When No One Is Watching (31 page)

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Authors: Joseph Hayes

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Thrillers

BOOK: When No One Is Watching
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“What are you doing here?” Allie asked, a look of bewilderment on her face.

“I heard about your dad, and I was hoping I could see him. Sorry to sneak up on you like this, but the Secret Service is all around my place, and I didn’t want to attract a crowd. They don’t know I’m gone. It’s just me and Tony here.”

Allie stood up and said in a cool voice, “Kristen, this is Blair Van Howe. He
used to be
a good friend of the family.” She purposely avoided calling him “Governor Van Howe,” fully intending that to be a sign of disrespect.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Governor,” Kristen stammered, still looking stunned.

Allie turned toward her friend. “Would you mind giving us a few minutes alone, Kristen?”

“Not at all,” Kristen replied, quickly retreating into the house.

The back door slammed, and Allie folded her arms, staring defiantly at the governor of the State of Illinois, a man who would certainly be elected the next president of the United States in just a few days. “You’ve got a lot of nerve!” Allie began, her voice trembling. “After all these years … you were like family … I used to call you Uncle Blair …” Her voice broke, and tears of anger ran down her cheeks. “Why did you abandon us?”

“Allie, I’m so sorry. You’ve got every right to despise me. I wish I had a good explanation—”

“He was your best friend, Blair!” Allie yelled. “I want to hear your explanation—whatever it is! You owe us that much at least!”

“I was a coward, Allie, and I can’t tell you how ashamed I am. And you’re right, you deserve an explanation. It’s not a good one, but here it is. After the accident, my advisers told me it would hurt my political career if I associated with your dad. They told me I could do a lot of good for a lot of people if I could get elected, so—”

“So you sacrificed my father—after everything he did for you!”

Blair hung his head and took a deep breath, then looked up at Allie with pain in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Allie. I know I’ve done you and your father a terrible wrong. I wish there was some way I could make it up to you.”

“It’s a little late for that,” Allie said bitterly through her tears. “He’s dying, Blair,” Allie shouted, her voice thick with hostility.

The anguish was evident on the governor’s face. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Allie, and I certainly don’t deserve your father’s. But it sure would mean a lot to me if I could see him.”

Something about the sincerity in his voice and the look of genuine remorse in the governor’s face touched her. She stared at him for a long moment, her countenance softening as anger transformed into sadness. “I’ve missed you, Blair,” she said, looking up at the man she once loved almost as much as her own father.

“I’ve missed you too, little girl,” Blair replied, wrapping his arms around her. “And I’ve missed your father—more than I can say.”

***

Allie stepped inside her father’s bedroom. “Daddy, you have another visitor. Blair’s here.” T. J. McGrath dropped the devotional he was reading and stared in astonishment at the visitor standing alone in the doorway.

“Hello, Dano,” Blair said in a voice thick with emotion.

Danny smiled a peaceful smile. “Blair! What a surprise!”

“I’ll let you two visit,” T. J. stammered as he stood up hastily and began walking out of the room, avoiding eye contact with the governor.

“Stick around awhile, T. J.,” said Danny. “I’d like to read some more in a little while, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing, Danny,” T. J. replied, looking embarrassed.

Allie shut the door behind her and left the former law school classmates to themselves.

“You look like shit, pal,” Blair said with a strained smile as he looked at the ravaged body lying helplessly before him.

Danny stared at his former partner for a long moment. “It’s really good to see you, Blair,” he said sincerely. “I’m so proud of you. I hope I can hang on long enough to see you win the election. And I really wish I could be around to witness all the great things you’re going to accomplish. You’ve become a hero to a lot of people, and I know you won’t let them down.”

“I’m no hero, Dano,” Blair said sadly. “After the way I treated you, I’ll never feel like a hero.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself, Blair. I know how politics works. I know how the media works. You did what you had to do, and it turned out great. Look at you! The next president of the United States!”

***

Allie, T. J., Kristen, and Tony the Secret Service agent sat in the kitchen, lost in their thoughts. The room was silent, except for the sound of teacups occasionally striking saucers and the muffled voices of Blair and Danny coming through in quiet tones over the baby monitor. They stared at their tea, trying to act as if they weren’t listening, but no one made any effort to strike up a conversation or to turn off the monitor.

***

“Yes, but at what cost, Dano?” Blair continued, an anguished look coming over his face. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You were just flat-out the most honest, selfless, kindhearted person I’ve ever met—the most loyal friend I’ve ever had, and I betrayed you.”

“I don’t look at it that way, Blair. Politics is a tough business, and you had to distance yourself from me—
because of what I did
. You’re not responsible for that. You didn’t betray me.”

Blair stared down at the floor. “But I did betray you, Dano,” he said in a voice full of self-reproach. “I built my entire political career on my reputation for honesty and integrity. Ethics reform was a major part of my agenda in every office I’ve held, but it’s all built upon a lie.”

***

In the kitchen, T. J., Allie, and Kristen looked up from their tea and gave each other a curious glance. Tony looked down the hall at the closed bedroom door. Kristen subtly flipped on her handheld recorder.

***

“Built upon a lie? What are you talking about, Blair?” Danny asked.

“Dano … the accident … I let you take the fall for it.” Blair looked up at the ceiling, sighed deeply, then looked directly at his old friend. “You weren’t driving that night, Dano—I was.”

Danny stared at him uncomprehendingly.


I
drove home that night, Dano.
I
drove Terry McGrath off the road.
I
killed him. You didn’t! You were passed out in the passenger seat. I panicked. I figured my political career would be dead if anyone found out, so I strapped you into the driver’s seat, called 911, and then I ran home. When I got there, I had a change of heart. I was going to go back to the scene and make it right, but I let Sam and Kimberly talk me out of it.”

***

Kristen, Allie, and T. J. huddled around the monitor, stunned looks on their faces. Kristen turned up the volume and placed her recorder adjacent to the monitor. The young Secret Service agent stared over their shoulders at the monitor, looking equally stunned.

***

“I wasn’t driving that night?” Danny asked incredulously.

“No, Dano, it was me. And I let you take the fall. Jail, disbarment, the lawsuit, all the public shame and humiliation. You didn’t deserve any of that! It should have been me!”

“So I had nothing to do with Terry McGrath’s death?” Danny asked quietly.

Blair shook his head. “No, Dano,” he said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

“That’s such a relief, Blair. I’ve carried that guilt around for so long. To be free of that burden … I can’t tell you how much that means to me. Thanks for letting me know.”

“You’re thanking me?” Blair asked, a look of disbelief on his face. “I’ve ruined your entire life, and you’re thanking me?”

“You didn’t ruin my life, Blair. In fact, my life turned out to be very good. I think that, in the end, we mostly live the kind of life we deserve. My life took an unexpected turn after the accident, but I truly believe I’ve lived a richer and more meaningful life as a result. I was able to make a real difference to at least a few people. I made good friends. I have a great relationship with my wonderful daughter. My life has been good, Blair. I hope that, when you’re in my position, looking back over your life, you’ll feel the same way.”

They stared at each other in silence for a long moment. “What do I do now, Dano?” Blair asked, his voice shaky and tinged with despair. “I should have come clean with this a long time ago, with you and with everyone else.” He shook his head sadly, then put a hand over his eyes and began weeping quietly. “I made a terrible mistake,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ve tried to justify it by telling myself I could serve the greater good … that I could help a lot of people in public office … our state and our country … and I honestly think I have … and that I can continue to do that. That’s how I’ve rationalized it. But now … sitting here talking to you … I feel like a coward and a fraud. I don’t know if I can live with myself if I don’t make this right. I should come clean with this, shouldn’t I? That’s what you would do.”

Danny looked steadily at his old friend, compassion shining through his sunken eyes. “That’s something you need to figure out on your own, Blair,” he said gently.

They sat in silence for a long time, lost in their thoughts, until Danny’s eyelids began drooping. “Thanks for coming, Blair,” Danny said in a tired voice. “It means a lot to me. And thanks for telling me what you did. I can leave this world with a much greater sense of peace now.” Danny heaved a deep sigh. “I’m really tired, Blair. I’m going to close my eyes and rest.”

CHAPTER 50
S
am McIntire, Kimberly Van Howe, and a handful of tired but elated campaign staffers sat in the Washington hotel suite that had been used as media central by the campaign team over the past few weeks. It was the Saturday before the election, and they were relaxing, talking football more than politics as they watched the University of Illinois Fighting Illini battle the top-ranked Ohio State Buckeyes on national television.

 

Late in the fourth quarter, the Illini were down by six points and staging a valiant comeback drive against the heavily favored Buckeyes. With thirty seconds to play and the ball on Ohio State’s ten yard line, the Illini quarterback dropped back to pass. The crowd in the room let out a collective shout as the screen went momentarily blank. Within seconds, the face of the local anchorman appeared on screen
.

“We are interrupting our regularly scheduled programming to bring you breaking news regarding the upcoming presidential election, and more specifically, front-running Democratic candidate, Blair Van Howe. The
Chicago Tribune
is in possession of an audiotape of Governor Van Howe admitting that he was the driver in a fatal car accident ten years ago that was blamed on his former law partner, Daniel Moran. In a dramatic confession made by Van Howe to Moran on his deathbed, Van Howe acknowledged that he was actually driving that night, and that he framed his friend and left the scene of the accident. According to the recording, Van Howe’s wife and father-in-law, longtime Chicago powerbroker Sam McIntire, assisted in the cover-up.”

Sam stared in stunned silence at the television as every head in the room turned in his direction. His eyes bulged. He gasped for air, then clutched at his chest. Kimberly shrieked as he fell like a giant oak, crashing into the glass coffee table, sending snacks, drinks, and glass flying in all directions.

***

Sam McIntire did not live to see the media firestorm that followed, nor did he live to see his son-in-law withdraw in disgrace two days before the presidential election. He did not see the shock and consternation that swept the nation or the resulting political upheaval. He did not live to see the chaotic congressional hearings convened to consider postponement of the election, nor the Democratic party’s decision to elevate Paul Richardson, the stunned vice presidential candidate, to the top of the ticket once it became clear that the election would not be postponed. Sam McIntire did not live to see the Republican candidate, Henry Hamilton, swept into office in a landslide victory of historic proportions. Neither did Danny Moran.

CHAPTER 51
T
he wake was scheduled to start at 5:00 p.m. Allie and Jason arrived at the funeral home an hour early for a “private viewing,” as the funeral director called it—an opportunity for them to spend time alone with Allie’s father one last time before visitors began arriving. It was also an opportunity to make sure that Allie was pleased with the arrangement of the visitation room and her father’s appearance. In keeping with the customary practice within the Chicago Catholic community, it would be an open-casket visitation, with her father’s remains on display for those who came to pay their final respects.

 

Allie and Jason were guided to the visitation room by Chuck, the young funeral director who had assisted them with the arrangements with the utmost kindness and compassion. Jason tenderly put his arm around his wife as Chuck escorted them to the casket. To Allie’s surprise, she remained completely calm. She thought her father looked good; at least as good as a departed soul can look with the help of the modern-day restorative techniques and the cosmetics skills of the funeral home staff. A large photograph of Danny as a young man—smiling, handsome, and vibrant—was displayed on an easel several feet away, so that people would remember Danny in life as well as in death as they approached the casket.

Chuck politely excused himself and quietly closed the door, leaving Jason and Allie alone with her father in the empty room. Allie put her hands on her father’s. They were cool and stiff, but that didn’t bother her. She smiled at him as a collage of happy memories flooded back. She bent over and kissed him on the forehead. “I love you, Pops,” she whispered, still smiling. Her eyes were misty, but she did not weep. She’d had plenty of time to grieve during her father’s illness and upon his passing three days earlier. Now, she felt ready to honor and celebrate his life with those whose lives he had touched.

She turned away from the casket and surveyed the visitation room. It was large, probably too large, she thought, upon seeing it empty. The casket was at the front of the room, a good hundred feet from the entrance. Despite the size, however, the room felt comfortable and warm. Pictures of her father at various stages of his life were tastefully scattered around the room, along with a multitude of flower arrangements that had been arriving all day. Rows of neatly arranged folding chairs stretched from the front to the back, with ample space around the perimeter to allow guests to congregate and visit comfortably.

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