“But honestly, nobody. Cal was the sweetest. He was—” Orlando’s face threatened to crumple. “He was nice, ok? You saw how the rest of them are. Cal was never like that. Everybody loved him.” Then his resolve broke, and he started to cry in earnest.
Auggie put an arm around him, and after a moment, he pulled Orlando against his shoulder. Orlando sobbed for a couple of minutes while Auggie hugged him. Auggie’s gaze came up to Theo’s, and then Auggie flushed. But he didn’t look away, and Theo was the one who broke first.
“What about money, Orlando?” Theo asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe. We can go look through his papers. I don’t know if we can get current bank statements, but maybe my parents can help.”
“You don’t know if he owed anybody money?”
“I know he borrowed money from Dad to start the business. He and Wayne borrowed it together. But they paid it back pretty quickly. They’ve done really well.”
“Something with training?”
“Yeah. Private lessons, private coaching, private training. People call it different things, but that’s what they do. Basketball, tennis, football, softball, soccer. It’s still catching on; they’re pretty much the only ones in town who do it, and they’re doing well because everything’s so competitive these days.”
“They’re good at all those sports?” Auggie asked. He had pulled Orlando onto the bed, and he sat with his arm around the other boy still.
“Pretty much. Cal played tennis, Division I, and Wayne played football. He was DI too. Everybody in the family’s played at that level. Well, you know. Except me. Sometimes they get the girls to help out with pointers, because Chris played softball and Pam played basketball and Billie played soccer, but that’s the exception. Most of the stuff they do themselves. They’re making really good money, I think.”
Theo glanced at Auggie, and Auggie gave a tiny shake of his head.
“What about personal reasons? I know you said everybody loved Cal, but sometimes people carry a grudge, something that might seem insignificant to anyone else.”
Orlando hesitated. Then he said. “Maybe Genesis.”
“Who’s Genesis?”
“My ex-girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” Theo said.
“Cool it,” Auggie said.
“I’m bi,” Orlando said, blushing. “She and my brothers had some sort of argument about breaking a contract. I don’t really know. I mean, my dad told me it was all fine, and she and I . . . we weren’t dating anymore by then.”
“That sounds like a money problem,” Theo said.
“Ok, well, I didn’t really think about it that way.”
“How are we supposed to help you if you don’t tell us important details like that?”
“He’s going through a lot of shit,” Auggie said. “Will you back off?”
“What about his girlfriend?”
“Jessie? She’s not really his girlfriend.”
“She seemed pretty mad when she thought he was cheating on her.”
“What?”
“Never mind,” Auggie said. “I’ll tell you later. Anyway, she’s out of the picture. I stalked her on social media; unless Aunt Marissa’s sixtieth birthday party was an elaborate, deepfake hoax with three hundred collaborators, Jessie was out of town the whole weekend when Cal was killed.”
“Come on, Orlando. What else? Bullies growing up. Or people that Cal bullied. Or his crazy exes. Or a player he hurt in college. Or a private coach he ran out of business.”
Orlando just shook his head. “You don’t get it. He wasn’t like that, and he didn’t do anything like that. He was a great guy. Um, except for, you know. The drugs.”
Theo tried a few more times, but he couldn’t get anything else out of Orlando. Auggie walked Orlando back to his room, and then he came back and shut the door.
“If they’re making that much money,” Theo said, “the brother has a motive.”
“Are you kidding?”
“You met him. He’s an asshole.”
“You’ve been an asshole since we got here. Does that make you a murderer?”
“He has a motive, Auggie.”
“Ok, fine.”
“And the Volunteers.”
“Who?”
“The Ozark Volunteers. The white trash, neo-Nazi dicktuggers who stomp around and pretend they’re serious shit. They control most of the drug trade in this part of the state.”
“I thought Cart said it didn’t look like a drug deal gone bad.”
“He did. But Cal was into drugs, and that can go wrong a lot of ways. Maybe he and a friend were using, they fought, and it was an accident. Or maybe someone killed him for his stash, but they missed that baggie you found. I’m just saying we can’t close it down.”
After a moment, Auggie nodded. “Is there anything else we need to talk about? Because if not, I’m going to text Dylan.” He looked like he tried to resist, but then he said, “He’s the one with the puppy.”
“Just one thing,” Theo said. “I’m sorry I said something dumb. I feel like I keep stepping on your toes, and I don’t mean to do that. You did a great job taking care of Orlando when he needed it, and you knew how to get him to open up and keep talking. Besides, you’re a good friend.”
The effect was instantaneous: Auggie’s shoulders dropped back, his chest came up, and he glowed. And his mouth. The smile was there, threatening to break out against his best efforts, lighting him up from the inside.
“I, um. I’m sorry I said you were thirty.”
“I’m almost thirty, so you’re not that far off.”
“And sorry I called you Dad.”
Theo laughed. “Honestly, that was pretty amazing.”
“You’re a good friend too, Theo.”
“Not really,” Theo said with a smile. “You’d better text Dylan. Have a good night. And I’m going to say this while I’m walking out the door so you can’t throw anything at me, but be safe, don’t do drugs, let a friend know where you are, don’t let him pressure you into exploring your body, and if for some reason you do, use protection—”
Groaning, Auggie threw his weight into the door, forcing it shut.
Theo’s smile dropped away as he headed for the stairs.
19
Auggie woke to his phone buzzing and a raging hangover. The night before, he’d made the mistake of accepting Dylan’s invitation to a party. He’d driven the Civic over to Dylan’s apartment, where forty people were crammed into the two-bedroom unit. He’d stuck to beer, and although a couple of guys had cornered Auggie, and one boy had tried to give him a hand job on the fire escape, Auggie had spent most of his time circling Dylan, checking out his bedroom—incense, a macrame mandala, dirty clothes everywhere—and watching the upperclassman, seeing if Dylan would make the first move to take their relationship from friends to something else. Dylan had hardly looked at Auggie, though, and Auggie had felt frustrated but also surprisingly intrigued by Dylan’s indifference. Now, he was paying for the beer and the late night. He pulled the pillow over his face while consciousness reassembled, and then he lifted it long enough to peek at the message.