Lust and Lies 04 - Pretty Maids in a Row

exactly what you set out for—my body, my soul, and a story to die for. The story was to be your reward from me. What was my reward supposed to be? A good fuck? Let me tell you something, love, no man is that good."
    She lowered her lashes and took a deep breath. When she met his gaze again, her voice was level. "We both lied, David. And we both used each other, but what you did was so much uglier. Considering the fact that you got shot and I only got my feelings hurt, I'd say we're about even." Tightly reined fury and disgust sent her marching toward the door to escape before she fell apart in front of him.
    "Holly! You can't leave."
    She froze without turning around.
    "Agent Quick will be here any minute. No matter how either of us feels right now, you have to talk to him."
    How could she have forgotten? "I'll be back in fifteen minutes," she said. As she opened the door, she pasted on a smile for the police officer and offered to get him a cup of coffee. She'd be damned if she'd let the rest of the world see how David had hurt her.
    By the time she returned, she was calm, cool, and collected... at least on the outside. Inside was going to take a lot longer, but she told herself the comfortable, emotionless void would return eventually.
    Three very average-looking men greeted her as she re-entered David's room. The FBI had apparently arrived.

Chapter 20

    Jerry Frampton glowered at the typed message, as if by sheer willpower he could make more words appear. Something that would let him know if this was a hoax, police entrapment—or the real thing.

    I have a movie I'm sure you'd be interested in trading for something I want from you. No cash necessary. Go ALONE to the Clifton Hotel on Glades Road in Boca Raton. Register at the front desk. A room has already been reserved in your name. Wait for my call. If I am told you have not checked in by 4 AM, I will turn the DVD over to the FBI. Bring this note and the envelope with you. If you obey all of my instructions to the letter, no one will get hurt.

    That fucking prick D'Angelo! He should have had that greaseball taken out months ago, when his attorney first suggested it, but he had hesitated out of a leftover sense of indebtedness. Just goes to show what loyalty was worth these days. He glanced at his watch again—one-thirty a.m. He had to make a decision soon, and he couldn't think of anything else to do but go.
    The message had been delivered in a plain brown envelope by a private courier service at ten p.m. His personal signature had been required. Since there was no return address, he questioned its origin, but the courier only knew that he'd picked it up at the front desk of the Clifton Hotel. Jerry then called the service's night manager and was informed that they received a telephone request for the pickup and special delivery. A sizable cash payment was left for the courier in a separate envelope to guarantee prompt delivery.
    The next call Jerry made was to his attorney. Afraid of a wiretap, he ordered the man to come to the estate immediately. The attorney assured him that the cop had been well paid to destroy the DVD, but it might not have been quite enough to overcome the temptation to extort a bit more, given such a golden opportunity.
    They weighed the risks and alternatives and came to the conclusion that Frampton had little choice except to check it out. Before he left the privacy of his well-guarded estate, he reconsidered taking a gun. The attorney effectively discouraged him, however, by pointing out that if he was walking into a police trap instead of a meeting with a greedy cop, the attorney could always find a way to refute anything Frampton said to them. But if he was caught carrying a concealed weapon while he was out on bail, he'd be going back to jail and staying there this time.
    He also gave a second thought to taking a guard with him. Though this business over D'Angelo and the film was his primary concern, he hadn't forgotten about Ziegler's and O'Day's murders. But a guard could later turn into a witness and he knew it was best to handle this matter alone.
    Thus, alone, unarmed and prepared to confront a dirty cop, Jerry Frampton drove his new red Ferrari to the Clifton Hotel.

Chapter 21

    Rachel gulped down the entire contents of her glass without taking a breath, then closed her eyes while the fiery amber liquid hit her stomach. When she reopened her eyes the tremors had calmed enough for her to dial the number.
    "Hello?"
    The