Yet a Stranger (The First Quarto #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,95
and at the next corner, the taillights turned and vanished, and Auggie was alone in the dark.
10
Theo slept in snatches, woke in fits, and read tweets and news blurbs about the shooting through bleary eyes. In the morning, he called Auggie.
“The shooting might be connected to Cal’s death,” Theo said. “Cal and Wayne used to coach Nia; I found a short article the Courier published when she signed to play for Wroxall.”
Silence.
“And the shooter might have seen your face,” Theo added.
Auggie groaned. “Hello?”
Theo paced his small bedroom, almost bumping his head several times on the low, sloping ceiling. “The shooter. I think he might’ve seen your face.”
“Oh. Shit.” Another groan. “God damn, my head.”
“Are you ok?”
“Uh huh, yup, great. Morning, Theo.”
In spite of everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, Theo smiled. “Good morning, Auggie.”
“So, I guess we better solve this murder.”
“You don’t have to sound so happy about it.”
“I’m not happy about it. I’m dying. I’m dying right now.”
“I’ll bring you one of those breakfast sandwiches you like.”
“With bacon?” Auggie’s voice was tentative. “And cheese?”
“Get dressed.”
“And a Piggly Wiggly doughnut?”
“Real, adult clothes, Auggie. None of that frat-boy stuff, please.”
Auggie was still swearing as Theo disconnected.
The January day was even colder than the night before; the sky was bluish white behind clouds that look like tissues rubbed too thin. Theo picked up the doughnut from the Piggly Wiggly, and he picked up two breakfast sandwiches at the Wahredua Family Bakery. By the time he got to the Sigma Sigma house, Auggie was waiting for him in the lobby. He had on jeans, a sweater, and a heavy coat. The scrapes on the side of his face looked much better.
“Doughnut?”
While Auggie opened the paper bag, Theo caught his chin and turned his head, examining him. “Did you take that prescription?”
Auggie’s answer came through a mouthful of chocolate long john.
Because Auggie’s Civic was still in the shop, and because they didn’t have time to head back to Theo’s house to get the Malibu, they took an Uber to the hospital. They tried to get in to see Nia, but they were rebuffed by a grim-faced woman at the visiting desk.
“Immediate family only.”
“We are family,” Auggie said.
Theo sighed, covered his eyes, and led Auggie back outside. The cold made Theo’s nose run, and he sniffled as he said, “I am so sick of this weather.”
“We’ll get an Uber.”
Theo shook his head. “No, I don’t—”
“I’ll pay for it.” Before Theo could object, Auggie had his phone out and was tapping rapidly.
They took the Uber to Wayne’s apartment. His BMW was parked in the assigned stall. In the intense brightness of the January sun, the building’s freshly cleaned mortar glowed. They were getting out of the Uber as Wayne came down the stairs from his apartment, crossed the parking lot, and emptied a box into the dumpster.
“Now that’s interesting,” Theo said.
Auggie nodded.
Wayne was halfway across the lot when he saw them, stopped, and then resumed walking jerkily. “Hello,” he said. “Looking for Orlando?”
“Looking for you,” Theo said.
Wayne just grunted and climbed the stairs to the apartment again. Theo and Auggie followed. Inside, the apartment was clearly undergoing a massive cleanout. Cardboard boxes lined one wall, stacked as high as Theo’s head, with flattened, empty boxes piled on the couch. Mounds of clothing covered the floor, divided into piles that had no clear organization to Theo. A black Hefty bag, the flaps pulled back, held shoes: sneakers, boots, cleats, even flip-flops. From where they stood, Theo could see into the kitchen; every cabinet door stood open, and the contents were spread on the counter, the table, and the floor.
Leaning down to speak into Auggie’s ear, Theo said, “Go look in the dumpster.”
Auggie nodded and left.
Wayne had disappeared into one of the bedrooms. When footsteps moved toward the living room, Theo was surprised to see Orlando. Orlando, on the other hand, did not look surprised to see him. Instead, Orlando looked guilty. His shoulders were hunched, and his head hung down, and he barely managed a wave and “Hello, Theo.”
“He’ll be up in a minute.” Theo looked around the apartment again. “Is Wayne moving out?”
Heavy steps announced Wayne’s return. He was carrying an enormous cardboard box, which he passed to Orlando, and he said, “Take this one down.” Then, to Theo, he said, “We’re cleaning out Cal’s stuff. Orlando is probably going to move in.”