“Let’s get you home,” Theo said. “You really don’t look good.”
It was late afternoon, close to sunset, and the light had turned reddish gold. It was the only thing putting color in Auggie’s face. A patrol car passed them, heading halfway up the block to turn into the police-only lot. Across the street, a brick strip mall held, among other things, a small café, a Family Video, and a bail bondsman. The door to the Family Video swung open, a bell jingled, and a woman emerged, holding the hand of a child who couldn’t have been more than four years old. The little boy was screaming at the top of his lungs about a Bubble Guppies DVD.
“I’m fine.” Auggie was still pressing one hand to his temple. “I think we need to figure this out.”
“Figure what out?”
“I—”
“There’s nothing to figure out, Auggie. This is it. We hit the end. Anything else and we’re asking them to put Lender on our trail.”
“I—”
“And even if we wanted to,” Theo said, waving one arm, “what could we do? We’ve got nothing. We’ve got a bunch of things that don’t go anywhere. We’ve got a dozen different pieces of the puzzle that don’t fit together. Hell, they might even be from different puzzles.”
“I—”
“And I know you might be in danger. I know this is a big deal. I’m probably more afraid than you are. But we keep running into walls, and there’s nowhere left for us to go.”
“I really think I need to sit down,” Auggie said, swaying.
“Oh my God.” Theo took his arm. “How about—” Theo pointed at the café. Auggie nodded. They crossed the street. It was only two lanes of blacktop without any cars coming in either direction, but Theo still kept a tight grip on Auggie’s arm. In spite of the cold, sweat glistened at Auggie’s hairline. His face was waxy. They had barely made it to the curb when Auggie bent his knees and was sick.
Theo held him by the shoulders, bracing him until it was over.
“My shoes,” Auggie whispered.
“Your shoes are fine. Come on, let’s get inside so you can sit down.”
The café smelled like freshly brewed coffee and cinnamon. A chalkboard menu listed the day’s specials, which included a peanut-butter-and-onion sandwich, a tuna sandwich with crushed potato chips, and a cranberry-almond salad. Acoustic pop played over a pair of speakers set near a small stage. There was no one behind the counter.
Theo helped Auggie to a chair, touched the back of his hand Auggie’s forehead, and said, “Did you bring your medicine?”
Auggie shook his head.
Theo made his way to the counter, spotted the bell, and rang it a few times. A girl with a crazy map of freckles and her hair in finger coils emerged from the batwing doors at the back of the room. Her smile faltered when she saw Theo’s face.
“May I help you?”
“Would you call an ambulance?”
“No,” Auggie protested from where he was sitting. “I’m fine. Theo, stop.”
The girl patted her dark curls, her gaze moving from Theo to Auggie and back to Theo.
“Really,” Auggie said. “It’s just a headache. I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”
“I’ve got Midol,” the girl said.
After a moment, Theo nodded, and the girl went back through the batwing doors. When she returned, she was carrying two pills, which she handed to Theo with another attempt at a smile.
“Two coffees,” Theo said. “And water, and . . . maybe that brownie over there.”
The girl rang up the food and drink, and Theo paid. He carried everything back the table were Auggie was sitting with his head in his hands. Auggie’s leg was bouncing rapidly, and his fingertips were white where he was clutching his head.
“You at least have to take these pills,” Theo said. “Or we’re going to the hospital.”
Auggie took the pills with some of the water.
“And now I’m realizing you haven’t eaten today.” Theo resisted the urge to swear. “I know you probably don’t feel like it, but you should try to get a little something in your stomach. Do you want to try the coffee or the brownie?”
Auggie’s knee bounced faster.
“I know you feel sick, but either you eat something, or we go to the hospital.”
“The brownie.”
Auggie barely managed three bites before he pushed the dessert away. Then he held his head in his hands again, his knee still bouncing like crazy. A little less than a quarter of an hour later, though, his leg stopped bouncing. His head came up. He finished the brownie, chasing it with a few swallows of coffee.
“Sandwich?”
Auggie nodded. Then, with a washed-out smile, he said, “Not the peanut-butter-and-onion, unless you’re trying to punish me.”
Theo ordered two of the tuna sandwiches, which came on croissants, and which were accompanied by kettle-cooked potato chips. By the time they’d finished eating, some of the color had come back into Auggie’s face.
“Thanks,” Auggie said.
Theo shrugged. “Headaches are tricky, and concussions only make things more complicated, but no food or drink will always make them worse.”
Auggie stirred his coffee. He spoke without looking up, but his voice was firm. “What’s the most likely reason someone took a shot at Nia? You told Detective Somerset several possible reasons, but I want to know what you think is the real one.”
“I don’t know about real, but the most likely is that she knew something.”
Auggie nodded. “That’s what I think too.”
“But that doesn’t mean—”
“It means I’m still a target, and so are you Theo. I’m not trying to be stubborn. I wish I could say I was doing this to help Orlando. I wish I could say I was doing it because I cared about justice, or because it was the right thing. But I think we have to keep going, or whoever did this is going to come after us.”
Theo worked his jaw. His throat was dry. “I won’t let anything happen to you again.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” Auggie offered a tiny, wry smile. “Let’s go back to the beginning. Why would someone kill Cal Reese?”
“Drugs.”
“Lender told us it wasn’t drugs.”
“And you believe that psycho?”
“He hasn’t lied to us. Not . . . not really. He’s always been clear about what he wanted. Even if he didn’t tell us why he wanted it, we knew what his goals were. He didn’t get upset when we started looking into Cal’s death. He got upset when we messed with one of his dealers.”
“So you do believe him.”
“I think, as far as it matters, we should assume he was telling the truth. Honestly, if it was drugs, I don’t even know where to start. The White Rabbit? Jesus. Let’s leave that to one side for a moment.”
“Ok.” Theo drummed on the table. “The most common motive is money. Or jealousy.”
“Jealousy?”
“I didn’t want to say anything, but I guess we should talk about it. Hasn’t Orlando’s behavior seemed strange to you?”
Auggie dropped the coffee stirrer. His gaze came up, and he locked eyes with Theo. “Orlando did not do this.”
Theo put both hands flat on the table. He studied the particleboard between his fingers.
“He didn’t.” Auggie’s voice rose. “He did not, Theo.”
“This is why I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“You’re damn right we’re not going to talk about it.” He raked fingers through his hair. “Money. Fine, let’s think about money. Who might have wanted money from Cal?”
“Ignoring the problem won’t make it go away.”
“Don’t you dare do that. Don’t you dare talk to me like I’m a fucking kid.”
Theo let out a slow breath, but he couldn’t stop himself from balling his fists.
“That’s your strategy whenever you don’t like what I think.” Auggie was breathing rapidly, and the only color in his face came from red blotches. “You throw that in my face because you can’t find a way to argue with me legitimately.”
“When you act like a kid,” Theo said deliberately, “I’m not going to pretend otherwise. But that’s not what I was trying to say.” He gritted his teeth, but the next part escaped him, and he looked up. “And you’ve got your own strategy too, Auggie. Whenever I say something you don’t like, whenever my opinion is different from yours, whenever I skate within a mile of sounding like I’m passing judgement, you scream your head off about how I treat you like a kid. How the hell is that fair? It’s not my fault we’re different ages. It’s not my fault I have different ways of thinking about things. Some of that’s just personality, but some of it’s the fact that I’m ten years older than you, and I’ve grown out of—”
“Fuck you.” Auggie wiped his eyes. “And I’m not crying; my eyes are watering because my head hurts.”
The girl was playing with the sound system, the music skipping from track to track. What was the right style of music for a public argument with a much younger man you had dirty dreams about? Probably a country-western cover of Bowie, Theo thought.
“Ok, I’m sorry,” Theo said. “If you want to talk about immature, I think I just gave you a prime example. Also, I thought we talked about this. I thought we agreed crying is ok.”
Auggie kept wiping his cheeks.
“If you don’t want to talk about Orlando—”
“He’s a good guy. He’s my friend. And what would Orlando even be jealous of?”
“Cal sexually assaulted his girlfriend, and as a result, she broke up with him. It’s not classic jealousy, but he might blame Cal for ending his relationship. And let’s face it: Orlando isn’t exactly stable.”
“He’s a lot better. He’s getting therapy. He’s on the right medication.”
“He says.”
“Stop it!”
The shout drowned out the cheery bubblegum pop that the barista had settled on. Auggie’s voice echoed back from the high ceilings.
“Ok,” Theo said. “Let’s both try to act like adults—I’m including myself in that statement. Talking about Orlando isn’t productive. You seemed like you thought money might be the issue; let’s see where we can get with that.”
The set of Auggie’s jaw announced that he wanted to keep arguing, but after a moment, he managed to say, “If Nia was right and Cal and Wayne have been getting kickbacks, where’s the money?”
“We saw Cal’s car. The police have it now. Or his parents. Or somebody.”
“I’m not talking about the car. I’m talking about the rest of it. If they were getting paid by check, it would have shown up in those bank statements. That’s obviously a no because a major team or a university isn’t going to leave a paper trail. We didn’t see direct deposits from other employers, and I don’t think Cal and Wayne would be stupid enough to use their company finances to launder the blackmail money. That’s an easy way for the IRS to get interested fast. We’ve been to the apartment, Theo. We went through their finances. They weren’t depositing extra money in any of the accounts we saw. So if they’re getting kickbacks, where are they?”
Theo frowned. “They could be intangible. I mean—”
“I know what intangible means.”
This time, Theo waited until the song changed. A guy with an impossibly deep voice came on.
Flushing, Auggie said, “Sorry.”
“Maybe they’ve got some sort of honorary position. Maybe they’re plugged into the old boys’ network now. I could see something like that going a long way.”
“But would Cal and Wayne have kept it a secret? No way; being able to brag about something like that is the whole point. And can you imagine Daddy Reese failing to mention that his boys are special coach’s assistants at Missouri Douche State?”
“No, I can’t. And please never say Daddy Reese again.”
To Theo’s surprise, Auggie grinned. “If Nia’s right, and if they’re getting some sort of kickback, then I think they’re receiving tangible items.”
“The car.”
“Right. The coach goes to a major donor, explains the situation, and suddenly Cal Reese buys a muscle car with a high-end trim for pennies. Or maybe it’s even simpler: maybe someone just shows up with an envelope full of cash.”
“The old ones are the best.” Over the speakers, the guy with the deep voice was singing about sex. He wasn’t calling it that, but there was a lot of you and me, a lot of playground and party and give you what you need. Songs, Theo thought, unable to keep himself from tracing with his eyes the hollow of Auggie’s throat, the cut of his jaw, that expressive mouth. Songs usually missed the whole point. He cleared his throat and said, “But we’ve been through that apartment, and we searched it pretty thoroughly.”
“I thought about that,” Auggie said. “I think there are two places Cal and Wayne might have been stashing their goods. Well, Wayne, anyway. Cal probably blew most of his on drugs.”
“At their training facility,” Theo said.
Nodding, Auggie said, “Or at their parents’ house. Flip a coin?”
“No need. Jesus, you remember what those people are like. Ma and Pa Reese made museums out of those bedrooms. And Chris said something about the boys in the family, how they still liked to sneak up to their rooms.” In a rush, Theo added, “She was talking about Orlando too, Auggie.”
Auggie just nodded again. “Ok. Let’s go burgle my friend’s house.”