very end. They'll give Gary Hallet simple facts; they won't say too much or too little. By the time they have their story worked out and go downstairs, Gary has finished his third cup of coffee and has memorized every item on the kitchen shelves. When he hears the women on the stairs, he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and pushes his coffee cup away.
'Hey there,' Gillian says.
She's good at this, that's for sure. When Gary stands to greet her she sticks her hand out for him to shake just like this was a regular old social event. But when she really looks at him, when she feels his grip on her hand, Gillian gets nervous. This guy won't be easy to fool. He's seen a lot of things, and heard a lot of stories, and he's smart. She can tell that just by looking at him. He may be too smart.
'I hear you want to talk to me about Jimmy,' Gillian says. Her heart feels too big for her chest.
'I'm afraid I do.' Gary sizes Gillian up fast—the tattoo on her wrist, the way she takes one step back when he addresses her, as if she expects to be hit. 'Have you seen him recently?'
'I ran away in June. I took his car and hit the road and haven't heard from him since.'
Gary nods and makes some notes, but the notes are just scribbles, nothing but nonsense words.
'Probably a smart move,' Gary says. He's done this before, smoothed out the doubt so it doesn't seep through his voice. He reaches into his jacket pocket, takes out Hawkins's legal record and spreads it across the table for Gillian to see.
Gillian sits down to get a better look. 'Wow,' she says.
Jimmy's first arrest for drugs was so many years back he couldn't have been more than fifteen years old. Gillian runs her finger down a list of crimes that goes on and on; the misdemeanors becoming more violent with every year, until they veer into felonies. It looks as if they were living together when he was picked up for his last aggravated assault, and he never bothered to mention it. Unless Gillian is mistaken, Jimmy told her he'd gone to Phoenix to help his cousin move some furniture on the day of his court date.
She cannot believe what an idiot she was for all those years. She knew more about Ben Frye after two hours than she knew about Jimmy after four years. Jimmy seemed mysterious back then, with deep secrets he had to keep. Now the facts are apparent; he was a thief and a liar, and she went and sat still for it for longer than would seem humanly possible.
'I had no idea,' Gillian says. 'I swear to you. All that time, I never asked him any questions about where he went and what he did.' Her eyes feel hot, and when she blinks it doesn't do any good. 'Not that that's any excuse.'
'You don't have to make any excuses for who you love,' Gary says. 'Don't apologize.'
Gillian will have to pay even more attention to this investigator. He's got a particular way of observing things that catches you up short. Why, before he introduced the idea that love was blameless, Gillian never once stopped to consider she might not be responsible for everything that went wrong. She glances over to gauge Sally's reaction, but Sally is staring at Gary and she has a funny look on her face. It's a look that worries Gillian, because it's totally unlike Sally. Standing there, with her back against the refrigerator, Sally seems much too vulnerable. Where is her armor, where is her guard, where is the logic that can put it all back together again?
'The reason I'm looking for Mr. Hawkins,' Gary explains to Gillian, 'is that it appears he sold some poisonous plant matter to several college students which has been the cause of three deaths. He offered them LSD, then went and supplied them with the seeds of some highly hallucinogenic, highly toxic weeds.'
'Three deaths.' Gillian shakes her head. Jimmy told her there'd been two. He told her it wasn't his fault; the kids were greedy and stupid and tried to trick him out of the money he was rightfully due. 'Fucking spoiled brats,' that's what he'd called them. 'College-boy babies.' He could lie about anything, as though it were a sport. Gillian feels ill thinking how she automatically believed Jimmy and took his side.
'Your friend has been identified by several witnesses, but he's disappeared.'
Gillian is listening to Gary, but she's also thinking about the way things used to be. August in Tucson can bring the desert floor up to 125 degrees. One broiling week, soon after they'd first met, she and Jimmy didn't even leave the house—they just switched on the air conditioner and drank beer and fucked each other every way Jimmy could think of, which mostly had to do with his immediate gratification.
'Let's not call him my friend,' Gillian says.
'Fine,' Gary agrees. 'But we'd like to catch up to him before he sells any more of this garbage. We don't want this to happen again.'
Gary stares at Gillian with his dark eyes, which makes it difficult to look away or manage a half-decent fabrication. Maybe this gal knew about the college kids dying, and maybe she didn't, but she certainly knew something. Gary sees that inside her—he can tell by the way she stares at the floor. There is culpability in her expression, but that could be only because she was the one James Hawkins came home to on the night the history major went into convulsions. Maybe it's because she's just realized who it was she was fucking and calling sweetheart all that time.
Gary is waiting for Gillian to declare herself in some way, but Sally is the one who can't keep her mouth shut. She's been trying, she's been telling herself not to talk, to go on following Gillian's lead, but she can't do it. Could it be she's compelled to speak out only because she wants Gary Hallet's attention? Could it be she wants to feel exactly the way she does when he turns to her?
'It won't happen again,' Sally tells him.
Gary meets her gaze. 'You sound pretty certain of that.' But of course, he knows from her letter how sure of herself she can be.
'She means Jimmy will never go back to Tucson,' Gillian hurries to say. 'Believe me, if you're after him, he knows it. He's stupid, but he's not an idiot. He's not going to go on selling drugs in the same town where his clientele have been dying.'
Gary takes his card out and hands it to Gillian. 'I don't want to scare you, but this is a dangerous person we're dealing with. I'd appreciate it if you'd call me if he tries to contact you.'
'He won't contact her,' Sally says.
She cannot keep her mouth shut. It's simply impossible. What is wrong with her? That's what Gillian's glare is asking, and that's what Sally is asking herself. It's just that this investigator gets such a worried look when he focuses on something. He's a man of concern, she sees that. He's the kind of man you'd never want to lose once you'd finally found him.
'Jimmy knows we're through,' Gillian announces. She goes to pour herself a cup of coffee, and while she's at it she sticks an elbow into Sally's ribs. 'What's wrong with you?' she whispers. 'Will you just shut up?' She turns back to Gary. 'I made it perfectly clear to Jimmy that our relationship was finito. That's why he won't contact me. We're history.'
'I'm going to have to have the car impounded,' Gary says.
'Naturally,' Gillian says graciously. If they're lucky, this guy will be gone in under two minutes. 'Go right ahead.'
Gary stands and runs his hands through his dark hair. He's supposed to leave now. He knows that. But he's dragging his feet. He wants to go on looking into Sally's eyes, and drown a thousand times a day. Instead, he takes his coffee cup to the sink.
'You don't have to bother with that,' Gillian tells him warmly, desperate to be rid of him.
Sally smiles when she sees the way he places the cup and the spoon down so carefully.
'If anything does happen to come up, I'll be in town until tomorrow morning.'
'Nothing will happen,' Gillian assures him. 'Trust me.'
Gary reaches for the notebook he keeps to remind himself of details and flips it open. 'I'll be at the Hide-
