They split up, with Theo heading for Wayne’s room and Auggie going into Cal’s. Wayne’s room could have been the mirror of Cal’s: a 2015 Cardinals poster, featuring the full lineup; a Lucite display case holding a baseball autographed by Ozzie Smith; a Rams jersey; a football autographed by Kurt Warner; a pair of battered football cleats mounted on a plaque, next to an award for Missouri All-State Football 2001. The floor was covered in clothes, mostly mesh shorts and t-shirts, and a mixture of mentholated foot powder and funk made Theo stand in the doorway, swinging the door back and forth to clear the air.
The lucky part was that Wayne had piled all his important documents in one place: on top of his dresser and underneath a plate that looked like it had held a grilled cheese sandwich at some point. Even his Social Security card was in the mix, which Theo learned when he picked up the pile and the card slid out. He also suspected that he could do anything he wanted with the papers except organize them, and Wayne would never know. The foot funk and mentholated smell made it hard to focus, so Theo carried the pages out to the living room and left them on the couch.
He went back to the room to do a few more sweeps. On the first pass, he examined the clothes—those on the floor and those in the closet and dresser—for any sign of blood. Cart had said Cal had died from a blow to the head, but he hadn’t said anything about defensive wounds or other injuries. Without that knowledge, Theo didn’t know how likely it was that the killer might have some sort of biological material on his or her clothes, but he didn’t want to miss the chance to inspect Wayne’s garments. He considered setting aside all the clothes that had dirt and grass stains, with the theory that the killer might have soiled his clothes in the tall prairie grass at the truck stop. But so many of Wayne’s clothes had grass and dirt stains that Theo eventually gave up—and, when he thought about it, a guy who trained kids out on fields all day was bound to have those kinds of stains.
On the second pass, Theo did his standard search for contraband. His youngest brother, Luke, had been a master at hiding things—usually drugs—and Theo had learned most of the tricks from raiding Luke’s bedroom. Theo went slowly: furniture, baseboards, the hollow-core door, outlets, light switches, even the light fixture on the ceiling. He found nothing. If Wayne was into drugs or anything else illicit, he was doing a better job hiding it than Cal. Or, Theo thought, he had simply transferred it into Cal’s room after Cal had died.
“Find anything?” Auggie asked from the doorway.
Theo shook his head. “Just papers.”
“Me too.” Auggie held up a sheaf of pages. “Oh, and a few rails of cocaine, but don’t get excited because I already did them.”
“Funny.”
“I thought you’d appreciate it because you’ve got all the jokes today. Come on, let’s take a look at this stuff. We can have some beers and relax.”
Theo crossed his arms.
“Kidding,” Auggie said with that huge, goofy smile, the one that had nothing to do with Instagram or Facebook or whatever he was spending his time on.
“So funny.”
They sat on the couch and pored over the paperwork. By some miracle, Auggie actually seemed to focus, which was a good thing because Theo struggled to make sense of the documents. He was very good at reading things closely—that was his job, after all—but numbers were difficult. He did all right with something straightforward, but all the credits and debits and dates swam together on the page.
“Interesting, right?” Auggie said.
“Yeah.”
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
“Let’s hear what you’re seeing.”
“No, you first.”
“Um, they’re making a lot of money.”
“Really? Let me see. No, that’s from last October. Theo—wait, why are these out of order?”
Outside, someone was calling sooie, sooie, and then bursting into guffaws.
“Ok,” Theo said, “so Ian always balanced the checkbook.”
“Oh my God.”
“Go ahead, you can laugh. I just—it doesn’t make sense sometimes.”
But Auggie didn’t laugh. He was very still, his eyes not even focused on Theo. Then his gaze shifted. “When was the last time you had a good idea of how much money you had, what’s coming in, where it’s going, that kind of thing?”
Theo’s face was on fire. He stared at the carpet.
“Never mind,” Auggie said. “Sorry, it’s not any of my business. I can’t even believe I said that.”
“No, it’s—I mean, Ian died over a year ago.”
Another of those long silences. The man was still calling sooie, and now a truck was beeping as it backed up.
“Doesn’t that stress you out?” Auggie said.
“God, you have no idea.”
“Can I—” Auggie smoothed the pages on his lap. “Would you let me help?”
“You really know how to do this?”
“Um, yeah. Fer is super good with it, of course, and he pretty much handles all the money now. But I don’t think Chuy even knows how many pennies are in a dollar, and my mom is the same way. For a while, when Fer wasn’t living at home, I had to, you know, figure some of this stuff out. And I do a lot of goals, projections, interaction numbers, that kind of thing with my social media accounts.”
“I’ve tried, Auggie. I’ve really tried.”
“Hey, I get it. Like I said, Chuy and my mom can’t do it either.”
“This is unbelievable.”
“It’s not as bad as when I had to see your bruised nipples.”
Theo put his face in his hands.
“Just in case, you know, that comparison helps.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Well, it’s the thought that counts.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Maybe I could help you with some of this stuff sometime.”
“Yes. Perfect. That will perfectly wrap up how much my life has fallen apart. Oh shit, Auggie, I didn’t mean it that way. This is so fucking embarrassing. Let’s pretend we didn’t talk about this.”
“Ok,” Auggie said slowly. “But it’s just one thing. Everybody needs help with something. I won’t bring it up again, though. Just—the offer is on the table.” He smoothed out the pages again, the paper crinkling, and said, “Let me scan through Wayne’s stuff and see if it looks similar.”
“Great. I’m going to go put my head in the garbage disposal. Come get me when you’re done.”
Instead, somehow Theo ended up with Auggie’s legs across his lap while Auggie stretched out and flipped through the paperwork. He had a tiny furrow between his eyebrows, and his mouth—that oh-so-expressive mouth—kept shifting. He’d bite his lip. Then his mouth would thin out. Then he’d chew the corner of his mouth. Then he’d bite his lip again. Why, Theo wanted to know, would anybody read Cosmo or buy paperbacks or watch porn when they could look at Auggie Lopez’s mouth all day?
“So, it looks like Wayne was telling the truth. Kind of.”
“Kind of?”
“Well, they were taking in between ten and twelve thousand dollars a month.”
“Wait, what?”
“Each.”
“Holy shit. Do you think anybody wants private Shakespeare lessons?”
“Sure, definitely, all those kids that smell like glue and wear black. Anyway, Cal and Wayne also had a lot of expenses. The facility they rented wasn’t cheap, and it looks like they pay installments on a lot of their equipment. I guess it wasn’t technically a loan, so Wayne wasn’t lying, but he definitely made it sound like they were clearing a lot of income every month. From what I see, they were definitely splitting the money fifty-fifty. It went into Wayne’s account first, and then he wrote checks to Cal, so there’s no way Cal could have manipulated those numbers. Last year, after expenses and taxes, they both made about fifty thousand dollars.”
“That’s actually pretty good for a single guy without any debts,” Theo said. “So why are they sharing a mid-range apartment?”
“I bet if you asked Wayne, he’d tell you they were saving money, something they could use for part of the purchase of their own facility.”
“What do you think?”
“I think Cal had habits that meant he always needed more cash.”
“Even making fifty thousand dollars?”
“Well, look. He took out regular cash withdrawals. A thousand here. Five hundred here. And it’s cash, so once it’s out of the account, who knows where it goes?”
“Drugs,” Theo said.
“Definitely drugs. Or sex. Or booze. Or parties. Or clubs.”
“What about Wayne?”
“I mean, he’s socking money away in a savings account. It’s not exactly a genius financial move, but he’s not hurting for money.” Then Auggie frowned.
“What?”
“Well, if Wayne did have a motive, it would revolve around their business. Cal was blowing through his cash. Maybe he’d gotten to the point where he needed more than he was making legitimately. He might have been stealing stuff from their training facility. He might have been doing private lessons off the books. There are a lot of ways Cal might have been threatening the business he and Wayne had built, and Wayne might have decided the only way to save things was to get rid of Cal.”
“Shit. I guess we should talk to him again, see if we can pressure him into talking about the business side of things.”
“Eventually.”
Theo narrowed his eyes.
“There’s no point in letting him know what we’re thinking. Not yet. Let’s wait and see.”
“God, you’re devious.”
Auggie rolled his eyes. “Oh, and I checked Instagram and Facebook. Wayne’s private accounts are locked down, but their company has accounts. SportsPeak.”
Theo made a face. “It sounds like a douchey orgasm.”
Auggie laughed so hard he had to bury his face in the couch. Theo didn’t mind. His hand had come to rest on Auggie’s calf, and he was surprised at how good it felt. And, of course, nothing was going to happen because of Cart, so it was safe. This was just friend stuff. They could just be friends.
“Anyway,” Auggie said, smiling that huge smile, and Theo wondered if anybody else ever saw it, or if all they ever saw was the showstopper grin he put on for the camera. “There are a ton of pictures of Wayne at that basketball expo, and they were posted Friday, Saturday, and Sunday of that weekend. He was definitely there.”
“I guess that’s something.”
“He could have hired someone,” Auggie said. “For the murder, I mean.”
“I thought you didn’t like Wayne being a suspect.”
“I don’t.”
Theo nodded. He was suddenly aware of the light dusting of hair on Auggie’s shin, the firm muscle, the heat of his skin.
Then the door opened, and Theo surged to his feet.
“Jesus Christ!” Orlando shouted. He had on a backpack, dark shades, and the guiltiest expression Theo had ever seen on an adult male.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Theo said.
“Me? I’m—I was just going to check on Wayne.”
“God,” Auggie said. “You are such a bad liar.”