and said, “No.”
“No? No to what?”
“No to whatever you’re here for,” said Garvey. He began walking to the car, still not looking at Hayes. “You shouldn’t even be here. We shouldn’t even be seen together.”
“I’ve been careful.”
“But not careful enough.” Garvey walked around to the driver’s side of the car. “If you were really careful you wouldn’t be here at all.” Before he got in he stopped to check the street again.
“No one’s watching,” said Hayes. “Can’t say why not. But I checked. And you know I check better than most.”
“I didn’t know. And I don’t care,” said Garvey. He got into the car.
Hayes looked through the passenger window at him. “I need your help, Garv.”
“No. I said no and I meant no.”
“It’s just one little thing. One little thing I need. An address, Garv.”
“Get off my car unless you want to lose a foot.”
“Here, I’m sorry about what happened.”
“I’m serious.”
Hayes stepped back. He anxiously flicked the cigarette away and leaned out to continue speaking through the window. “I’m sorry, Don. I am. But we’ve made headway, me and Sam.”
“You and Sam?”
Hayes gave him a pained smile. “Yes.”
“That’s not safe at all.”
“I know, I know, but we’ve gotten somewhere good. We just need to get a little further.”
“A little further,” said Garvey.
“Yes. I need an address.”
“Get it yourself.”
“I can’t, Garv. I’ve pulled all the favors I had on this, so I had to come to you.”
“Goodbye, Hayes,” said Garvey, and he eased up on the drive handle and sped off.
He got halfway down the block before looking in the rearview mirror and seeing the little figure huddled next to the other cars, watching him leave. He was tiny in the shadow of the enormous buildings around him. Garvey slowed the car to a stop and shut his eyes, wondering exactly why he’d picked this day of all days to get himself back into trouble he knew he could do perfectly well without.
It took Hayes several minutes to make it all the way down the block. By the time he dragged himself up to the window he was red-cheeked and puffing. He still managed a grin. “Where are we going?”
“Just shut up and get in the car, why don’t you,” said Garvey, and he reached over and opened the door.
Garvey drove west, past Westbank and Lynn, out past the city limits where the buildings shrank and small homes still survived. Hayes jabbered on as they talked, rushing through his discoveries and unable to hide his delight. Garvey noticed he seemed much more fluent than he had previously; whereas before he would leap from topic to topic and forget what he was talking about in a matter of minutes, now he managed to stay on one thread at a time without losing himself. It took Garvey a while to realize Hayes was something close to sober. He wondered how long it would last. Probably until this little adventure came to an end, if it ever did.
“So… Tazz works for McNaughton?” said Garvey slowly at the end.
“Worked, Garv. Worked. He’s done a runner, probably down to Mexico. Christ, I wish I was there. I’d be rid of this chill, that’s for sure.”
“And you’re sure about all this?”
“Nearly positive. I can give it to you, Garvey. I can give you the files linking them both. And then maybe you can go to Collins, and he’ll take you back.”
Garvey did not look at him. A deep stillness rolled over him like a cloak and his heart beat faster. “Maybe.”
“I just need an address from you,” Hayes said. “For an old friend of mine.” He tucked a piece of paper underneath the car’s driveshaft and patted it.
Garvey glanced at it as he drove. “And he’s complicit in all this?”
“I think so. I can turn him, though, I think. We didn’t leave on the fondest terms.”
Garvey gave a sardonic laugh. “Imagine that.”
“So will you do it, Garv? Will you get me that?”
“You forget I’m not police these days. They’ve still got me suspended. I can’t just walk in and start pulling residential records for you.”
“But you’ve got friends. People you can go to. They can get it for you. Right?”
Garvey sighed as he turned off the road. “Damn it, Hayes.”
“I know it’s a lot. And I know we don’t want to be attracting attention right now. But I need this, Garv. Sam and I do.”
Garvey drove on in silence as the car rattled through the pine countryside. In some places there was even livestock, something both of them occasionally forgot even existed.
“How is she?” asked Garvey.
“Sam?” Hayes said.
Garvey nodded.
“She’s doing. I think she’s fraying a bit at the edges, though. Hasn’t had anyone to talk to but me, and, well. I know that can be a bit much.” Hayes looked out the window at the damp trees. “She misses you, Don.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. I can tell. I know.”
“You know, huh?”
“Yes.”
Garvey took a breath and nodded. “Well. Thank you, I guess.”
They drove for more than an hour before Garvey pulled up in front of a small white house, quaint and humble and perfect. It had a white picket fence and thriving roses that threaded through a trellis in the front yard. Small tin toys lay scattered on the lawn, still pearled from the kiss of dew. Hayes curiously looked the house and yard over. He had never been here before. “What is this place?” he asked.
Garvey got out and walked around to the back of the car and pulled out his phonograph. Then he came to Hayes’s side and said, “You stay here. You stay in the goddamn car, you hear me? Just stay here until I come back.”
“Christ, all right. Fine.”
Garvey walked up to the front door and knocked, phonograph under one arm. The front door opened and a small, pretty blond woman answered, her mouth tight and grim and her eyes cold. They shared a few words, Garvey with his head bowed. Then the woman leaned out and looked beyond him at Hayes. She seemed to shake with anger and fought to swallow it. Eventually she allowed him in and shut the door.
Hayes sat in the front seat and smoked a cigarette and waited. After several minutes he heard something. He rolled down the window more and listened. Then he got out and shrank down low and walked to the side of the house to peek in the window.
Inside was a small, cozy room with a worn sofa and old bookshelves. A homey place, with lace doilies on the end tables. In the middle of the floor was the phonograph, playing a symphony Hayes could barely remember, some mournful Beethoven piece. In the center of the sofa sat Garvey, rocking back and forth, a little blond girl in his lap with her arms thrown around his neck, head perfectly still as though asleep. To his left sat another little girl, this one older and her blond hair streaked with brown. She stared at the phonograph intently, swaying slightly with the music, as if attempting to find some hidden truth within the machine that would unlock all the secrets of the world. Garvey stood then with the little one in his arms and he began pacing around the room, the two of them dancing, and Hayes heard him humming along with the music, softly and atonally. One big, rough hand rose up her back to cradle her head, her flaxen hair slipping through his fingers.
Hayes stared in shock and then withdrew, ashamed to have witnessed such a private moment. He walked back to the car, his face burning red, and sat without moving.
There was always more, he thought. Always more to everyone. For all the moments and feelings he could
