There were hugs, hellos, and introductions. Elsie said something about Jax’s outfit, the compliment was returned.
The line to the keg kept growing, so they moved away.
Twice she tried to redirect the conversation to the people giving the party, both times she was interrupted.
“There’s a lot of Auburn kids here.”
“Hey, we go to every Bremerton party we can. They have better booze,” Todd told her.
“Well, if it isn’t the algebra protégé.”
Claire turned to see Sean Fisher and two of his sidekicks flanking him.
“Hey, Sean.”
From the gleam in Sean’s eyes, it appeared that he’d either been pregaming for the party or he’d been there longer than everyone else.
Todd and Sean did a little fist bump. “That was some crazy shit you did in Eastman’s room.”
So crazy it seemed that’s all anyone wanted to talk about.
“Jax, move to Claire’s left, look behind Sean.” Cooper’s voice added a layer of distraction.
“I wish I had seen it.”
“Epic, ballsy shit.”
Claire listened while the small group she stood with yammered on and on.
“Did you really get pulled out of Dunnan’s class?” Kyle asked.
“Coach Bennett made it happen.”
“Sucks. I had Bennett last year. He’s the hardest math teacher at Auburn.”
“Did you have him for algebra?”
“Physics.”
“A little more to the left, Jax.” Cooper’s voice was a whisper in her ear.
Claire kept the conversation going. “That’s pretty advanced math.”
“I want to get into USC.”
Elsie leaned into her boyfriend’s arm. “You’ll get in.”
“Got what we need, Jax.”
“There you guys are!” Ally came bouncing into their circle. “Is this awesome or what?” She slid up next to Sean, smiled.
“It’s—”
“I need a drink, do you need a drink?” Ally couldn’t stand still. The nystagmus in her eyes was off the charts.
“I do. We were headed to the keg and ran into—”
Ally didn’t let her finish. “You don’t want beer. C’mon,” she said, pulling on Elsie’s arm.
“Hey, babe. Go easy, okay. Your parents . . . ,” Kyle tried.
“Parents? Who cares?” And Ally pulled her away.
“Wow! What did she take?” Jax asked.
“Never know with Ally,” Sean said.
Claire turned to him. “You know her? She doesn’t go to Auburn.”
“Not anymore, no. We went to the same junior high and sophomore year at Auburn, before her mom ended up in some rehab and she went to her grandmother’s. Even back then she seemed to always know where the parties were.”
Claire and Jax exchanged glances. “Any idea what her mom was taking?”
“Heroin, I think. That was the mom rumor anyway.” Wasn’t Sean a wealth of information?
“Mom rumor?”
“My friend’s mom was the PTA mom from hell. She always talked about everyone’s parents.”
“I can’t picture a woman taking heroin being on any PTA,” Claire told Sean.
“I read an article a couple years ago that heroin was on the rise with the soccer moms. I think that’s what the paper called ’em. Heroin Soccer Moms,” Kyle told them.
“Why heroin?” The question was asked by one of Sean’s friends.
“Because Dr. Feel-Good stopped handing them oxy. And heroin is cheap.”
Sean was right. As street drugs went, heroin wasn’t hard to come by. “Aren’t you the knower of all things drugs. Something you’re not telling me, Sean?” Claire prodded.
Sean took a drink of whatever was in his cup. “I’m smarter than I appear. I mean, I won’t be handing Eastman his ass anytime soon, but I know shit.”
Kyle kept watching the back door. “I’m gonna go find Elsie.”
Claire thought that was a great idea.
“Do you need the bathroom?” Jax asked.
Claire looked into her completely full cup. “Yeah, I need to empty the one out to put more in.”
The two of them left the guys and worked their way inside.
“Do you need to go?” Claire asked.
Jax shook her head. “I noticed the guys in the back split up and start mingling.”
“Let’s find Russell.”
“Any clue which one that was?”
Claire shook her head. “No, but I have an idea.” Back inside, they moved into the living room, which had completely packed out. She pointed up the staircase, saw a few family photos on the walls.
Leaving her red cup on a table with twenty empty ones, she and Jax bumped around kids and took in the images on the walls.
“Jax, stop.”
Cooper halted them in front of what looked like brothers. All of them in their mid-to-late twenties, early thirties.
And that was about it.
Two girls squeezed behind them. “Is there a bathroom up here?” one of them asked.
“That’s what we’re looking for.”
They followed the others until they found a line. “Get what you need?” Claire asked.
“Yup.”
Both she and Jax reached for the phones buzzing in their pockets.
“Wait until you’re alone to check your phones,” Sasha told them.
Claire opened her camera, put an arm around Jax’s shoulders, and took a selfie.
The first person in line pounded on the bathroom door. “C’mon.”
Five seconds later a couple came out and two girls went in.
When it was their turn, they went in laughing. Once the bathroom door closed behind them, they both opened their messages.
The house belongs to Mr. John Sanders. No wife on title. Looks like the house might be a rental. This is a picture of Russell Mirkin from the Bremerton files.
“Slavic or Russian?” Claire asked.
“We’ll work that out later. Let’s meet the party throwers,” Cooper said.
“Copy.”
Another flush of the toilet, and then a quick wash of their hands, and they left the bathroom giggling. “He is really cute. I saw the way he was looking at you.” They walked down the crowded hall, heads together like teenage girls do.
They roamed the house, said hi to a few of the kids they knew, then meandered to the backyard again. A mixture of cigarette smoke and pot formed a haze as the temperature outside dropped. A gas firepit lit up a corner of the yard. Around it were three guys who looked old enough to be the ones that bought the liquor. One of them might pass for one of the guys in the hall picture.
Claire jumped right in. “Hey, is one of you Russell?”
“Who’s asking?”
Jax giggled. “We heard Russell was throwing the party, and we wanted to thank him.”
Claire rolled her eyes. “She doesn’t get out much.”
Closer now, it was easy to see that these guys were not teenagers. Easily late twenties, maybe flirting with their thirties, and two of them were drinking out of crystal highball glasses.
“You’re welcome.” The guy that looked like an older version of the photographs in the hall sat back, all smiles.