Cover Story
Manipulated? Brenda Lampley
Waiting to learn her fate, Brenda Lampley sits next to her lawyer at the defense table, her face buried in her hands. Occasionally, she uncovers her eyes long enough to glance over at family and friends filling the first two pew-like rows in the frigid courtroom. Each glimpse is fleeting, and then she begins to sob, wiping her eyes with a moist, tattered tissue. This scene is repeated several times before the judge enters the massive courtroom inside the U.S. District Court in Nashville in late October.
Wearing an oversized, green jail-issued jumpsuit that envelopes her small frame, Lampley sits up in her chair when the proceedings begin. Staring straight ahead, she pulls another tissue from the box in front of her and wipes the lenses of her glasses as the judge launches into a brief history of the case. He details the nine counts with which she initially was charged, and ultimately the single count to which she pleaded guilty: conspiracy to commit a federal crime of violence involving the killing of an officer of the United States. One word—“killing”—captures her attention as though it’s just now registering why she’s here. Lampley again breaks down, although her sobs are muffled and barely audible in the cavernous room. Her elbows on the table, she props up her head with her fists, still weeping, and doesn’t look up again for several minutes.
Those who know Lampley say she came to sit at this defendant’s table following a tragic chain of events. Described as charitable, honest and devoted to friends, family and even acquaintances, Lampley led a law-abiding life for more than 50 years. Then she met Parley “Drew” Hardman. In the year or so before they met, Lampley survived cancer, a heart attack and a bitter divorce. It was an almost unbearable series of struggles that left her depressed and, fortunately for Hardman, vulnerable, making it easy for him to sweep her off her feet.
The U.S. marshal escorts Lampley, 56, across the courtroom to the witness stand. The room is silent, except for the clink, clink sound of shackles locked around her ankles. Lampley sits to the right of the judge as her lawyer approaches the stand. He asks Lampley about her background—where she grew up, her family, her line of work. Then he asks about her involvement with Hardman, and ultimately, her role in this plot.
“Of course, now I look back and see how stupid I was,” she says, adding that after everything she had been through, she was desperate to make this relationship work. Little by little, Hardman asked for help until finally he succeeded in luring her into his wicked web. At first he just needed money to help pay legal bills stemming from his first trial, during which he was convicted of hiring a hit man to kill his ex-wife. “I didn’t want to say ‘no’ and I couldn’t,” she explains. So Lampley borrowed $175,000 from the bank to help, but it soon became clear Hardman expected more. He wanted her assistance in a second murder plot he had concocted. “I told him several times ‘don’t make me do this, I don’t want to be involved.’ But I did it.”
|
---------------------------Advertisement---------------------------
|
|
---------------------------Advertisement---------------------------
|
Both Brenda Lampley and Drew Hardman were in the wake of failed marriages when they met. But while Lampley was grieving, lonely and mending a broken heart, Hardman was angry, reckless and, as it turns out, plotting revenge.
It didn’t take long for Lampley to fall for Hardman, and although her friends and family weren’t exactly pleased with her choice in men, they were reassured because for the first time in a long time she seemed to care about life. But soon Lampley began exhibiting troubling behaviors—excessive drinking, missing work and neglecting friends and family to spend all her free time with Hardman. These destructive tendencies, though, would pale in comparison to the criminal path Lampley eventually would tread.
Not only would she stand by Hardman after he was caught plotting to have his ex-wife murdered, she eventually would join in on a second vengeful machination he concocted while behind bars. This time, Hardman’s murderous plan again included his ex-wife as a target, as well as a federal prosecutor and two witnesses from his first case.
“I told the jury in the first trial that Hardman was a man who was filled with vindictive violence. It looks like I described him correctly to the jury,” assistant U.S. attorney Sunny Koshy tells the Scene during a recent interview. The government lawyer successfully prosecuted Hardman, now 50, for attempting to arrange a hit on his ex-wife, Cherilynn Collins, and subsequently became one of his targets because of it.
Bad Company Drew Hardman
And unlike most defendants who stand before a judge and jury, Hardman didn’t even attempt to appear sorry for either of these heinous plots, which have landed him in prison for a combined total of 35 years—presumably the rest of his life. There wasn’t a bit of feigned sorrow, Koshy says, much less any sincere remorse for what he had done.
But that wasn’t the case with co-defendant Brenda Lampley.
“I think she was sorry for what she did. She realized that what she did was wrong. She told the court she was prepared to serve her sentence. I think she was happy she cooperated with the government,” says Koshy, adding that he doesn’t believe weakness, desperation or manipulation are any excuse for her criminal behavior. But, he adds, “It’s up to all these people to change themselves and I think she’s on the path.”
After living in Michigan her entire life, Cherilynn Collins was ready for a change and moved to Nashville in 1997. As an accomplished country-and-western dance instructor, it seemed like the perfect fit. Collins taught dance at honky-tonks and nightclubs, which is how she eventually met Drew Hardman, who occasionally attended her classes. The two hit it off right away. A few weeks after their first introduction, Collins mentioned in passing that she was planning to have a deck built on the back of her house, and Hardman, a carpenter by trade, offered to do the work in exchange for dance lessons.
A few months into their relationship, Collins moved back to Plymouth, Mich., after her father died. The two kept in touch, however, and Hardman visited periodically. During one of those trips, he proposed marriage and she accepted. The pair wed in August 2000, and Collins once again relocated to Tennessee, this time to Murfreesboro, where Hardman owned a house. The move was supposed to be temporary, according to Collins, who said Hardman agreed he eventually would go with her to Michigan.
After they exchanged vows, though, life changed. Months went by with no mention of moving, and eventually it became clear it never was going to happen, Collins later told a judge during Hardman’s first trial. Hardman was no longer the nice guy with whom she fell in love, Collins testified, and eventually he became physically violent. At one point, she said, “He grabbed me and put me on the kitchen floor and…had my hands above my head and his knee was across my neck.” That was the summer of 2001, when she left him, returned to Michigan and filed for divorce.
Even Hardman’s daughter, Norma Lee Hardman, testified that her father became a different man after he married Collins, calling it a “stressful” time. She said her father frequently became extremely jealous. He even was jealous of Collins’ dog, a black cocker spaniel named Maggie. “He was just like, you know, ‘she puts that dog above me,’ ” according to Norma Lee, one of Hardman’s three grown children from his first marriage.
But even with these violent outbursts, jealous rages and volatile mood swings, no one who knew Hardman anticipated what was to come next.
Long before her involvement in this nefarious scheme, Brenda Lampley was well known in Franklin, where she’s lived most of her life. It’s where she married, raised a son and, in 1988, started her own business, Reflections Hair Salon, in the heart of downtown Franklin. Over the years, she gained a loyal clientele. (A few even wrote letters to the judge on her behalf before her sentencing.) Even with her long hours at work, those who know Lampley say family always came first.
When her only child was still a boy, doctors diagnosed him with a variety of learning and behavioral disorders. When teachers told her a diploma was unlikely, Lampley challenged the Williamson County school board for failing to meet her son’s needs and urged the board to start a program for disabled children. She filed a lawsuit and ultimately won, and the program she was instrumental in creating more than a decade ago still exists.
Over the years, Lampley earned a reputation for being generous, sometimes to a fault. Lampley’s friends and co-workers say she frequently loaned money to acquaintances, whether it was to pay for school, buy a car or make rent. She sometimes gave clients free haircuts when they were short on cash. Whenever a longtime customer died, Lampley would visit the funeral home free of charge before the viewing to make sure the client’s hair was just right. When her older brother suffered a stroke and ended up in a nursing home, she bought a new house and converted a garage apartment into handicap-accessible quarters so he could move in and she could care for him. “I wouldn’t be here today if it hadn’t been for her help,” her only brother, David Youngblood, told a judge shortly after his sister’s arrest in this case.
Brenda Lampley rarely said “no” to anyone, and still she managed to find time for her family and to maintain a successful business. But within a matter of months, life as she knew it came crashing down.
One afternoon in early 2001, Lampley was at her salon when she received devastating news: after 26 years of marriage, her husband was leaving her without warning. Still recovering from a double mastectomy as a result of breast cancer, Lampley says the divorce tore her life apart. Making the situation even more unbearable was her son’s decision to side with his father in the divorce. He eventually refused even to speak with Lampley (according to her friends, for no apparent reason). “It broke my heart,” Lampley tearfully recalls from the witness stand during her sentence hearing. “I felt like I was in this world all by myself and that I didn’t have anybody who loved me.”
Shortly after the divorce was final, Lampley suffered a heart attack. Already taking anti-depressants, she began taking various heart medications as well and, despite warnings to avoid alcohol, Lampley began drinking heavily for the first time in her life. Her appearance suffered as a result of this lifestyle, and her once youthful face seemed to age years in a short period of time. But her physical transformation was nothing compared to her emotional decline—even Lampley admits to contemplating suicide on more than one occasion.
“It was just a devastating blow to her. She was just so depressed she didn’t know which way to turn,” Serena House told the judge on behalf of Lampley, a longtime friend. House, who has worked at Lampley’s salon since 1990, said, “Sometimes I’d wonder if one day I would go into the shop and find that she did something to herself.”
Then, in the fall of 2001, Lampley met someone who would change her life. At the time, he seemed like a savior, but eventually Drew Hardman would be her downfall. The two were introduced by one of Lampley’s customers, and Lampley immediately latched on to Hardman, who clearly controlled the relationship. She would anxiously wait for him to call, and if he didn’t, she became distraught. Sometimes he would pull away for weeks at a time, and then return and shower her with attention. Although friends say Lampley was once again hopeful about something, it was apparent she was heading in a dangerous direction.
As the relationship became more serious, Lampley’s business suffered. The same woman who for years worked 12-hour days was now missing appointments, showing up late and closing the shop early to spend time with Hardman, frequently going out until the early morning hours. Friends say it was obvious Hardman was playing her, but Lampley didn’t see it that way. “It seemed more like an infatuation or a crush,” Vee Blanton, a friend of Lampley’s for 17 years, told the court. “She just seemed so desperate.”
Given that Lampley was so determined to make it work, her friends say it’s understandable how she might have been oblivious as Hardman arranged the first hit against his ex-wife. In fact, prosecutors in the first case never suggested she was in on or even aware of that scheme. But how she could stay loyal to Hardman after his arrest and conviction is a question even those closest to Lampley can’t quite answer. Even more baffling is how far she eventually went to please him.
“She’s a grown woman…. She didn’t have to go through with it. She could have told him ‘no’ at any time,” Sunny Koshy says, describing Lampley as an educated woman who was capable of running her own business. “To say she was too weak or manipulated sort of demeans women.… She made this decision based on her own motive, whatever that motive was, whether it was love or whatever.”
What started as a twisted fantasy turned into a seemingly attainable goal after Hardman crossed paths with a former member of the Mafia sent to live here in Nashville through the federal witness protection program. After serving time in a federal prison for a host of felonies, Marvin Droznek entered witness protection and assumed the name Marvin Drake. The former member of La Cosa Nostra had testified against a few of the organization’s kingpins the late 1980s, leading to the largest prosecution of mobsters ever in western Pennsylvania and putting him in danger of retaliation. A few years after settling in Tennessee with a new identity, however, Droznek resumed his real name and returned to a life of crime, which included large-scale drug distribution and a lucrative business as a loan shark.
It was one of Droznek’s regular borrowers—a friend and customer of Brenda Lampley—who eventually introduced Hardman to the former mobster. In passing, Lampley mentioned she was concerned about her friend’s dealings with this gangster-turned-loan shark, and immediately Hardman was interested in arranging a meeting. Although Hardman told Lampley he just wanted to see about borrowing money, his real motive turned out to be much more sinister.
When the two finally met, Hardman revealed what it was he really sought: a professional criminal who was willing to murder his ex-wife. Given his history of violence, Droznek didn’t shy away from the prospect of arranging a murder-for-hire. As the two began negotiating the hit, Hardman quickly learned the murder would cost as much as $50,000, which was much more money than he intended to dish out for revenge. But then there was another option. Apparently, severely injuring Collins would cost considerably less, and so they settled on alternate plan for the bargain basement price of $2,000.
For two grand the attacker would stake out Collins’ house in Michigan, waiting undercover until she took her dog out for a late-night walk. The assailant then would emerge armed with a 2-by-4 and shatter her kneecaps, leaving her crippled and writhing in the street. As a bonus, he would kill her cocker spaniel, Maggie, too. Then, to prove the deed was accomplished, the attacker would bring back the diamond pendant necklace Collins always wears.
So Hardman provided Droznek with all the necessary information about his target: a photograph, an old driver’s license, an address and the names of nightclubs where she frequently danced. But instead of carrying out the job, Droznek outsourced the assignment to another former mobster with whom he frequently did business. It was a decision that ultimately unraveled the vicious scheme.
The Professional Hit man Marvin Droznek
Joe Lucas, a.k.a. Joe Roselli, ended up in Nashville via a path much like the one taken by Droznek. A longtime operative in the New York City-based Gambino crime family, Lucas worked as an enforcer for Mob boss John Gotti. After cooperating with law enforcement and testifying against a few high-ranking Gambino members, Lucas entered the witness protection program, which brought him to Tennessee. Not long after arriving in Nashville, Lucas began dabbling in crime once again, this time working for Droznek as an enforcer charged with recouping outstanding debts. But the Mafia apparently hadn’t given up on finding Lucas, and several attempts were made on his life. It was enough to scare Lucas straight, prompting him to work with the FBI again in exchange for enhanced protection. So when Droznek asked Lucas to carry out this assault, the information was handed over to federal agents with whom he was cooperating.
Droznek was arrested right away and agreed to help the FBI take down Hardman. Collins was told of the planned attack, and she too was in on the ruse to nab her ex-husband. The plan was to convince Hardman that the assault had been carried out, giving him Collins’ diamond necklace as proof.
Wearing a wire, Droznek met with Hardman to hand over the necklace and to give him details of the alleged attack. Hardman was so pleased with the outcome that he mentioned the possibility of hiring him for another job. As FBI agents listened in, they were shocked with what came next. This time, Hardman was considering taking out a hit on an ex-girlfriend who lived in Murfreesboro, as well as country music star Travis Tritt, whom he claimed was involved with another one of his former loves. Whether these subsequent threats were real or in jest—he never was charged for those statements—it was clear Hardman was a depraved man with violent thoughts.
Believing the brutal attack had occurred and that Collins was recovering from two broken legs, Hardman had the audacity to send her a get well card that read, “I am sorry to hear about your unfortunate experience.” The bold move would be his last as a free man. Hardman was arrested Sept. 23, 2002, and charged with conspiracy to commit interstate stalking and murder-for-hire.
During the trial in federal court, both former mobsters Droznek and Lucas testified, along with Collins. Assistant U.S. attorney Sunny Koshy convinced a jury of Hardman’s guilt, and he was convicted in the spring of 2003 on all counts. Facing a 15-year sentence, Hardman could have been released by the age of 62, giving him a chance to one day reenter society a free man.
Throughout the investigation and trial and even after his conviction, Brenda Lampley continued to support Hardman, attending all of his court proceedings and frequently visiting him in jail. Her loyalty suggested maybe there was something redeeming in Hardman after all—that maybe this plot was just a momentary lapse of judgment.
At least that’s what Hardman’s defense lawyer argued, suggesting his crime was just a tragic misstep. In court papers filed as Hardman awaited sentencing in the first case, his lawyer attempted to explain his client’s actions: “The defendant had recently gone through a divorce from his first wife of many years. The subsequent abrupt divorce from his second wife, the victim in this case, simply drove him over a mental and emotional edge, rendering him unable to stop or even slow down this decent (sic) into the admittedly inappropriate and highly dangerous conduct that culminated in his conviction in this case.” The lawyer went on to assure the judge that Hardman “no longer bares (sic) ill will toward the victim.”
But at the same time this court document was filed, Hardman already was concocting another murderous plot. This time, not only was he planning to have his ex murdered, but also three others he believed were to blame for foiling his first plan and landing him in prison.
Risky Business Reflections Hair Salon, owned by Brenda Lampley
While in Nashville’s Metro jail awaiting sentencing, Hardman met another prisoner with whom he had something in common—Sunny Koshy had prosecuted both. Not only did Hardman assume fellow inmate Juan Canela would share his desire for vengeance, but he also believed the convicted felon had ties to the Mafia. To Hardman, this represented a second chance—another opportunity to carry out a murder-for-hire, this time on a much grander scale.
“He was approached by Hardman, who believed he had ties to organized crime, the Gambino crime family,” Claude Whisenant, special agent with the FBI, later testified in federal court. “He approached the witness to elicit some type of hit that he had formulated.”
Despite what Canela led Hardman to believe, he had no intention of helping him pull off this deadly scheme. The career criminal instead was interested in helping himself by turning the information over to law enforcement. In exchange, he hoped for some favorable treatment, possibly a reduction in the time he was serving for drug trafficking. So Canela told his lawyer about Hardman’s plan to have a hit man assassinate four targets: federal prosecutor Sunny Koshy and the three key witnesses from his first trial, former Mob men Droznek and Lucas, and once again his ex-wife, Cherilynn Collins.
Because both Droznek and Lucas had testified against the Mafia in the past, Hardman apparently believed he would be doing the Mob a favor by revealing their locations so they could be killed. In return, he boldly presumed the Mafia, as a show of gratitude, would be willing to help him by sending a hit man to take out Koshy and Collins.
“He would be facilitating the find of these two individuals that the Mafia was looking for. In turn for that favor, he then would have this Mafia hit man take care of individuals that he wanted…Sunny Koshy and his ex-wife,” according to testimony from Whisenant, a member of the FBI’s violent crimes task force in Nashville.
After receiving the tip, authorities devised an undercover operation to again catch Hardman in the act. It would start with FBI informant Juan Canela claiming he turned over the information about Droznek and Lucas to his organized crime connections, and that in exchange the Mafia was interested in helping Hardman. That’s when an undercover FBI agent would enter the picture, posing as a Mob hit man. Throughout a series of recorded conversations and meetings between the undercover agent and Hardman, details of the deadly endeavor would emerge.
In his first phone call to the undercover agent, Hardman speaks in code, acting as though he’s talking to a building contractor about a potential construction project. In fact, he’s relaying information about his intended targets, whom he refers to as “building inspectors.”
By the time Brenda Lampley came aboard this criminal enterprise, the undercover operation was already well under way. The first evidence of her involvement emerged on Nov. 7, 2003, during a recorded telephone conversation with Hardman, who told her a “friend” was coming to visit and that she needed to come up with money to cover his travel expenses. The friend Hardman was referring to was the undercover agent, whom he believed was visiting to gather information about the hits.
Although Lampley agreed to provide $500, it’s unclear whether she realized at that point exactly what the money was for. As the conversation continued, though, it became less a question of whether Lampley was aware of what was going on and more a question of how much she actually knew. Then Hardman asked her to meet with his “friend” and give him the money when he arrives into town, and to describe the appearances of his two intended targets—Sunny Koshy and Cherilynn Collins, whom he called “the bitch in Michigan.” It’s Lampley’s response to this request that may very well have sealed her fate. “Oh,” she said, “I have pictures.”
But in subsequent conversations Lampley sounded increasingly reluctant. At one point she asked, “Why do I have to be involved?” She even warned Hardman that this might be a setup, a notion he quickly disregarded, telling her to stop worrying. He attempted to alleviate her fears, assuring her that once he gets out of jail, life will be different, and that their only worries will be deciding where to vacation. He promised to take her to a sunny beach, maybe in the Caribbean, or even to Australia. It was enough to keep her faithful once again. Hardman then warned that when he gets out Lampley will to have to stop caring for her brother because he’s too much of a burden. “I know your brother loves you and he really depends on you. But things are gonna be different, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m not threatening you.… I’m just saying he’s gonna have to rely on someone else.”
On Nov. 13, 2003, the undercover agent arrived in Nashville to discuss the planned hit. First, he met with Hardman at the jail. Hardman freely discussed the plot, as the agent recorded the conversation via wiretap. He explained to the agent how he’d been scheduled to be sentenced in the first case in one month, and that he planned to seek a retrial. Hardman believed there were serious flaws with his defense in the first trial, so he was confident a new one would be granted. But by the time that happened, the star witnesses all would be dead, leading to—at least in his mind—a likely acquittal.
Hardman then rehashed the first case, saying, “I was tryin’ to get my ex-wife killed…she fucked me over…she was just a fuckin’ gold digger.” He went on to tell him that Collins was living with another man, and suggested that if it’s easier, or less noticeable, the hit man could kill them both. Hardman then attempted to provide a description of Sunny Koshy, calling him a “dark-complected Oriental” who is short, slender and drives a maroon car. Then he said, “He’s dirty. He’s a lyin’, two-faced.… He is screwin’ people over like you cannot believe.” When the undercover agent asked how he wanted Collins and Koshy killed, Hardman responded, “knife, gun, it don’t matter.”
The two then settled on a time and place for the undercover agent to meet with Lampley, who was to reimburse him for his flight from New York City to Nashville. When the agent asked Hardman whether Lampley understood what was going on, Hardman said she did, but added that she was nervous about being involved.
A few hours later, Lampley and the undercover agent met in the nearly deserted parking lot of LP Field. At the agent’s request, the two talked in his Cadillac, which unbeknownst to Lampley was equipped with an audio device, allowing federal agents to listen in on their conversation. Once in the car, Lampley lit up a cigarette, then anxiously asked where she could flip her ashes. The two began to discuss money—the plane ticket cost $1,300, but Lampley only had $500. The agent said she could just give him the remainder next time he was in town. Then, when the undercover agent began to talk about the planned hits, Lampley asked if he was bugged. He told her to relax, but she said, “I can’t. I’m scared to death.”
Lampley said she wants to know “a little bit of what’s going on,” and asked the agent whether he was in the Mafia. When he told her that was a bad question to ask, she apologized profusely and then launched into a series of explanations for her behavior: “I’m scared to death.… I’m just a Southern country girl.… I’m so afraid.”
To prove that Lampley was in fact aware of Hardman’s intentions, the undercover agent began to discuss the plan in detail, naming each of the intended targets. Saying as little as possible, Lampley concurred. With a nervous laugh, she asked the agent, “My name’s not on the list, is it?” As soon as she said it, Lampley swore she didn’t mean it. “I’ll probably end up being in the slammer with him anyway. That’s what I’m afraid of,” she said. With that, Lampley told the agent to have a safe flight. The two agreed that next time he came to town she would have the rest of his money. Lampley said, “OK, darlin’,” as if the two were old friends, and then slammed the door.
As she approached her car, a swarm of FBI agents converged on the desolate parking lot. Lampley was arrested and charged with nine counts, including conspiracy, solicitation to kill an officer of the court, retaliation against federal witnesses and interstate stalking.
“She is clearly not a marginal player in this case,” federal prosecutor Jennifer Thompson said during a detention hearing just days after her arrest. “She may not be the driving force, but there is no doubt that she knows what’s going on and is willing to help in any way she can.”
It’s been three years since her arrest, and Lampley’s once-bustling hair salon now appears abandoned. Although friends, family and co-workers have attempted to maintain the business, the salon was closed in the middle of the afternoon on two recent visits. Inside the dark rooms, old-fashioned hair dryers, wicker furniture and other quaint touches can be seen through the windows of the pale-yellow cottage Lampley transformed into a thriving business.
Less than a half-mile away, Lampley’s house is empty too. There’s no For Sale sign in front of the modest, gray Cape Cod on North Petway, but it’s apparent no one lives there. Several newspapers are piled up on the front porch, and the grass is overgrown. There’s still a sign on the front door that says “Welcome Friends,” as well as a few kitschy lawn ornaments.
A woman living across the street says someone comes by every few weeks to check on the house. The neighbor says she didn’t know Lampley very well, “just enough to wave across the street when we were coming and going. That is, until she got arrested.” The garage apartment is empty, too, and Lampley’s brother is back in a nursing home. The neighbor says she expects Lampley to move back in across the street once she gets out of prison.
But that won’t be for another three-and-a-half years.
Before the judge hands down her sentence, Lampley addresses the court. She doesn’t make any excuses for her behavior, but attempts to relay the hardships she endured leading up to her involvement with Hardman. “It’s like I was an entirely different person. I don’t know where that person came from,” she says. Looking back, it seems Lampley was the last to realize Hardman took advantage of her, and it’s obvious she’s consumed with shame.
Prosecutors agree she was victimized to a certain extent, saying Hardman “coaxed and sought to manipulate Lampley to help him in his second plot.” But at some point, she became a willing participant. Even before meeting with the undercover agent, Lampley helped Hardman harass his ex-wife, whom he believed at the time was recovering from injuries from the first planned attack. Lampley typed and mailed a threatening letter that made statements like, “JUST WHEN YOU THOUGHT IT WAS SAFE TO GO BACK INTO THE WATER,” and, “If you are ever capable again, I would recommend that you never step on a dance floor AGAIN in this area or it could be your LAST DANCE.” Along with the letter, Lampley sent a CD on which she had recorded Foreigner’s “Cold as Ice” over and over again.
Cherilynn Collins did not attend Lampley’s sentencing and was reluctant to be interviewed for this story because, after twice being the target of a murder plot, she has gone to great lengths not to be found. During a brief telephone conversation, Collins declines to rehash everything she has endured, but is quick to call Hardman “a crazy man.” When she left him and filed for divorce, Collins says she assumed he would move on and that everything would be fine. That’s why she was so shocked to learn from the FBI the lengths he was going to in an effort to harm her: “To this day, I still don’t know why he wanted it all done,” she tells the Scene.
During her ex-husband’s second trial, Collins testified that she experienced recurring nightmares since the first attempt to harm her was uncovered, and she has created a new identity in an attempt to assuage those fears. She’s changed her name, moved to a different city and sought a new Social Security number. Consumed with anxiety about her safety, Collins has been unable to maintain a job.
For Sunny Koshy, however, the threat was alarming, but not all that surprising. “I’ve gotten more than my fair share of this type of threat,” says Koshy, who as a federal prosecutor has dealt with drug conspiracies, organized crime and other violent criminals for the past 10 years. “If I run scared, that just endangers other prosecutors and witnesses.” Although he admits, “I am pretty much always looking over my shoulder.”
Going Postal A letter from Drew Hardman to his ex-wife.
During the sentence hearing, Koshy sits alone on one side of the courtroom as Lampley’s friends and family are side by side on the other side of the aisle awaiting the outcome.
In her final chance to speak to the court, Lampley issues a series of tearful apologies. “I take full responsibility for what I’ve done, and I’m just sorry this ever happened. But I am thankful that nothing ever really came down and no one was hurt,” she says. Turning to face the gallery, she thanks her friends for supporting her and then says, “Mr. Koshy, I’m really sorry.”
Nearly three hours into the hearing, Lampley’s lawyer, David Heroux, makes one final overture asking for leniency. He recommends a five-year sentence, including time served, and reminds Judge Robert Echols that his client already has been locked up for three years, since the day she was arrested. As he speaks, Lampley sobs uncontrollably. Heroux puts a hand on her shoulder and goes on to describe a woman who was dedicated to her family, her business and her friends for 53 years, adding that Hardman’s influence marked a change. “Parley Drew Hardman took advantage and drew her into his game with the promise of happily ever after,” he says. In hindsight, Lampley is ashamed, repentant and embarrassed. Overall, he says, “She’s lived a life that anyone could be proud of—a life of helping others.”
But federal prosecutor Michael Taxay says that doesn’t erase her involvement in a plot to kill an assistant U.S. attorney and three federal witnesses. He acknowledges, however, that Lampley cooperated significantly with the government after her arrest.
Then the courtroom is silent as the judge shuffles through papers behind the bench. Lampley, still crying, nervously rocks back and forth in her chair. Finally, Judge Echols asks her to stand. He sentences the defendant to six-and-a-half years, not as lenient as the defense requested, but still much less time than she could have received.
“This action by Ms. Lampley in this case was an anomaly. It’s contrary to what she has represented in many parts of her life,” Judge Echols says as he issues his ruling. Although she was an unwilling participant, persuaded by a “master manipulator,” she went along with this criminal act nonetheless. But, the judge adds, “The court does not believe Ms. Lampley is a bad person. She made a bad decision.”