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“Just thinking about those enriching nuggets of knowledge that an English major provides.”
“Fuck me,” Theo said and rubbed his eyes.
But when he opened them again, Auggie was still smirking. Then the smirk faded, and he said, “You know what I’d like? I’d like to see whatever Shaniyah has put together in this investigation. Maybe that would give us an idea of where she’s been—or where she’s gone.” Then horror snowed across his face. “Shit!”
It hit Theo at the same time. “You think that’s what somebody’s looking for?”
“I don’t—” Auggie spread his hands. “I mean, Theo, I swear to you, she never said a word to me about this investigation into Leon. And if she dropped any content, I didn’t see it.”
“But if someone is trying to cover something up—if someone is trying to hide something—they may not know that. They might think, because you were helping Shaniyah with the video, you had copies of the recordings.”
“But Theo—I mean, it was a summer project with a girl who didn’t have many friends. How would somebody know I was helping her?”
Theo shook his head.
“Whoever it is,” Auggie said, “they’re dumb as rocks.”
“What? Why?”
“Because nobody keeps everything on a hard drive anymore, Theo. It’s all in the cloud. That’s the whole point of the cloud.”
“Have you—”
Auggie shook his head. “But I’m going to look through every damn file tonight, you’d better believe it. God, I wish I could watch those interviews Shaniyah recorded, the ones Colt and Ash were telling us about.”
Theo opened his mouth, and then the idea came. “You think she kept everything on the cloud?”
Auggie was silent for a moment. “I don’t know. Probably, yes. In some ways, it’s becoming the default. But I guess I can’t say for sure.”
Theo grabbed the phone from his desk again. “Want to pay me back for that stuff about Denise?”
“About the Margarita Mommies, you mean?”
“Answer the question, please.”
Auggie’s face became earnest and innocent. “What question? What stuff with Denise?”
This time, it was definitely a growl.
“I’m just having such a hard time remembering. The specifics—”
“Yes, Auggie. The stuff with the Margarita Mommies.”
“Oh, that. Sure, sweetheart, love of my life, my treasure. How can I make it up to you?”
Theo gave him the stink eye. “Prepare yourself for the role of a lifetime.”
He dialed the district’s tech department, which consisted—as far as Theo knew—of three desperately unhappy people in a dark room somewhere. He had the vague idea that, in some way, corn nuts were involved.
A man answered on the third ring. “Help Desk, this is Roger.”
“Hi, Roger. Theo Stratford here. I’m calling from Wahredua High. I’ve got a student trying to log in to her Chromebook; Shaniyah Johnson forgot her password.”
“It’s been like this all day,” Roger said.
“I know.”
“Every year, this is how it is.”
