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.”
21
One minute, Auggie had been enjoying the weight of Theo’s hand on his leg, surprised—always surprised, again and again—by the calluses there. Theo smelled the way he always smelled: something he put in his hair and beard, something that made Auggie think of blue cedar needles and moss. When Auggie had been thirteen, spending the night at Logan’s house, Logan’s dad had taken out a Buck knife and sharpened the blade with a whetstone. That was what part of Auggie’s brain recalled as he lay on the sofa, Theo’s hand on his leg: the rasp of steel against stone.
Then the door opened, and Theo shot to his feet, red darkening his face. Orlando stepped into the apartment, and the dumbass immediately started lying.
“Check his bag,” Auggie said when Orlando tried to lie again.
“You can’t,” Orlando said, stepping back and spreading his arms like he meant to block Theo.
“Why not?” Theo said. “What’s in the bag?”
“Nothing.”
“Great. I love nothing. Let me see nothing.”
“Augs,” Orlando pled.
“Quit lying and tell us what’s going on,” Auggie said. “You’ve got zero constitutional rights inside this apartment. You hired us to find out what happened to Cal; no secrets.”
The indecision in Orlando’s face was painful. “Fine,” he said. “Fine. I wasn’t coming to talk to Wayne.”
“Why were you coming?”
“I can’t tell you. I promised somebody I wouldn’t.”
“Who?”
Orlando shook his head. His thick eyebrows drew together; he looked close to crying. “Please, Augs. I swear it’s nothing bad.”
“Backpack,” Auggie said.
Sighing, Orlando slung it from his back and passed it to Theo. Theo opened it, shook his head, and took out a bottle of charcoal lighter fluid and a lighter.
“Start talking,” Theo said.
Orlando shook his head.
“Were you trying to burn down their apartment?”
“No!”
“Were you going to destroy evidence?”
“Of course not.”
“Were you going to kill someone and cremate them?” Auggie said.
“Augs! That’s not funny.”
“I wasn’t joking. I mean, not entirely. This is really sketchy, Orlando. What’s going on?”
He folded his arms and shook his head again.
“Fine,” Auggie said. “But we’re not leaving you alone here.”
“Wait,” Orlando said, “what are you guys doing here? And where’s Wayne?”
“Wayne’s at work,” Theo said, “and you’re going to forget you saw us. Otherwise we’re going to tell Mommy and Daddy Reese and all your siblings that we caught you sneaking in here.”
“Why are you so mean to me? Why can’t you be nice like Auggie?”
“I used up all my patience last year,” Theo said. Glancing at Auggie, he said, “Anything else?”
“Just the cleanup.”
“Right. Take care of that, would you? I’m going to keep an eye on balls-for-brains here.”
Auggie saluted as he rolled off the couch. He grabbed the stack of papers he’d brought from Cal’s room and returned them. Following Theo’s directions, he returned the stack of Wayne’s papers to the top of the dresser. By the time he returned to the living room, Orlando’s face was white, and he was clutching the backpack to his chest and refusing to look at Theo.
“What happened?”
“Nothing,” Theo said, but he looked way too self-satisfied.
“Orlando?”
“Nothing,” Orlando mumbled.
Auggie looked at Theo, but Theo just shrugged again.
“Let’s go,” Theo said.
They moved outside, and Orlando watched as