Chapter 4
Feeling as if the world had quite simply come to an end, Graham O’Connor leaned against a white split-rail fence to look out over the acres that made up his estate but saw nothing through a haze of tears and grief. John is dead. John is dead. John is dead.
From the moment Carrie called them to say Nick was waiting at the house, Graham had known. With the most important vote of John’s career scheduled for that day, there was only one reason Nick would have come. Graham had known, just as he had always known there was something shameful about a father loving one of his children more than the others. But John had been extraordinary. From the very earliest hours of his youngest child’s life, Graham had seen in him the special something that inspired so many others to love him, too.
His face wet with tears, Graham wondered how this could have happened.
“Dad?”
The sound of his older son’s voice filled Graham with disappointment and despair. God help him for thinking such a thing, but if he’d had to lose one of his sons why couldn’t it have been Terry instead of John?
Terry’s hand landed on Graham’s shoulder, squeezed. “What can I do for you?”
“Nothing.” Graham wiped his face.
“Senator?”
Graham turned to find Nick and the pretty detective approaching them.
“We’re going back to Washington,” she said, “but before we do I need to confirm your whereabouts last night. After ten.”
He somehow managed to contain the hot blast of rage that cut through him at the implication that he could have had something to do with the death of the one he loved above all others—except for Laine, of course. “I was right here with my wife. We had friends over, played some bridge and went to bed around eleven or so.”
She seemed satisfied with his answer and turned next to Terry. “Mr. O’Connor?”
“I was…ah…with a friend.”
Terry’s womanizing had gotten completely out of hand since a DUI derailed his political aspirations weeks before he was supposed to declare his candidacy for the Senate. It made Graham sick that Terry was no closer to settling down and having a family at forty-two than he had been at twenty-two.
“I’ll need a name and number,” the detective said.
Terry’s cheeks turned bright red, and Graham knew what was coming next. “I…ah…”
“He doesn’t know her name,” Graham said, casting a disgusted look at his son.
“I can find out,” Terry said quickly.
“That’d be a good idea,” the detective said.
“It’s not a coincidence, is it, that this happened on the eve of the vote?” Graham said.
“We’re not ruling anything out,” the detective said.
“Check Minority Leader Stenhouse,” Graham said. “He hates my guts and would begrudge my son any kind of success.”
“Why does he hate you?” she asked.
“They were bitter rivals for decades,” Nick told her. “Stenhouse has done everything he could to block the immigration bill, but it was going to pass anyway.”
“Take a good look at him,” Graham said, his chest tight with rage and his voice breaking. “He’s capable of anything. Taking my son from me would give him great joy.”
“Can you think of anyone else?” she asked. “Anyone who might’ve tangled with your son, either on a personal or professional level?”
Graham shook his head. “Everyone loved John, but I’ll think about it and let you know if anyone comes to mind.”
Nick stepped forward to embrace him.
Graham wrapped his arms around the young man he loved like a son. “Find out who did this, Nick. Find out.”
“I will. I promise.”
As Nick and Sam walked away, Graham noted the hunched shoulders of his son’s closest friend and trusted aide. To Terry he said, “Get the name of your bimbo, and get it now. Don’t show your face around here again until you do.”
“Yes, sir.”
On the way back to Washington, Nick checked his BlackBerry and read through the statement his office had drafted.
With tremendous sorrow we announce that our colleague and friend, Senator John Thomas O’Connor, Democrat of Virginia, was found murdered in his Washington home this morning. After Senator O’Connor failed to arrive for work, his chief of staff, Nicholas Cappuano, went to the senator’s home to check on him. Mr. Cappuano found the senator dead. At the request of the Metropolitan Police, we’ll have no further statement on the details of the senator’s death other than to say we will do everything within our power to assist in the investigation. Subsequent information on the investigation will come from the police.
We will make it our mission to ensure passage of the landmark immigration legislation Senator O’Connor worked so hard to bring to the Senate floor and to continue his work on behalf of children, families and the aged.
Our hearts and prayers are with the senator’s parents, Senator and Mrs. Graham O’Connor, his brother Terry, sister Lizbeth, brother-in-law Royce, niece Emma and nephew Adam. Funeral arrangements are incomplete but will be announced in the next few days. We ask that you respect the privacy of the O’Connor family at this difficult time.
Nick nodded with approval and read it again before he turned to Sam. “Can I run this by you?”
“Sure.” She listened intently as he read the statement to her. “Sounds like they covered every base.”
“The part about the investigation was okay?”
“Yes, it’s fine.”
Nick placed a call to Christina. “Hey, green light on the statement. Go ahead and get it out.”
Christina replied with a deep, pained sigh. “This’ll make it official.”
“Tell Trevor to just read it and get out of there. No questions.”
“Got it.”
“You guys did a great job. Thank you.”
“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” she said, her voice hoarse.
“I’m sure.”
“So, um, how’d it go with his parents?”
“Horrible.”
“Same thing with the staff. People are taking it really hard.”
“I’m on my way back. I’ll be in soon.”
“We’ll be here.”
Nick ended the call.
“Are you all right?” Sam asked.
“I’m fine,” he said stiffly, still pissed that she had talked alibis with the O’Connors so soon.
“I was just doing my job.”
“Your job sucks.”
“Yes, a lot of times it does.”
“Do you ever get used to telling people their loved ones have been murdered?”
“No, and I hope I never do.”
As bone-deep exhaustion began to set in, he put his head back against the seat. “I appreciated you saying the words for me back there. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
She glanced over at him. “You were very good with them.”
Surprised by the unexpected compliment, Nick forced a weak smile. “I was in uncharted waters, that’s for sure.”
“You’re close to them.”
“They’re family to me.”
“What does your own family think of that?”
They hadn’t taken the time to compare life stories the first time they met. They’d been too busy tearing each other’s clothes off. “I don’t have much of a family. I was born to parents who were still in high school and was raised by my grandmother. She passed away a few years ago.”
“What about your parents?”
“They breezed in and out of my life when I was a kid.”
“And now?”
“Let’s see, my mother is married for the third time and was living in Cleveland the last time I heard from her, which was a couple of years ago. My father is married to a woman who’s younger than me, and they have three-year-old twins. He lives in Baltimore. I see them once in a while, but he’s hardly a father to me. He’s only fifteen years older than me.”
Her silence made him realize she was waiting for him to say more.
“I remember the first weekend I spent with the O’Connors. I thought families like theirs only existed on TV.”
“They always seemed almost too good to be true.”
“They’re not, though. They’re real people with real faults and problems, but they have such a strong belief in giving back and in public service that it’s impossible to be around them for any length of time and not be sucked in. They changed my whole career plan.”
“What were you going to do?”
“I’d considered accounting or finance, but after a few meals at Graham O’Connor’s table, I was bitten by the political bug.”
“What’s he like? Graham?”
“He’s complicated and thoughtful and demanding. He loves his family and his country. He’s fiercely patriotic and loyal.”
“You love him.”
“More than any man I’ve ever known—except his son.”
“Tell me about John.”
Nick thought for a moment before he answered. “If his father is complicated, thoughtful and demanding, John was simple, forgetful and lackadaisical. But like his father, he loved his family and his country and was proud to serve the people of Virginia. He took those responsibilities seriously but didn’t take himself too seriously.”
“Did you like working for him?”
“I liked being around him and helping him to succeed. But from a political staff perspective, he could be a bit of a handful.”
“How so?”
Nick paused, considered and decided. “Right now, my chief goal is to protect his legacy and ensure he’s afforded the dignity and stature he deserves as a deceased United States senator.”
“And my goal is to figure out who killed him. If I’m going to do that, I’ll need you and the rest of your staff to be forthcoming. I can do it faster and more efficiently with your help than without it. I need to know who he was.”
Nick wished he couldn’t smell her, wished he wasn’t so aware of her. And more than anything, he wished he didn’t so vividly remember the night he’d spent lost in her. “I was furious,” he said in a soft tone.
“When?” she asked, confused.
“On my way to his place this morning. If he hadn’t been dead when I got there, I might’ve killed him myself.”
“Nick…” Her tone was full of warning, reminding him not to forget who he was talking to.
“If you want to know who John O’Connor was, the fact that his chief of staff was on his way to haul him out of bed—again—should tell you everything you need to know.”
“It doesn’t tell me everything, but it’s a start.”