The judge coughed, almost bronchial. However, given the state of Delaware and the current administration’s stance on what was and was not proper conduct among lawyers, and the egregious nature of the scheme outlined by prosecutors, the judge said, it was important to send a message that the blind pursuit of money cannot be tolerated. Dale Beegan was hereby sentenced to twenty-nine months.
The courtroom blurred around Evelyn’s father, who twisted his head to look at her. It was a look she’d seen only once in her life, when a blind man had been crossing the street and a semitruck driver laid on the horn and the man turned, terrified, his hands up, shaking, thinking these were the final moments of his life and he couldn’t even see what was coming.
People were getting up now, the hearing over. Twenty-nine months? Almost double the suggested minimum sentence? Sending a message about the blind pursuit of money? Her father had messed up, but why were the consequences so severe for him? Companies were offering bribes to expand faster internationally, investors were scamming their clients, manufacturers were skirting environmental regulations, all to make ever more money, yet no one from those groups was in court. No one from there was going to prison.
Her father started to shuffle forward, and Evelyn thought of the boy with the flattop haircut who just wanted to show all those rich kids that they didn’t run the world.
Rudy was opening the gate into the spectators’ section to lead her father out, and Evelyn stumbled to her feet. “I’ll handle this,” she said.
“There’s press outside. You don’t know how to handle it,” Rudy said.
“I do know how to handle it,” Evelyn said. She pulled her father to the side; he was staring at the ground. She waited until the crowds had dispersed, then took the elevator down with him. Outside, she could see a few photographers gathered.
“I don’t know…,” Dale began, but he was too stunned to finish.
Evelyn took his elbow. “We’ll just head straight to the car, okay, Dad? You don’t have to say anything. Just look straight ahead. I know photographers. Just follow my lead. We’ll get through this.”
She pushed open the courthouse door, passed the photographers clicking and running after them, and kept her eyes locked straight ahead as she escorted him to the car. As she opened the door for her father, he looked at her and said, his eyes still wide and frightened, “Thank you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Self-Surrender
Dale’s self-surrender date was December 19, and despite Rudy’s pleas to push it back after the holidays, the Bureau of Prisons wouldn’t budge. Before he left, Dale told Evelyn that he’d settled with her rental company; she’d forgotten he’d been the guarantor on her lease. When she’d said that she had a job and should handle it herself, he gave her the Bedazzler, which she hadn’t seen in months. “Couldn’t resist one last settlement,” he said.
On December 19, Barbara walked out to the living-dining room with a cup of tea, wearing a St. John suit that Evelyn hadn’t seen since Sag Neck and didn’t think her mother had brought to the Marina Air.
“Your father’s coming at ten?”
“Yeah. I think it’s about a three-hour drive and he wanted to leave some time in case we got lost. I guess you don’t want to be late reporting for prison,” Evelyn said.
“What are they going to do if you’re late? Send you to prison?” Barbara said, and laughed, a strange, sharp sound that Evelyn hadn’t heard in a long time.
“Mom!” Evelyn said, giggling despite herself.
Dale rang the doorbell that morning, an uncommonly warm morning for a Bibville December, looking like he was about to go golfing, in a light khaki jacket, pink polo shirt, khaki pants, and tennis shoes. He was missing his usual alligator belt; Evelyn wondered whether that was the sort of thing that prison guards would take from one’s belongings and sell.
“Hi, Daddy. You look nice.” Evelyn wasn’t quite sure what she was supposed to say, but the corners of his eyes crinkled a little bit.
“Thank you, honey. And thank you for driving me. I’ll be the envy of all the fellows at prison with such a pretty chauffeur.” The pads of fat that used to give him a chubby-cheeked grin were gone. He looked past her to her mother. “Barbara, hello.”
Barbara’s teacup was in front of her, but she hadn’t had a sip. “Dale,” she said, her voice trembling.
Evelyn waited a minute, then jangled the keys, trying to add merriment. “So, are you ready?” she said to her father.
“I just want to say good-bye to your mother,” he said.
Barbara stood up quickly, nearly knocking over her cup. “I think I’ll go with you,” she said. “What are you both looking at me like that for? It’s a nice day for a drive.”