Connolly looked at him. “So all the rats got busy,” he said slowly. “You playing too? They send you over here?”
Mills shifted, leaning toward the desk. “They have a right to ask questions, Mike. The guy was a project employee, and he’s dead. That sets off a lot of bells. Van Drasek’s in a lather-what do you expect? And he’s got Lansdale jumping on him. You can practically hear him over the wire. They want to know what the hell’s going on.”
“So they sent you,” Connolly said. “You the advance party? What are you supposed to do, grill me? Or just keep me company till the big boys arrive? Christ. A little friendly visit. They pick on you for old times’ sake, or did you volunteer for the job?”
“Fuck you.”
The sharpness of it caught Connolly and he looked away, embarrassed. “Okay,” he said quietly. “So you didn’t volunteer. Look, I’m not ready for bedtime stories just yet. Not until I see Oppenheimer and Groves. Don’t ask why. There are reasons.”
Mills glanced at him, then looked toward Emma’s room, trying to work out his own puzzle. “Oppie’s not back until tomorrow night. I can’t stall that long. Don’t make this hard, okay? You’re supposed to be working with us.”
“Us?”
Mills hesitated. “Them.”
Connolly smiled. “Okay, then let’s make it easy. You got here and I was already gone. Nobody knows where.”
“Mike-”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back by morning,” Connolly said. “Just give me one night. I need to see him. To square things.”
“It’s not up to me. You won’t get off the mesa, Mike. They have orders to stop you at the gate.”
“You’re kidding.”
Mills shook his head. “Remember New York? They’re still pissed off about that. They think you’re the slippery type.”
Connolly looked away, thinking. “Then we’ll use your car. You went after me. You figured I was going to the site to see my buddy Groves. Going over everybody’s head again. They won’t stop your car.”
“And where are you going to be-in the trunk?” Mills said sarcastically.
“Just the back,” Connolly said easily. “Having a rest. They’re not going to search your car. Besides, you’re in a hurry.” He lowered his voice. “Come on, Mills. Take a chance. For once.”
Mills colored, stung. “Why? More games,” he said, almost sneering.
“Just one more. A little war game. Don’t worry, you won’t get shot. Nobody gets hurt, in fact. That’s the point.”
“They’re not the enemy, Mike,” Mills said calmly.
“They’re not on your side either, you know.” Connolly paused. “Just help me finish the case.”
Mills stared at him. “Finish how? Another rewrite? Is that what we’re talking about? You going to rewrite this too?”
“If I have to.”
“For her sake?” Mills said, nodding toward Emma’s room.
Connolly ignored the gesture. “Everybody’s. It’s better this way.”
“How do you know? Just how do you decide what people ought to know?”
“I was trained in it, remember? It’s how I spent the war.”
“Yeah. I thought you gave all that up.”
“Almost. Anyway, I won’t have to do it much longer. The war’s over. Everybody will rewrite it now. Pretty soon nobody will know what happened.” He moved again toward the door. “Meanwhile, I could use a ride. Just a ride.”
They were still staring at each other, not saying anything, when the nurse came back. She hesitated at the door, afraid of interrupting, then went over to the desk. “She’s asking for you,” she said to Connolly. “Two minutes. I’ve given her another shot.”
Mills broke the stare and wearily, as if he had lost an argument with himself, turned to the nurse. “You on night duty?”
She nodded.
“No other visitors. That’s G-2 orders. You understand?”
She raised her eyebrows but nodded again, a good soldier.
“Thanks,” Connolly said to him.
“She doesn’t talk to anyone until I get back,” Mills said to the nurse, ignoring Connolly. “I mean, not anyone.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Her husband might show up,” Connolly said.
The nurse looked at Mills. “I thought he was her husband.”
“Him?” Mills smiled. “No, he’s working with us.”
When he went back into the room, she seemed to be sleeping, and he stood there for a minute watching her, the sheet barely moving with her breathing. He thought of her at Costello’s, listening to the revisionist stories, somebody else’s Berlin.
“Is he all right?” she said, her eyes still closed. “Did you tell him not to worry?”
For a moment, still distracted, he didn’t know what she meant.
“Daniel,” he said finally. “Yes.”
“He’s coming?”
He looked at her, hesitating. “Of course,” he lied. “I have to go pick him up. There’s no other transport.”
“Oh, so far?” she said, looking at him now. “You shouldn’t be driving.”
“I’ll take Mills. Don’t worry,” he said, leaning over. “I thought you were asleep. You should be.”
“I was thinking about something. Hannah. You know she had no family?”
“No, I didn’t know,” he said, wondering where she was going.
“What will happen to the ranch? We could buy it. Do you have any money? I have some. Would it bother you? That it was hers?”
“Not if you get rid of the corn paintings.”
The nurse came into the room. “You really will have to go now. She needs to sleep.”
