Carnal Vengeance Page 6

  He laughed. "No. As soon as I opened that portable office of yours and saw how much work you have in there, I just closed it up again. If you get a chance, I'd appreciate your taking a look for it, though. Are you ready to go?"

  She nodded and let him take the bag from her. Though she hadn't planned on taking her briefcase along, his reminder of how much work she had to do changed her mind. Grabbing the case and her purse, she flicked the lights off and closed the door behind her.

  * * *

  "I'll be damned! Harry Abbott taking a trip around the world." David Wells shook his head at the balding man he considered his mentor. Harry had talked about this trip as long as they had known each other, but David had always figured the old man's plans had about as much substance as his cigar smoke. Yet here they were, sitting in an airport restaurant, drinking a toast to his adventure. On the other hand, Harry had retired as sports editor for The Washington Herald several months ago and David had never expected him to do that either.

  David had already put ten years into The Washington Herald—as a paperboy—before he got a job on the inside working as an apprentice to Harry on the sports desk. Those years, plus his family's poverty level, helped him gain the Newsboy Scholarship, which covered his tuition at George Washington University, but his part-time job for the paper paid for the rest. In truth, Harry taught him far more than four years of journalism class ever did and, because of that, David would walk barefoot across a desert for the man.

  "How long do you figure you'll be gone?" David asked.

  "As long as it takes. I'm going to play golf in Scotland, Ping-Pong in China and whatever it is they do in Tahiti, I'll do that too. I've already got a publisher interested in the book."

  "The book?" David didn't bother to hide his surprise.

  "Sure." Harry leaned forward and lowered his voice as if sharing a major secret. "You didn't think I'd take off without knowing it would all be deductible later."

  "I wondered what you were up to the last couple of months when you kept putting off getting together."

  Harry shrugged and took another swallow of his beer. "To tell you the truth, I was feeling too sorry for myself to be sociable. I just had to give myself a kick in the ass. Retirement's not for me. What else is an old ex-sportswriter going to do but write a book about sports? At any rate, I've been following your stories. Nice job on the HUD article. What are you working on now?"

  "Just finished up an article on the local homeless situation. It wasn't too hard. All I had to do was go back and hang around the neighborhood I grew up in. Something else got my nose twitching today."

  "Not going to sit on your laurels, huh?"

  "Hey, you know what you told me years ago—Lots of people are satisfied being first string, but the one the fans remember is the quarterback."

  Harry chewed on his unlit cigar. "I never had any doubt you'd make it, kid. I pegged you the day you walked into the newsroom-—smart, sassy and hungry as hell. So, what got you going today?"

  David gave him a brief account of Tim Ziegler's call and his stakeout in the hotel. He then described the women, being particularly explicit when it came to the nervous blonde.

  Harry chuckled. "It's amazing your hormones never got you into a serious mess. Seeing as how you've had a close encounter with every D-cup blonde in Washington and you didn't recognize her, maybe she's just visiting." He waved to the waitress to get them another round.

  "I don't think so. My nose says they were there for some kind of business and she had the stamp of a capital woman on her. I've just missed meeting her somehow."

  "Maybe she's one of that rare breed, a happily married woman."

  David shook his head. "No ring. I—" His thought was aborted as he caught sight of a couple entering the restaurant. "I'll be damned! It's her."

  The blonde was carrying a leather briefcase and she was with a much older man, toting a brown tweed overnight bag. As the man sat down at a table near the entrance, she headed for the restrooms beyond Harry and David's table.

  As she passed him, David noted that her light-blue blouse was thin enough to confirm the fullness of her breasts and her black jeans had been washed just enough to hug her rounded hips without being too tight. She never made visual contact with him but he couldn't help but notice that her eyes were almost the same shade of blue as his own. He let out the breath he had unconsciously held as she had glided toward him. Damn, she was gorgeous!

  Harry waved his cigar at David to get his attention. "Aren't you getting a little old for the game?"

  "You're one to talk, old man. As I recall, you're the one who said, Why buy a ticket to the game when you can climb the fence?"

  Harry's lips formed a smirk around the stogie. Although he removed it to speak, the words still exited from the corner of his mouth. "What'd you do, write down everything I said for the last two decades?"

  "I didn't have to with you spouting Harryisms all the time."

  "Harryisms? Well, now. I kinda like that. Maybe I can use that in my book. In the meantime, I'd like to add one more to your collection. There comes a time in every man's life when he's too old to climb the fence. Then it's sort of nice to be holding a season ticket."

  David pretended to choke on his coffee. "What's this, Har? Is the confirmed bachelor hoping to find a little woman on his world tour?"

  "Nah. It's too late for me. But it's not for you. I just wanted to let you know that since I retired, sometimes it gets a little lonely around my apartment."

  "More likely, having to spend entire days in that place has gotten you thinking about how nice it would be to have someone empty your overflowing ashtrays, pick up the years of accumulated newspapers and magazines and find a clean pair of socks for you." Their conversation stopped again as the blonde returned to her table. David decided that the rear view was almost as interesting as the front.

  As Harry gave him a rundown of his itinerary, half of David's mind stayed with the mystery lady across the room. Who was she? Why had she met with Erica Donner? Did she work for the government like the other two women or was she from the business world, like Donner? The man carried the small bag, but which of them was leaving town? To where? Why?

  Questions were as enticing to David as a glimpse of a beautiful woman, but getting the answers was more exciting than any woman had ever turned out to be.

  When he saw the waitress hand the man the bill, he excused himself from Harry and hurried over to the couple's table.

  With barely a glance at the woman he dipped his head toward the older man. "Joe? Joe Thomas?"

  The man looked up from signing the charge slip. "No. I'm sorry. You've mistaken me for someone else."

  "You look so familiar. I'm David Wells, reporter for The Washington Herald. Perhaps we've met—"

  "Sorry. I don't recall." He tore off his copy of the form and rose. "If you'll excuse us..." He nodded to the woman and she gracefully departed with him.

  David prided himself on noticing the little things. The average person would have introduced himself in return. This man had no intention of revealing who he, or his companion, was. Yes, he had seen the way the man's gaze briefly darted to the woman in a clearly proprietary reflex that couldn't be mistaken as fatherly.

  Returning to Harry, David laughed to himself. Perhaps other men had used the same method to try to wangle an introduction to the lovely lady and the gentleman had seen through it. That was okay. The signature on the charge slip, a rather distinctive name, gave him something to go on.

  Even without the question of the blonde's connection to Erica Donner, the very secretiveness of Philip Sinkiewicz spurred him to discover who they were. That, and the fact that when the woman stood up next to him, she unconsciously ran her palms down her thighs to smooth her jeans and took a deep, chest-raising breath that nearly took his own away.

  He realized there was one other thing that had intrigued him about the woman. Even when he was speaking to her companion, she never looked up at him. David could not re
member any woman being so completely uninterested in what he looked like.

  All in all, the two of them might as well have waved a red flag in his face.

  Chapter 4

  Despite the long night ahead of her, Holly turned down the cup of coffee offered by the flight attendant. Her nerves were already ragged. Undoubtedly, it was due to everything she had heard that day and the confession she was about to make to her parents, but Philip had added to her tension.

  He hadn't said any more about it, yet she had the distinct impression he doubted her story about her lunch meeting. And he obviously felt left out when she didn't explain why she was going home so abruptly and didn't want him to go along as he normally would. She supposed his concern was understandable, considering the fact that she couldn't remember ever hiding anything from him before—with the exception of her one secret. She would have to straighten a lot of things out with him when she returned.

  Like his jealous reaction to that newspaper person. She had seen the bold way the man stared at her when she walked past him, but she carefully avoided meeting his gaze, as she always did with men. And it wasn't her fault he used the old mistaken identity line to get a closer look. Rather than say what he was really upset about, Philip had suggested she dress less provocatively when traveling. He was always protective of her, but he had never before made her feel—

  She shook her head to stop that line of thought. One problem at a time. Philip had been disturbed with her and it had nothing to do with her outfit.

  Could it have been more than the long lunch meeting or last-minute visit to her parents? Could he have seen the file April had given her? Surely if he had noticed it, he would have questioned her.

  She set the briefcase on her lap and opened it. On top, exactly as she had left it, was the alphabetical list of the fraternity brothers. The four names without the lines drawn through them seemed to jump off the page. Philip had to have seen it. And right beneath that was the file. One glance would have been enough to tell him that these things had nothing to do with Earth Guard.

  Could he have been so intent upon locating his missing report that he hadn't paid any attention to anything else, or had he not been completely honest when he said he had opened the case, changed his mind and closed it again without looking through it?

  Even if she told him the whole story, she wouldn't want him to know the men's names. There was always the possibility that he would run into one of them and feel obliged to say something. In fact, with Ziegler in Washington, the odds of that happening increased. She couldn't imagine how a confrontation would accomplish anything but embarrassment all around.

  She scanned the list of names again, wondering which might sound familiar to Philip, and decided it was highly unlikely that he would know any of those already scratched off. She wasn't certain if she had ever met them herself, though as they were all Jerry's fraternity brothers, she probably had. She also doubted that Philip would know Adam Frankowicz, but the last three names would be recognizable to a great many people.

  Moving aside the list, she stared at the name on the folder, debating whether she really wanted to open it and read what was inside. The letters swam together, but the name had been indelibly etched in her mind twenty-one years ago. For the first time since then she allowed herself to remember it all...

  * * *

  "Jerry Frampton. Mrs. Jerry Frampton. Holly Frampton." Holly smiled at her mirrored image. Yes, she definitely liked the sound of that. And after tonight, she could shout it to the world if she wanted to. She would have preferred to have seen a reflection weighing thirty pounds less and wearing contact lenses instead of thick-lensed glasses, but Jerry had told her she was beautiful so often, she was beginning to believe it.

  Holly's mother had convinced her long ago that God gave her a special gift that could only be given away one time and that she should be absolutely certain the recipient was deserving of the honor. She had also told her daughter that gift should only be given in exchange for a wedding ring. Because of her determination to choose well, Holly was probably one of the few virgins on Dominion's sprawling campus.

  Tonight that was going to change.

  A month ago, when Dominion's star quarterback had approached her about tutoring him, she had turned him down flat. He had heard how she had helped one of the basketball players pass math, but she had heard about his reputation as a walking sex organ.

  A lot of girls might have jumped at the opportunity to spend time with such a popular guy. He was tall, well-built and handsome as a movie star with his sun-bleached hair and sparkling smile, but Holly had no intention of letting him try to add her to his list of conquests.

  But then the football coach had practically begged her for the sake of the school. If Frampton didn't pass the course, he would soon be on the bench during the game instead of on the field. The coach swore he would warn the young man to behave himself if she would take the job.

  She wasn't sure whether the coach had actually spoken to Jerry or if all the terrible things she had heard about him were only malicious gossip spread by a brokenhearted ex-girlfriend—as Jerry kept insisting. Whichever it was, he behaved like a perfect gentleman during their tutoring sessions and really worked very hard. By their third lesson together, Holly knew all her worries about protecting her virtue from Jerry were groundless.

  As she changed her earrings for the third time, she mentally replayed the moment their relationship had changed. During their fifth session, Jerry had finally grasped the concept of an algebra equation they had been working on for some time. She recalled how his hazel eyes lit up with delight as he pulled her face toward his and kissed her mouth with a loud smack.

  She had tried to hide her surprise, tried to pretend it meant nothing to have his lips come in contact with hers, tried to ignore her heart crashing against her rib cage. She quit trying to do any of those things when his hands slid from her cheeks to her shoulders, and he kissed her again... for real.

  Her entire previous experience consisted of parental pecks or shy kisses from suitors in her own social and intellectual class. During the weeks that followed her first passionate kiss with Jerry, Holly spent as much time learning the nuances of necking as she did teaching him math. But she always stopped him before he got too carried away.

  She was now glad the girl who had planned to share her small apartment this semester had changed her mind. At first it had made her quite nervous to be there alone with Jerry but he repeatedly proved that she could trust him.

  Because of Jerry's curfew and the fact that he spent every hour outside of the classroom with her, she knew he was telling the truth when he said he wasn't seeing any other girls. She noticed the way other students looked at them when they passed and she guessed what they were saying, but Jerry always told her his opinion was the only one that counted.

  She finally believed him when they were in the library one day. While their heads were bent together over a problem, some of his fraternity brothers stopped to say hi, just as he rubbed his nose against hers. Jerry didn't pull away from her or act ashamed to be caught nuzzling a nerd, as she had thought he might. He introduced her to them respectfully, adding a compliment about her intelligence and helpfulness. By the end of that day, everyone knew she was "Jerry's girl" and started treating her like she was one of the in-crowd instead of just a freshman with a high IQ.

  Holly picked up the cute little stuffed dog he had given her a week ago and kissed its nose. He was always bringing her something—a flower, a chocolate kiss, a poem that had made him think of her. The puppy was her favorite, though, because of what it represented.

  When Jerry had handed it to her, it had a pink ribbon around its neck with a small card attached. It read, I love Holly, and so does the big guy next to me. That was the night they progressed to making out in a prone position with Jerry's hips pressed against her own. He left no doubt that he wanted more than kisses and touching her breasts through her clothes.

  She was not so
foolish as to let his sincere pleading alter her good sense. Saying he loved her more than any girl he'd ever known, wanted her so bad he ached, needed her desperately, were not the words she waited to hear, even though she believed that when he said them, he meant them.

  Two nights ago he finally spoke of the future, their future, and what it would be like if they were married and didn't have to part because it was time to say good night. He still had a year and a half before graduation. It seemed like such a long time away. He pushed a little harder after that discussion and Holly had let him unhook her bra and fondle her bare breasts beneath her sweater, mainly to let him know it had made a difference to hear him make a commitment to her, but again, she stopped him from going further.

  He had raised his voice to her for the first time, questioning how true her love really was and complaining that she couldn't feel the same way as he did or she would want to share the ultimate experience with him. She realized just how angry he had been when he had gone to last night's fraternity party without her. But he had called this morning and apologized, and asked to take her to a movie to make up.

  His talk of marriage and how very far away graduation was helped make up her mind. She would give up her plans to finish college; she had never really decided what she wanted to do anyway. Tonight she would tell him about her money—the fund that would enable their dream to come to fruition right away.

  For the first time, something positive would come out of the tragic deaths of her brother and sister. Their parents had bought life insurance endowment policies on each child at birth with the intention of using the proceeds for college. When death benefits were paid instead, the money was placed in a trust fund for Holly.

  She was really quite wealthy and could support Jerry until he graduated and got picked up by a professional team. There would be time enough in the future, after their babies were out of diapers, for her to finish her education if she wished to.

  She was not going to send him away again with a telltale bulge in his jeans.