Chapter 25
Every year, the staff wore colorful leis for the event, and as Augie slipped a ring of fake orange flowers around her neck,
she was glad for the disguise, however small. Her heart beat so hard, she swore she could see the flowers fluttering against
her shirt.
The setup had taken hours: They’d strung yards of string lights across the decks and twisted bamboo tiki torches into the
ground. They’d also blown up the cartoonish plastic jungle animals—rhinos and gorillas and giraffes. Luau, jungle, Aida said
not to ask questions.
Augie liked seeing the decorations come together. The whole space was transformed. The patio around the pool filled with tables
with hot pink floral centerpieces, the grassy area beyond the pool housed all the elaborate food stations, and the wide stairs
that led up to the Club’s lower-level entrance had fake vines wrapped around the railings. Even the smaller, upper patio in
front of the double doors had cocktail tables and extra speakers where people could look down on the party below. It became
even more dazzling at night when the pool lights turned the water to an aqua lava lamp and the lights blinked brighter against
the sky. Augie couldn’t think about how far they were from sunset now. It was only five p.m. It was going to be a long night.
As they made their way to the break room for family meal, she tried to stay upbeat. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood,
excited by the challenge of the night, the beginning-of-the-end of summer. She didn’t want to be a downer. She was happy to
see Zami, too. As he served summer orecchiette and told jokes about his beach bod, Augie laughed at all the right moments.
She didn’t know what she would say to Chat. It would be too hard to explain her complicated feelings. Over the past week,
she’d worked hard to explain them to herself. How could she admit that mostly, she was jealous of Mrs. Crawley? That Chat
siding with Mrs. Crawley made her feel as though Chat had chosen everything Mrs. Crawley stood for: status, wealth, superficiality.
It made Augie feel small and inferior, cementing her insecurities, how the Club members had always made her feel second rate.
Augie readied herself as they finished eating and Aida gave a toast saying how proud she was of how hard they’d worked that
summer, how quickly the new staff had stepped up. It felt like an ending, but Augie wasn’t sure of what exactly. She grew
more anxious as they took their places outside.
No Club member wanted to arrive first to an event, so it wasn’t until the clock hit six fifteen that people began swelling
up the patio steps. As if on cue, the sky paled, the DJ switched to a cover of “Over the Rainbow,” and the thick smell of
charcoal and hickory began wafting through the air.
Augie saw the Clines first, sporting silky red summer-wear; then the Andersons in matching floral prints; then the Schmidts
in boho chic; and so on. It didn’t take long for the pool deck to fill with glowing tans and strappy sandals and screaming
children. Augie was relieved when Mrs. Cline approached to ask for a mai tai. Work had begun.
Time moved quickly as Augie settled into the routine of the party.
She kept an eye on the food as people began eating, ran drinks back and forth, helped TC with an especially large order of champagne.
She was glad to be busy. It made it easier to avoid watching for Chat.
She even forgot to check her phone, despite Leah promising she’d text when she and her dad were on their way.
In fact, Augie and Zami were so busy at the grill station that Augie didn’t think about Leah until she was cleaning up their
station, batting away smoke from the barbecue, and felt someone grab her arm. For a second, she imagined Chat. She was relieved
to see it was Leah—until she took in her face.
Despite her bronzed makeup, gold hoops, and stunning orange halter dress, Leah looked wild. Immediately, she pulled Augie
to the edge of the party, behind a blown-up palm tree.
“Why haven’t you checked your phone?” she snapped.
Instinctively, Augie placed her hand over the front of her apron, the outline of her phone. “Sorry, the start is always crazy.
I was just—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Leah looked at the crowd. She pulled them farther behind the palm tree. Her expression was one Augie
hadn’t seen before: eager and panicked and determined.
“What’s going on?”
“This is crazy, but—listen.”
Augie pushed away a palm tree leaf as it blew into them.
“I was looking up the Latvian hockey roster again, like we tried before. But this time, I went through the group photos from
each year. And out of nowhere, I see this.”
Leah shoved the phone toward Augie’s face.
Augie went cross-eyed, studying the screen. It was a slightly pixelated picture of a hockey team, rows and rows of men in red jerseys. A second later, Leah tapped the caption below the photo, pointing at a guy in the back row.
Trey Fortin, it read.
“That’s Trey.” Leah’s eyes were so wide, Augie could see the pink lining of her eyeballs. “Once I saw his full name, I found
more pictures.” She pulled back her phone, scrolled, and pushed his Facebook toward Augie, impatient.
Augie couldn’t deny it. While he had a longer face and lighter hair, his eyes and smile told her this was definitely him—Chat’s
uncle.
“So that’s his last name? Fortin? Not Efhart like Chat’s?”
“Exactly. He must be Chat’s mom’s brother.” Leah was rushing, impatient. “Augie, there’s more. This is crazy, but look. I didn’t put it together right away,
but the more I looked at his photos, the more it hit me. I’d seen him before. I knew I’d seen him before.”
Leah reached into her bag. “He’s the same T. Fortin as here.” Her voice hitched as she pulled out the worn picture Augie had seen all those years ago—the one from Leah’s shoebox.
It was the group photo from Lyle’s summer training camp. His last summer alive.
“See.” Leah tapped the left back row. “T. Fortin. Number thirteen. It’s the same guy. The same Trey. He knew my brother, Augie.
He knew Lyle.”
Augie pulled both photos closer, looking back and forth, feeling dizzy.
“Augie?” Leah grabbed her wrist. “Trey could have been at The Manor that night, with Lyle. We need to find Chat, now. He has
to know something.” Leah scanned the crowd.
“I don’t understand . . . so do you think Danika knew Lyle, too? That they all did?”
“I don’t know anything for sure.” Leah took a sharp breath. “But they are the same age, and this proves Trey knew Lyle. Something is definitely up.” She folded the photo back into her bag, and Augie
sensed the energy coursing through her.
“Okay.” Augie tried to compose herself for Leah’s sake—to finally be the one to be able to help. “Let’s go. Let’s find Chat.”