelo in the Hon Choi restaurant on Miami's South Beach. The owner, Tommy Li Chen, reluctantly revealed that Frampton was a close friend of D'Angelo's, a regular at the establishment.

About a year after
Jock
was launched with great success, D'Angelo was arrested on several counts of child abuse and possessing and selling child pornography. One hour after an extremely high bail was set, it was posted by Jerry Frampton. When the case went to court, D'Angelo had the best attorney money could buy. Charges of child abuse were dropped and D'Angelo ultimately served only one year in prison.

Holly could see how a connection between Jerry Frampton and Mick D'Angelo could be detrimental, but she hadn't an inkling of how she could assist in his downfall, as April had suggested she might. Nevertheless, the idea intrigued her. A full schedule awaited her at the office, but she promised herself at least to call April and find time to listen to what she had to say.

* * *

David Wells was batting a thousand that morning. First he had received a call from his police friend with the information he'd requested. Red's name was Rachel Greenley and a coworker at the FBI disclosed that she was a top agent whose special domain was serial murders. She was also a loner and a heavy drinker. There was a supposition that she was a lesbian but the coworker had never seen her socializing with a woman or a man.

Interesting data but it didn't give a clue as to why she would be meeting with Donner.

After setting a date to take the detective to a Redskins game, David got to work figuring out why the name Philip Sinkiewicz had rung a bell. A simple Google search served up the public facts about the man who had founded Earth Guard and his lovely associate, Holly Kaufman. Although the lobby represented many environmental concerns, Holly's efforts focused primarily on ridding the planet of garbage.

For the private information, he turned to Christine Crowley, the paper's society columnist and D.C.'s favorite gossip. She was a woman well past middle age, whose less than perfect features looked only slightly better with makeup and a spiky black hairdo—but people didn't court her because of her appearance. Christine knew everything about everybody in the capital, including tidbits that couldn't be printed in her column.

"There's not much to tell," she told him without hesitation. "They've been considered a couple for years, since his wife's death, and the word is he was a friend of her family's long before she went to work for him. Mind you, I said
considered
a couple. As far as I know, there have never been any weekend rendezvous in the country, no public kisses and no cohabitation. If they're lovers, they're fanatically private about it."

"Good."

"Hold on there, Romeo. Do I detect the rising of testosterone? Let me save you some time and energy. Some powerful men have tried to storm that pretty fortress and wound up slinking away without winning so much as a smile from her. From all reports, Philip Sinkiewicz is the only man with whom she conducts more than business and, as I said, no one can confirm exactly how much more that actually is."

David smiled as he felt himself automatically rising to a new challenge. "Then there's no problem, because my interest in her is strictly business. She knows something that I don't and I want to find out what that is."

Christine smirked at him. "Right. I'll pretend to believe you're not interested in doing anything with her but talking, if you'll promise to keep me posted."

"Will do," David said with a wink and returned to his desk. Now that he knew who the blonde was, where she worked and what she was interested in, it was a simple matter to call her secretary and make an appointment to interview Ms. Kaufman for an article on recycling or landfills. After that, he could let nature take its course.

Much to his surprise, Earth Guard's secretary pitched him his first strike. After he asked for the interview, she put him on hold to check the calendar. It took so long, David instinctively knew that the woman was discussing him with her boss and that the lady was leery of what he really wanted. His assumption was proved accurate when the secretary informed him that Ms. Kaufman's schedule was full for the next week, but that he could get any information he needed for his article from Mr. Sinkiewicz. Insisting that he preferred to speak to the woman who was considered an expert on the subject got him nowhere with the stiffly polite secretary.

He supposed she really could be that busy, but his nose was twitching. Someone in her position should always want to have the ear of a reporter from the
Herald
. Whatever her reason, it didn't bode well for getting her to confide in him about why she met with those other women at the hotel.

David acknowledged that standard approaches weren't going to work this time. What he needed was a side door to slip through. He called Christine and asked if she knew of any social functions that Holly Kaufman would be expected to attend.

"As a matter of fact, there's a major benefit Saturday night. Plenty of politicians and industrialists, lots of guilt combined with an excess of money. There's no way she or Sinkiewicz would miss that kind of opportunity to schmooz."

David knew he couldn't afford to miss such an opportunity either. "What would it take to get seated at her table?"

"Invitations are available to anyone willing to part with the minimum thousand-dollar donation, but I might be able to get that waived for a member of the press. As to the seating, I might have to twist an arm or two."

"Name your price."

Laughing, Christine said, "I just want to be there when the princess of garbage puts you out with the rest of the trash."

"Oh, ye of little faith. You've got a deal."

Christine told him when and where to pick her up. "By the way, it's black tie and I expect a wrist corsage."

* * *

Holly had hoped to get out of the office without having to give Philip any explanation of her evening's plans. Originally, she had intended to have him come to her apartment for a candlelight dinner, but her brief conversation with April that afternoon had forced her to alter the plan. The only time the psychiatrist could give her was this evening, since she had to leave town tomorrow, and she didn't want to discuss the matter over the phone.

Considering the odd looks Philip had been giving her all day, she should have known he wouldn't be that easy to avoid. The second after she closed the clasp on her briefcase, he appeared in her doorway with an optimistic grin.

"Ready to go? I know we didn't make plans to go out tonight, but if you'd like, we could try that Thai restaurant that just opened."

"I'm sorry, I can't." She got as close to the truth as she could. "A friend of mine from college called me this afternoon. She's in town for the night and I promised to meet her for dinner."

His smiled faltered. "I always enjoy meeting your friends. I'd be glad to treat both of you."

She stood up to leave but he remained in her path. His eyes held the same pleading expression she had noticed yesterday when she told him she was going home to see her parents. "That's sweet but it wouldn't be fair. We'd bore you to tears with all our girl-talk. But I do have something I want to discuss with you... in private. Could I come by your house later?"

"Of course," he said, stepping aside for her to pass, but his smile hadn't returned.

Hoping to allay his concern, she kissed his cheek and promised, "I won't be too late." She felt him staring at her as she walked away and reassured herself that the plans she had for this evening would soon restore his faith in her.

As soon as she and April were settled in the restaurant Holly had suggested, April asked, "Did you hear the closing statements of the Senate hearing today?"

"No, I didn't have a minute to spare."

April sighed. "It wasn't good. They've torn Cheryl apart. She got confused a few times and reacted emotionally more often than logically—not that I can blame her." She shook her head as she straightened her silverware into precise parallel lines. "I shouldn't have let her do this. She doesn't have the strength."

Holly felt the woman's sadness as if it was palpable. "I got the impression Cheryl volunteered."

"Yes, but I could have stopped her. I should have guessed how that committee might react. It's my responsibility to know things like that."

The waitress came to take their order before Holly could think of anything consoling to say. By the time she left them alone again, April seemed to have shed her self-doubt.

"So tell me, Holly, what did you think of our research on Frampton?"

"I was impressed with the quality and quantity," she replied formally. "It was very... thorough."

"And?"

Holly met April's steady gaze. "And disgusting."

"And?"

Holly hesitated a second, then admitted, "And I'm intrigued by what you said about retribution."

April's soft smile was a reward for honesty. "Very good."

"I don't see how I could help, though. It looks to me like this would fall under Rachel's area."

April nodded. "It could, but she's having some trouble at work and calling attention to herself by investigating something with so little to go on could make matters worse. I had a different approach in mind, one that you might be equipped to handle better than the rest of us."

"I'm willing to hear what you have in mind," Holly answered cautiously.

Delivery of their drinks and salads delayed April's explanation a moment, during which Holly's curiosity increased.

"No law enforcement agency has the time or manpower to follow up on information as sketchy as ours. Nor do we want to involve a private detective whose only interest in the case would be monetary payment. If he was unscrupulous, he could be bribed to bury the evidence. Even if he was law-abiding, he might reveal who hired him, which could put us in a difficult position. There are simply too many risks. What we need is someone who would look under every rock to get to the truth. Someone who would rather discover a shocking secret than a bag of gold."