When No One Is Watching Read Online Free PDF

him toward their bed, and he sat down. “Now tell me exactly what happened,” she instructed him. Her voice was firm and steady, but alarm and dread were evident in her eyes.
    Blair stared at the floor, gripping his towel-wrapped finger tightly. “I was driving Danny’s Porsche. When we left the restaurant, Danny was loaded, so I drove. When we got near Danny’s house, I took a turn too fast. It was late, the streets were empty, and I didn’t expect to see any other cars. But when I made the turn onto Hamilton, there was another car coming right at me. He swerved and missed me, but he smashed head-on into a tree. I got out of the car and went to check on him, and he was hurt—bad, I think.”
    “Then what happened?” Kimberly asked.
    Blair stood up and began pacing, unable to look at his wife. “I couldn’t get him out. He was wedged in. And then …” He looked up at his wife for just an instant, then looked down again. “I just panicked. I thought about the campaign, what this means to you, what it means to your father, and I just panicked.”
    “Blair, what did you do?” Kimberly demanded, her tone becoming sharp.
    Blair stopped his pacing and hung his head. “I moved Danny into the driver’s seat. He was passed out. Then I called 911 on his cell phone. And then I left.”
    Kimberly stared at her husband in stunned silence for a long moment. Then she exploded. “Jesus Christ, Blair, what were you thinking? This could ruin everything! This election is our big chance. We’ve both wanted this for so long. Now it could all blow up in a big, messy scandal! Shit! I can’t believe this!”
    Blair avoided his wife’s glare. He walked back into the bathroom and found some gauze in the medicine cabinet and wrapped it tightly around his finger with white medical tape. He looked at himself in the mirror, then stared down at the sink. “I need to go back there. I need to straighten this out,” he said quietly, more to himself than to his wife.
    “Like hell you do!” Kimberly shouted. “What’s done is done! That would only make it worse. We better call my father.”
    Blair continued staring at the sink for a long moment. “I guess we should,” he said reluctantly. He hated the idea of having to break this news to Kimberly’s father, Sam McIntire, but he could think of no one better equipped to deal with a situation like this.
    Sam McIntire was a legend on the Chicago political scene. He had held a variety of public offices over the past thirty years, including State’s Attorney, Comptroller for the State of Illinois, Cook County Assessor, and Chairman of the Democratic Party at both the city and state levels. The title on his business card at any particular point in time was almost irrelevant, however. Simply put, he was the consummate powerbroker, one of the most influential Chicago politicians of his generation. He had all the right connections and knew how to work the system. He had launched and guided the careers of mayors, senators and governors. Those who were unwise enough to cross him invariably watched their careers and political fortunes abruptly falter or slowly slide into oblivion.
    As a young politician, McIntire had set his sights on the big prize: the governor’s mansion. Unfortunately, the talents that served him so well—backroom deals, arm-twisting, coercion, and his reputation as a “fixer”—were considered baggage by the party leaders, too much dirty laundry for a candidate seeking such a high-profile public office. So he had to satisfy himself with his role as a master behind-the-scenes powerbroker, someone who could make things happen and fix what needed fixing when the guys in higher offices were afraid to get their hands dirty.
    Within twenty minutes of his daughter’s phone call, McIntire burst through the back door of the Van Howe house without knocking, ready to take charge. At sixty years old, he was still an imposing figure, standing nearly six feet six inches tall and