Political Science 101

Chapter Sixty-Four

RAY DOYLE was still awake at 2AM on a Friday night, but not because he'd been out partying until Last Call (though part of him certainly did long for those days — or, more accurately, those nights — spent at the bars with Mitch and his college buddies). But he hadn't talked to any of those guys in years, except Mitch, and he hadn't talked to Mitch in weeks (or months?).

Ray was still awake because he didn't sleep much anymore. He wasn't sure why; he just didn't. He spent his early mornings watching SportsCenter and the local news; he spent his late nights watching cheesy edited-for-TV movies and bizarre infomercials. Considering the business of his days, Ray's early mornings and late nights were the only times he had to himself.

His modest Washington DC apartment was dark, only illuminated by the light of his television. Ray was sitting on the couch, full-clothed, eating cold microwave popcorn when he was somewhat startled by his ringing cell phone. And when he saw who it was on his Caller ID at 2AM, he felt his nerves flutter.

Ray answered. "Will?"

"Dad!" Will said frantically. Ray had never heard his son's voice so erratic. Actually, he rarely heard his son's voice at all anymore, ever since his divorce. He'd gotten the distinct impression that Will blamed him for his parents' divorce, which Ray knew was probably justified. So as of late, they rarely spoke, which made this call all-the-more alarming.

"Are you okay?" Ray asked with trepidation in his voice.

"There's been an accident," Will said, his voice crackling over the phone because of the sheer volume of his terror.

"Okay?" Ray replied, confused. This was neither a yes nor a no, which annoyed him, but knowing it was a rarity for Will to call him, combined with what sounded like a tense situation, Ray remained politely concerned, but was still worried. "What kind of accident?" Ray inquired, trying to remain calm.

"A car wreck," Will said, sounding either out-of-breath or terrified — or both.

"Your car?" Ray asked, assuming Will was physically (at least somewhat) unharmed since he hadn't mentioned any injuries.

"No," Will said. "That's what I need to talk about. But there was booze in the car and it was a one-car accident, and I'm the only one who walked away, so I just ran!"

"You just ran?" Ray exclaimed frantically and confused.

"Well, yeah," Will continued. "I mean, my dad's a Congressman. And Uncle Mitch always talked about how the media vultures for scandals about politicians. So if I stuck around, wouldn't it be trouble for you?"

Ray paused in silence. He was somewhat momentarily overcome by a simultaneous sense of pride and humility. He was a little surprised that his son, whom Ray thought kind of hated him, acted in such a levelheaded manner in a traumatic situation, specifically to protect his father. And after a moment of consideration, he decided he needed details. "Tell me exactly what happened," he said to his son in a calming, fatherly, and authoritative tone.

"Okay," Will began, "we were driving down I-70 and the car just veered off the road and flipped a bunch of times. I got tossed out on the first flip and just scraped my side and my hip and my leg — it was a convertible — but the two girls had their seatbelts on and they stayed in and—"

"So you're not hurt?" Ray interrupted, needing to make sure.

"Not really," Will said, "just scraped a little. I'm fine."

"What about the girls?" Ray asked, seeming to take inventory.

"I don't know," Will replied with a slight hush in his voice. "The car just flipped and flipped and stopped upside-down." Ray paused. "I couldn't see both girls, just the driver," Will continued, beginning to speak faster and more frantically as he began to reimagine the sights of the wreckage, "and I couldn't see the passenger, but the driver was totally crushed under the car, and I think she was dead, Dad; I think she was dead because there was so much blood and she wasn't moving so I just ran because I didn't know what to do and I didn't want to get caught-up in something but I should have gone back for her because she still might have been alive! What do I do?"

"Did you even know these girls?" Ray asked, confused by the fact that his son used the word "driver" rather than a name.

"Yeah," Will said, pausing for a moment in an unsuccessful attempt at calming himself. "I knew one of them."

"Whose car was it?" Ray asked.

"Ashlynn Bradley."

A long silence.

"My god—" Ray muttered, not knowing either what to say, nor how to finish what he'd just said. He told Will to find someplace safe to stay for a few minutes while he called someone. Will agreed and they hung up. Ray knew he needed to immediately make a difficult iPhone call. He scrolled through the numbers on his iPhone until he came to the one he needed and pressed "Call."

"Hello?" a voice said from the other end of the line.

"Lenore," Ray said, "we have a problem."