“Honestly? I don’t know.”
Theo rolled his eyes. “Shut the door. I was going to text you.”
Auggie shut the door and pulled a chair over to Theo’s desk.
“I talked to Cart,” Theo said.
“And?”
“And I don’t enjoy feeling like I’m sneaking information out of my boyfriend.”
“He’s your boyfriend?”
“Auggie.”
“I just didn’t know it was official.”
Theo crossed his arms.
“Because usually people, you know, go out to dinner with their boyfriends, and they introduce their boyfriends to other people, and they take them to work events, and they double date. Hey, that’s an idea. We can double date.”
The computer fan whirred.
“There’s this really cute upperclassman,” Auggie said. “He’s been flirting with me hardcore.”
“How old?”
“He’s been sending these adorable snaps from when he went to a friend’s house and played with a puppy.”
“You don’t want to tell me,” Theo said, “so either you don’t know, or he’s too old for you.”
“I think we’d have a ton of fun on a double date.”
Through the window came the clack of sticks, then a burst of laughter, and then a mock scream.
“I mean, did you guys actually say those words?” Auggie asked. “Like you both said, ‘Ok, we’re boyfriends now.’”
Theo scrubbed his face. “Ok,” he said. “Here’s what we’re going to do: let’s start over.” He dropped his hands. “Hi, Auggie. How was your day?”
“Great. Great day. So good. Do you want to see a picture of Dylan? He’s the upperclassman I was telling you about.”
“Sure. Then I’ll be able to recognize him when he shows up on To Catch a Predator.”
“I’m nineteen.”
“I remember.” Theo held up a hand to stop Auggie from speaking again. “Cart thinks this was more than just a drug deal gone wrong.”
“Cart’s not a detective.”
“Auggie, cut it out. I’m not going to do this with you.”
“Ok, ok. I’m sorry.”
“He says it wasn’t even staged very well to look like a drug deal gone wrong. He’s pretty sure someone killed Cal at his home, dressed him, and drove him out to that truck stop because they knew Cal had bought out there before.” Theo ran through the rest of his conversation, including the detail of the mismatched socks. “I called the neighbor, the one I talked to, and she said she remembered that Cal was barefoot when she saw him. I asked her why she didn’t say anything about it when I talked to her the first time, and she said, ‘You didn’t ask me.’”
“So helpful.”
“Right. So this is the part of the conversation where I tell you that the only responsible thing to do—the only safe thing to do—is communicate these inconsistencies to the detectives in charge of the case and let them pursue the investigation.”
“No.”
“Auggie, please.”
“You said you’d help me. You agreed. I said I’d do whatever you told me, and you said you’d help me.”
“I said I wanted to talk to Cart first. Now I’ve talked to him, and I want you to drop this.”
Auggie shook his head. “I’m not trying to be stubborn. Honestly. I know you think I’m—I’m immature, and maybe I am. But here are the facts: Cal was murdered, and the police aren’t handling the investigation right, and Orlando and his family need help. And you and I both know it’s not as simple as passing along information. Lender is dirty. And dangerous. And if he’s not following up on something as simple as mismatched socks, then it’s probably because there’s a reason.”
Theo leaned back in his seat. “I’m sorry, let me get something straight: you’re going to get involved in this investigation because you’re afraid a dirty cop is helping to cover up a murder?”
“Well, I don’t like it when you say it.”
“I’m going to call Fer. I’m sorry, Auggie, but I think I have to.”
Auggie’s first instinct was to cry. His second was to shout. He clamped down on both of them and kept his voice as steady as he could. “You can call him.”
“He’s not going to let you do this.”
“He doesn’t get to decide that. And neither do you. I do. Me, Theo. You might not like it, but I’m an adult.”
“Adults don’t rush into murder investigations. Adults don’t take stupid risks.”
Standing, Auggie nodded. He scooped up his backpack and slung it over a shoulder. He wanted to say something profound and mature, but his eyes were stinging, and he had to blink frantically to keep from crying. He made his way to the door.
“They won’t pay you,” Theo said. “You told me they won’t pay you unless we both do this.”
“I’m not doing it to get paid. Not anymore.”
Theo made a frustrated noise. “At least tell me you’re not doing this because Orlando’s manipulating you, because you think you’re in love with him or something.”
“Please. Orlando couldn’t manipulate a marshmallow. And you know I’m not in love with him.”
“Are you doing this to prove something to me? Is that what this is about?”
“No, but it’s adorable that you thought it was a possibility.” Auggie took a deep breath. The air tasted like cumin and chai and cheap weed. He put his hand on the doorknob. “Thanks, Theo. For, you know, helping find him.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Theo said, kicking the empty chair and then standing. He grabbed his satchel and dragged the strap over his head. “You’re going to do whatever I tell you.”
Auggie bit his lip, but the smile slipped out anyway. He nodded.
“And we’re not taking any stupid risks.”
“Definitely not.”
“And I’m not going to manipulate Cart for information. I’m not going down that road.”
“That’s really ethical of you. Especially since he recently became your boyfriend.”
Theo stabbed a finger at Auggie. “Keep it up. Keep pressing your luck.” Then he let out a wild growl, grabbed Auggie, and maneuvered him out the door. “Come on. We’re going to talk to Orlando.”
“Great,” Auggie said. “And Theo?”
Theo stared straight ahead, still manhandling Auggie toward the elevators.
“You can just get back to me about that double date whenever you want.”
18
They crossed campus, heading south toward the Sigma Sigma house. Kids filled the quad, laughing, shouting, a group of them playing with bubble wands. Theo barely noticed any of it. He was still replaying the conversation in the office. He was still trying to figure out what had happened.