Read When No One Is Watching Online
Authors: Joseph Hayes
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Thrillers
“Yeah, I took him there. Had to wait almost two hours before they examined him. He was fine. He wouldn’t take the blood test, though.”
“Shit,” Slazak muttered. Another Cub base runner had scored as Wilson delivered this news. “So he wasn’t hurt at all?”
“Nope.”
“Not even any minor scrapes or cuts?”
“I wasn’t in the room when the doctor examined him, but I didn’t see any. The doc said he was fine and sent us on our way. We got to the station around four o’clock, and they put him in lockup. I heard he was bailed out by one of his law partners this morning.”
“Did you get any information out of him?”
“He said he was at some French restaurant downtown last night. The big shots at Champions HealthCare threw some sort of party in his honor. Other than that, he didn’t say much.”
“Okay, thanks, Wilson. Hey, one more thing. Find out where his partner lives.” He hung up.
Slazak turned his attention to the ball game once again. The golf ball flew from hand to hand with increasing speed as two more innings went by. As the fifth inning ended, Slazak grabbed the remote control and turned off the game in disgust. The Cubs were pounding his beloved White Sox 10–1; he couldn’t bear to watch. He stood up, tossed the golf ball straight up in the air, caught it with his right hand, and shoved it into his pocket.
Slazak retrieved a small spiral notebook from his bedside table and studied it for a few minutes. He had jotted down the addresses of both Danny Moran and Terry McGrath from their driver’s licenses. They both lived in Beverly, just a few blocks apart from each other, about four miles northeast of Mount Greenwood. It was Sunday, his day off, but he needed to get away from baseball for awhile. There was work to be done.
Danny awoke with a start at the sound of the cheerful teenage voice. He blinked hard and looked at his watch. It was three thirty in the afternoon, and he was lying in bed in gym shorts and a T-shirt. He rolled out of bed and moved slowly out of the second-story bedroom toward the stairs, trying to ignore the pounding in his head.
His wife, Karen, and their seventeen-year-old daughter, Allie, had been visiting Karen’s parents in San Francisco for the past ten days. They knew that Danny worked nearly around the clock when he was in trial and needed to be free from distractions, so they used those opportunities to travel whenever they could. Despite being consumed by the trial, Danny had found himself greatly missing them by the time it was over and had been eagerly awaiting their return—until now. A wave of dread passed over him as he made his way down the stairs.
Allie met him at the bottom of the stairs. “Hi, Pops! Congratulations on your trial! I missed you!”
She flung her arms around him enthusiastically, oblivious to his haggard appearance. He was bleary-eyed and unshaven, and obviously had been sleeping in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. She was equally oblivious to the look of shame and embarrassment clouding his face.
Danny could see that none of that was lost on Karen. She dropped her suitcases and stared silently at her husband for several long moments.
“Danny? Are you okay?” she asked apprehensively, glued to her spot just inside the door.
“I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news,” Danny began, hesitation in his voice.
“What? What happened?” Allie asked, immediately becoming alarmed.
“I was in an accident last night.”
Allie gasped. “Are you okay?”
Danny nodded, and they walked slowly into the living room, where he sat down on the sofa. Allie sat next to her father, eyeing him with concern. Karen stared at them from across the room, one hand over her mouth.
“What happened?” Allie asked again, her eyes widening.
“I’m not exactly sure,” Danny said slowly. “I went to the victory celebration downtown last night. I was driving home sometime after midnight, and I think … I think I almost collided with another car. He drove off the road into a tree. I hear he’s hurt pretty badly.”
“What do you mean ‘you think’ you almost collided?” Karen asked, her voice shaking. “You don’t know for sure?”
Danny shook his head, staring at the floor.
“You were drinking again, Danny, weren’t you?” Karen asked, her tone harsh and accusatory.
“I’m afraid so,” he replied softly. “I honestly don’t remember what happened. I woke up at the accident scene, and I just have no recollection of what happened.”
“What’s going to happen, Daddy?” Allie asked. “Are you going to be arrested? Will we get sued?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” he replied, unable to look his daughter in the eye.
Allie leaned toward her father and gently grasped his forearm. “Don’t worry, Daddy, we’ll get through this,” she said, obviously trying hard to sound confident and reassuring, but not quite succeeding. “Everything will be okay, I just know it.”
“Allie, would you give your father and me a few minutes alone?” Karen asked, her voice trembling.
“Sure, Mom,” Allie said quietly, keeping her eyes fixed on her father. She embraced him tightly and left the room.
Karen waited until she heard the sound of Allie’s bedroom door closing. “I can’t do this, Danny,” she said, her voice breaking as she began pacing across the room. “I just can’t take it anymore. You were sober for three solid months, and I was finally starting to feel hopeful … and then I come home to this!”
“Karen, I’m so sorry,” Danny said, standing and walking toward his wife. She put her hands up, gesturing for him to stop, and turned away from him.
She was sobbing now, and Danny reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. She recoiled. “You
should
be sorry, Danny! But that’s not enough. We’ve talked about this before—the late nights, the nights you don’t come home at all, drinking until you can’t even talk, drinking until you pass out and can’t even remember where you were or what you were doing. I can’t live like this anymore, I just can’t! And now someone’s gotten hurt because of it, and there’ll be legal implications, not to mention the shame and humiliation!”
“You have every right to feel that way, Karen, and I’m truly sorry for what I’ve put you through. I don’t know what I can possibly do to make it right, but I’ll find a way.” Karen turned and looked directly at him. “There’s nothing you
can
do, Danny,” she said with quiet resignation, her voice steady now. “It’s too late.”
His father had spent forty years as a Chicago cop, and had made it abundantly clear that he was disappointed in his son’s career choice. He had insisted that his son was far too smart to settle for the meager pay and lifestyle offered by the Chicago PD, but Slazak hated school and hated the thought of spending his working days cooped up in an office. So he joined the police force, believing that working as a homicide detective would provide plenty of opportunity for him to use his wits. He had proven that to himself throughout his career; however, his hypercritical father would never believe that. As with most of the people in his past, Slazak’s relationship with his father had become permanently strained, and they seldom spoke anymore. When they did, the conversation was typically limited to brief exchanges about sports.
Slazak’s ruminations were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. It was Officer Wilson, calling to pass along Blair Van Howe’s address. As luck would have it, Van Howe lived less than two blocks from Danny Moran, so he might be able to catch both of them on this trip. But first, he would drop in on the one person who might be in a position to actually remember something about the previous night’s accident: Ashley McGrath.
A frizzy-haired teenager with thick glasses and braces opened the door hesitantly in response to his loud knock. She looked nervously at the lean and wiry stranger with the intense dark eyes and greasy brown hair.
“Is Mrs. McGrath home?” Slazak inquired.
“No, she’s at the hospital,” the girl replied in a timid voice. “Who are you?” asked Slazak.
“I’m Tammy, the babysitter.”
Slazak pulled his badge and identification card from his pocket and showed it to the girl. “I’m a police officer, Tammy, and the person I really need to talk to is Ashley. Is she here?”
Tammy studied Slazak’s ID carefully. “Yeah, she’s in the backyard,” she said, after satisfying herself that his face matched the photograph on the ID. “You can come through this way.”
She guided Slazak through the house to a sliding glass door that led to a cedar deck and a large backyard that clearly belonged to a family with young children. The yard was dominated by a monstrous, brightly colored fort, complete with swings and slide, and bicycles, balls and toys of all types were scattered everywhere. Ashley McGrath was seated at a miniature picnic table, holding a small, sleeping puppy in her lap. Her face was expressionless as she gently stroked the puppy, staring absently into the distance.
“Ashley? Remember me?” Slazak asked in as gentle a voice as he could muster.
She turned and looked at him calmly for a second or two, then looked away. She nodded.
“I’d like to ask you a few questions about last night, okay?”
Ashley continued staring straight ahead and said nothing.
“It’s okay, Ashley. He’s a policeman,” said Tammy, trying to be encouraging. “He’s here to help. You can talk to him.”
Ashley bowed her head and looked at the sleeping puppy.
Slazak pulled a lawn chair alongside the little girl and leaned toward her. “Ashley, do you remember what happened last night? Do you think you can tell me about it?”
The girl nodded slowly.
“Did you see what made your daddy crash?”
She nodded again.
“Tell him, Ashley,” Tammy urged.
“We were going to get Bully. Another car came right at us, really fast,” the young girl replied in a soft monotone voice.
“Then what happened?”
“Daddy tried to get out of the way, but we crashed into the tree. My tummy hurt from the seat belt. My glasses fell off.”
“What happened next?”
“Daddy was hurt. His head was all bloody, and he didn’t answer when I talked to him,” she said in a faraway voice. “Then the man came and looked in the window.”
“The policeman?” Slazak asked.
“No,” Ashley replied. “Another man came before the policeman. He looked at Daddy, and he talked to me.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t one of the policemen, Ashley?”
Ashley nodded, still staring straight ahead as if in a trance, while stroking the little bulldog.
“Do you remember what he said?” Slazak asked.
“He said he would get help for Daddy.”
“Do you remember what he looked like?”
Ashley looked down at the puppy and did not respond.
Slazak leaned in closer to the little girl. “Ashley, this is really important, okay? Do you remember what the man looked like?”
Her lower lip began to quiver as tears welled up in her eyes. Slazak didn’t know whether she felt bad because she was unable to answer his question or whether his questioning had caused the child to relive the terrible event. He touched her gently on the knee. “That’s all right, Ashley. You’ve been very helpful. Just one more question, okay?”
She nodded.
“Is there anything else you think I should know about last night?”
She turned and looked at him through tear-filled eyes, then looked down again. “It’s my fault,” she said in a voice that was barely audible.
“What?” Slazak asked, startled by the comment.
“It’s my fault,” she said again, her voice quavering. “I couldn’t find Mr. Growl, and I made us late. If I hadn’t made us late, we wouldn’t have been there when the other car was.” She began sniffling. A tear fell on the little puppy’s back, and she quickly wiped it off.
Tammy stepped between them, knelt in front of the child, and wrapped her in a tight embrace. “Oh, Ashley,” she said through her own tears. “Don’t ever think that way! It wasn’t your fault at all. It was just an accident.”
She looked reproachfully at Slazak, who took that as a sign that it was time to leave.
“That’s right, kid,” Slazak said softly, struggling to keep his own emotions in check. “It’s not your fault.” He stood up, unsure what to say or do next. “I’ll be leaving now,” he said, directing his comment to the babysitter. “I can find my way out,” he said awkwardly when the babysitter failed to respond. “Bye, Ashley.”
He sat there now, trying to collect his scattered thoughts and decide exactly what he needed to do to address his current predicament. At the moment, the silence pervading his house was decidedly not comfortable; it was tense—painful, even. His wife and daughter had been home for over an hour now, but Karen hadn’t spoken with him since he told her about the previous evening’s events and she had glared at him with those angry, incriminating pale blue eyes. He could hear her shuffling around the house, sniffling quietly, while slamming drawers and doors not-so-quietly as she tended to her unpacking. That was her way when they had a disagreement, and he hated it. He would have much preferred that she explode and say whatever was on her mind, but she would never do that; she forced him to endure the silent treatment.
“Danny?” He was surprised to hear her calling his name. She stood in the study doorway, looking aloof. “There’s someone here to see you,” she said coolly. He followed her to the living room, where his heart sank at the sight of his visitor.