The Senator's Wife

The Senator’s Wife

Jennifer Ferranno

Writers Club Press

San Jose New York Lincoln Shanghai

The Senator’s Wife

All Rights Reserved © 2001 by Jennifer Ferranno

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher.

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ISBN: 978-1-4697-0597-2 (ebook)

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Thanks to Beth, my dear friend and roommate who is always there for me. I would like to thank Mary for the hours she spent with me doing research in St. Augustine. (shopping was extra fun) Thanks to my parents, Paul and Barbara, who taught me values and work ethics. Thanks to my Amway/Quixtar upline for teaching me to set goals and go for my dreams.

It is difficult to list each person who has inspired me or has cheered me on through the writing process of this novel as well as others. The writer’s group of Orange Park Florida served as a sounding board and kept me focused.

To all of you, thanks bunches for your support.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Epilogue

About the Author

Chapter One 

Dana Sinclair replaced the telephone receiver in its cradle and sank slowly into the rose colored velvet chair staring at her trembling hands. He knew. Why else would her husband have canceled her Delta Flight from Washington DC to Florida? But how could he have possibly found out? She nervously crossed the bedroom and opened the tape case for what was probably the thousandth time in the past week. It was exactly where she put it. A tape that would prove that her husband, Senator Bradley Sinclair, was selling weapons to a terrorist. Dana’s plan had seemed simple enough when she’d thought of it. Since she was to fly to St. Augustine, Florida to address a group of women voters, telling them what a wonderful man her husband was and asking for their support in his bid for the oval office, it seemed as good of place as any to hand deliver the tape she’d made accidentally. Okay, it wasn’t really an accident, but if she hadn’t accidentally heard the first conversation, she wouldn’t have taped the second one. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on the conversation between her husband and the man named Tibbs, but after hearing the conversation between her husband and a Colonel Rafferty, she knew her conscience would not rest if she didn’t do something. Her husband was a traitor and he was going to run for President of the United States. So when the phone rang again she had simply pressed the record button on her hand held recorder and held her breath. Even now she could remember the cold, clipped tones, the threat. Bradley had been extremely upset that the two men had called his home. Dana had been a politician’s wife long enough to know business of any kind was best discussed in offices. Away from prying eyes. And curious wives.

Her dark eyes glanced around the bedroom, and she nervously ran her fingers through the mass of black curls, which cascaded over her shoulders. The man at the Delta reservations counter had been polite when he’d just called to inform her that her seven p.m. flight to Florida had been canceled and he was very sorry, there was nothing he could do. When she asked, he told her cancellation had come from Senator Sinclair’s office.

Be Calm, she told herself. There is no way possible he found out about the meeting she had set up with the FBI. She had completely covered her tracks, hadn’t she? Claiming to be a freelance reporter, she called the Bureau, volunteering to give up the tape she had recorded quite by accident. Refusing to meet an agent in Washington, she told them her next assignment was in Florida and she would be happy to hand it over at that time. Bradley Sinclair knew too many people in Washington for her to be seen chatting with a federal agent. The agent, a man named Sampson Garth, told her to contact him at the Florida office and he would personally recover the tape. He assured her a matter such as this would be handled at the top levels of his offices and thanked her for her concern.

If Bradley had somehow discovered her plan he wouldn’t have merely canceled her flight. He would have beaten her severely. After all, he had beaten her for less. No, with something this serious he would probably turn over to one of his hired goons and let them beat her, while he looked on. Or worse. Dana had often wondered why he felt he needed two bodyguards. No other senator, to her knowledge, had gun-carrying bodyguards. She frowned. Which one would be the one Bradley ordered to dump her lifeless body into the Potomac? Frank Marretti? He certainly seemed capable enough. He was full-blooded

Italian, mean as a diamondback, and probably just as deadly. He always made her feel uneasy when he stared at her, as if he felt she was a nuisance. His tall lanky frame always seemed ready to strike at some unseen foe. She knew he had been a cop in Boston or somewhere up north and that his uncle was a bigwig in the Mafia. Or would it be Kevin Mareoux? Kevin seemed to be the lesser of two evils, having an almost boyish quality about him. His blonde hair and blue eyes gave him the look of a California beach boy. However, when his eyes caught hers, it wasn’t an uneasy feeling she experienced. It was one of unwanted desire. The way his blue eyes boldly caressed her had caused her many sleepless nights. Of course, he would never act on that desire she saw in his expression, but she knew without a doubt, it was only loyalty to her husband that kept him distant. She smiled. What would he do if Bradley ordered him to make her disappear? The smile faded. He was as dirty as Frank and she needed to remember behind that innocent face and dimpled smile was the black heart of another traitor. Kevin was an ex-CIA agent, accused of murder. Although she didn’t know all the details she knew that he had killed in cold blood more than once. She would be just as dead, no matter who got the orders. Maybe she was jumping to conclusions. Surely if Bradley knew the tape existed, he would have taken steps to retrieve it by now. Even if he didn’t believe his own wife would betray him, he wouldn’t leave evidence lying around. Not even in his house. Maybe he canceled her flight because he didn’t want her going away from Washington for three days? Maybe he didn’t trust her. She sighed. No…she had given him no reason not to trust her. She had always been the dutiful wife, the perfect hostess. She had never allowed her true feeling about her marriage to show, especially in the public eye. In public, she was always the adoring, supportive wife, smiling and looking at him as if he was the man of her dreams. It was only in private that they ignored each other. She looked at him with disgust and he looked at her with something mildly short of hatred.

Dana returned the tape to its hiding place. When had their marriage soured? When had it not been sour? What had happened to the dashing man she had married only five short years ago? She had known he was ambitious from the moment they met at a political dinner. She knew he was intelligent and witty and after they met, he dominated her every spare moment until after the honeymoon. Even at the young age of 38, he had those distinguished looking silver streaks in his dark hair. His eyes always seemed to twinkle with mischief and she remembered how tall and straight he stood, how proud of her he seemed. Her parents were overjoyed with her good fortune and when he proposed they assured her she was making the right decision. Only after the wedding had Dana Denning discovered the other side of her new husband. He was cruel on her wedding night and had been cruel ever since. He delighted in inflicting pain and his cruel streak bordered on perverted and disgusting. Dana learned quickly it was best to keep quiet at home, or chance being beaten in her bed. The adoration she felt quickly turned to hate and she wanted to be as far from him as possible as often as possible. Instead of eagerly awaiting her husband to come in from his office, she began to pray he would be late, work over, and go out with friends. Anything. When she learned about the other women he sought his pleasure with, she was relieved. Finally, he stopped subjecting her to his sexual attentions and took his perversions elsewhere. The only kind thing he had ever done for her was to allow her to keep her personal maid, the Denning housekeeper. Nora had been Dana’s nanny as well as cook and maid from the time she was old enough to remember. Nora had patched her scrapes and cuts and listened to her teenage problems. Nora could fix almost anything and the jovial chubby black woman was always ready with a joke or a smile. But, even Nora couldn’t fix Dana’s marriage. There would be no divorce either. Bradley Sinclair assured her of that. She was trapped in a nightmare of her own making, and the tape was her only way out.

What should she do now? Call the Women’s group in Florida and cancel? Confront Bradley? She stared out the window and saw Bradley’s driver polishing the limo. In a flash, Dana made up her mind. She would confront Bradley and demand to know why he had canceled her flight. She had never been afraid of anything and had never backed down once her mind was made up and she was not about to start now, when her country was close to putting a traitor in the White House. If he knew or suspected anything, it would be out in the open and she would do her best to survive whatever followed. Maybe it was nothing more than his possessiveness. She could appeal to his ego. It was because of her support of him she was going, to speak in his behalf, to secure votes and goodwill. Hurrying down the stairway, she barely paused to grab her handbag before she left the house and crossed to the driveway. Jimmy, could you please drive me to my husband’s office? It’s important.

Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Sinclair. Without another word, the tall man opened the car door for her and moments later they were cruising toward downtown Washington. Dana had made up her mind. She was going to Florida, even if she had to rent a car and drive there. If it came to that, she knew it had better be a one-way trip, because there would be no coming back. Bradley Sinclair was not the type of person to be defied. Well, neither was she.

Chapter Two 

Bradley Sinclair smiled as he touched the flame of his gold lighter to the computer printout, watching it turn to ash in the crystal ashtray. Life in Washington DC was profitable these days, if you didn’t mind dealing a shady card now and then. Even as a young man, he grew up believing laws were made to be broken and the spoils went to the ones who didn’t concern themselves with other people. As an attorney he had bribed many police officials and others to get a successful verdict. His first year in the senate was his most difficult, as he ferreted out individuals who could be bribed or threatened without causing undue risk to his own exemplary reputation.

On the surface he was an American hero, a perfect gentleman, with a beautiful wife. He had everything that was required by the American public to make him a top choice for a presidential candidate. Men saw him as a man who could get things done and women were overwhelmed by his looks and charm. Beneath the surface, where the naive citizens never bothered to look lurked a completely different image. His Swiss and Cayman accounts held millions of untraceable income from a variety of illegal sources. There were drug deals with the Colombian Cartel, and the stolen weapons he had sold to Major Tibbs. What did it matter that Tibbs would use the RPG’s and Uzi’s to wage his acts of terrorism against other smaller countries? Tibbs wasn’t dumb enough to terrorize the United States so who cared? Although these deals made Bradley millions, his favorite and newest project was his girls. It had been a natural for him. By serving on the Board of Directors of a Safe House for teenage runaways, Bradley had his pick of some lush, ripe young female flesh. The first time a sweet, young teen had offered herself to him, he had been mildly surprised, but it had led to hours of uninhibited sex and the contented girl introduced him to her friends, all eager and willing to please. When one of the girls voiced a desire to run so far away no one would ever find her, Bradley was happy to help. He sold her to a man he had met several years before. It had been easy to set up the transfer. Girls who wanted to run away weren’t missed, so he arranged for them to be shipped out in a cargo ship, first to France, then on the Africa where they ended up in brothels, servicing all kinds of men. His friend and partner inside the FBI secretly checked the girl’s records so there were no concerned parents to be dealt with. At thirty thousand a girl, it was a lucrative sideline. It was foolproof. Sampson Garth was as corrupt as Bradley himself and was very thorough in the girl’s background checks. If there was even a hint of interest from a relative, Sinclair won the adoration of his public by returning the girls to grateful parents. Only the girls with no shadows in their past were picked. Garth had as much to lose as Sinclair if they were ever apprehended. As a senior agent for the Bureau, he made a good salary and had great benefits. His service record was spotless. With Sinclair holding tapes of Garth’s nights with underage teens, there was no way he could refuse.

Sinclair’s gray eyes lifted to his two bodyguards, his enforcers. Frank Marretti leaned casually against the window ledge smoking a cigarette. Frank had been a Boston cop, dissatisfied with never making enough money. He had turned his back while his uncle; a Mafia honcho had operated his illegal businesses under everyone’s nose. He left the force one step ahead of an incitement, moving to DC where he had been working for friends of his uncle. Security, he’d called it. When Bradley had put out feelers for enforcers, Marretti answered the summons. Marretti was pure Italian, with black hair and almost black eyes. He stood over six feet and had a way with the ladies. He had been instrumental in procuring women for Bradley on the nights Bradley didn’t want to go home to Dana.

Standing by the office door, poised to strike, swing or shoot, was Kevin Mareoux. Kevin was opposite to Frank in his coloring, but just as deadly. A third degree black belt and expert marksman, the blonde haired, blue-eyed surfer gave an appearance of total innocence. Bradley figured it was that look that put men at ease so Kevin could get close enough to kill. An ex-CIA agent, Mareoux had been disavowed when he murdered a woman in cold blood, after a drug deal went sour. He showed up in the senator’s office an hour behind Frank, and Bradley put them both on the payroll. To be on the safe side he had Garth pull their files, which were in a safe at the Sinclair home, along with pictures of both men in compromising situations. Best not to take chances. Both men had been given extensive polygraphs before being allowed to participate in the Senator’s activities. Sinclair suspected Frank had a drug habit, but as long as it didn’t interfere with his ability to do his job, all the better. As for Kevin, he was so secretive about his personal life, Bradley considered he might have been a plant. But he had crossed the line the night Bradley managed to video tape him and Frank enjoying themselves with a 16 year old.

Another successful business deal completed, Bradley said to them with a smile.

Tibbs will be happy with his new toys, Frank chuckled. These were state-of-the-art.

Kevin’s cell phone rang and he answered it quickly, listened for a minute and ended the call. Senator, I need to talk to you about your wife.

What about her? Bradley arched a brow.

You are aware that she is to speak this weekend in Florida to the Ladies Society for Decency.

I believe she mentioned it.

Kevin continued. She had a ticket for a Delta flight leaving this evening.

"I assume you have