"Thanks, but no. Henry, I thought we discussed this. Your mother isn't overfeeding you now—you're overfeeding you."
"Maggie ..."
"Sorry, Henry," she said, noticing how his smile had slipped away. "So, what have you been doing today, since I saw you, that is?"
"Nothing much. I drove home to see the body shop guy about my go-cart. Gonna cost me a penny or two I don't have. But Gabe, he's my friend, and a real genius, he told me the guy who hit me drives a black car. He could see the transfer—that's what he called it. He said I should have called the police, and I guess I should have, huh? But that's my information for tonight. The guy who hit me drives a black car. How much is that worth to you?"
Maggie sighed. "Considering the fact that every other car out there that isn't silver is black? But I think different car companies use different black paints, so maybe we should look at your paint as extra evidence the cops can use once we turn the killer over to them."
Henry looked at Alex. "The killer? You got him figured out? Naw, no way. Not this fast."
"We have made a few assumptions, Henry," Alex told the man. "We believe it was a crime of jealousy, even of passion."
"But premeditated," Maggie put in quickly. "Because the killer was trying to kill two birds with one bowling ball."
"You're weird," Henry said, popping another nacho into his mouth. "So is he here? The killer, I mean?"
Maggie leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Yeah, he's right up there, sitting on the front bench in that ugly yellow shirt."
"There's three guys sitting there in ugly shirts, Maggie. Which one is he?"
Maggie was about to point to the guy in the middle, Barry Butts, when she felt hands on her shoulders and turned her head to see her father standing behind her. "Hi, Dad. Where's Sterling? You didn't come alone, did you?"
"Sterling's at the snack bar," Evan Kelly told them, his wistful gaze on the Majesties. "And there they are. My team. My friends." He shook his head. "Never take anything for granted, Maggie. It can all be gone in an instant. Poof."
Maggie felt Alex put his hand over hers and she closed her eyes, all the old nervousness back. Alex was here now, but for how long? "I'll ... I'll try to remember that, Daddy. Oh, look, Mr. Panelli has seen you and he's waving to you. No, wait, don't go, Dad, here he comes."
"Evan, good to see you, buddy," the captain of the Majesties said, extending his hand.
Evan Kelly pulled himself up to his full height, looked straight into Joe Panelli's eyes, then raked his gaze down the man's figure and back up again, blinked, and said, "Excuse me? For a moment, I mistook you for—"
"I've got a big mouth, Evan, and I went off the handle like a jerk. I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry. We want you back, Evan. The Majesties need you."
"—Someone I once admir—what?"
"I said, I'm sorry, Evan. And we want you back."
Alex squeezed Maggie's hand again as she blinked back sudden tears. Bowling with the Majesties might not be her idea of nirvana, but for her dad, being on the team meant everything to him. "Oh, Daddy, isn't that wonderful?"
"Well, yes ... I suppose it is," Evan said, looking confused. "So who's off, Joe? Barry, right? Frankie was number one on the list, Barry number two. So Barry goes?"
"Easy, Dad ..." Maggie warned quietly.
"Yes, Evan, now's not the time to worry about such things," Alex said, getting to his feet and reaching out his hand to Maggie's father. "Allow me to congratulate you, sir."
"Thanks, Alex," Evan said. "But I don't think I want to be here, Joe, when you tell Barry. If that's all right with you?"
"Sure, Evan," Joe said, looking over his shoulder to where Barry Butts was now standing on the lane, looking good in his ugly yellow Majesties shirt, staring down the pins at the end of the alley. "This isn't gonna be fun ..."
"You don't know the half of it, Joe," Evan said, and this time Maggie reached up and grabbed his wrist, squeezing it to warn him off. God, she hated confrontations. And yet, Alex seemed to live for them.
Except maybe not tonight.
"Alex? You're being awfully quiet."
"Probably because a fool should keep his mouth shut and allow people to suppose he is a fool, rather than to open that mouth and prove it fact," Alex said, helping her to her feet. "Henry? If you'd step out of the row and hand Maggie her walker, please? We need to speak privately. Oh, and there you are, Sterling, just in the nick of time. Allow Evan to take you back to his house, if you please?"
"Alex, what's wrong?" Maggie asked once Sterling and her father were on their way out of the bowling lanes ... bowling establishment. God, Alex was ruining her for American English. "And why are you a fool?"
"Can you guys talk louder? I'm missing most of this," Henry said as the three of them stood close to the wall, beneath the sign for The Eleventh Frame.
"In a moment, Henry," Alex said, nodding toward the lanes.
Maggie watched as Joe Panelli spoke to Barry Butts, Barry's face getting redder and redder by the moment.
Joe kept speaking, gesturing, and Barry started to breathe so heavily that Maggie actually could see his chest going up and down from where she stood.
"Can you imagine how Lisa must feel if he looks at her the way he's looking at Mr. Panelli?" she asked Alex, feeling a shiver go down her spine. "I'd be scared spitless. I think I already am, to tell you the truth."
Alex stepped in front of her as Barry Butts shouted a word that would have gotten Maggie's mouth washed out with soap if she'd said it within her mother's hearing. He grabbed his bowling ball, shoved it in his leather bag, picked up his street shoes, and took the steps up to where they were standing two at a time.
"Where is he?" he demanded, his eyes wide and wild. "Where's your murdering father?"
"I suggest, sir, that you step back," Alex said quietly, his hands positioned on his sword cane, ready for action.
"Yeah? And who the hell are you? Where's your father, Maggie?"
Maggie put a hand on Alex's arm, wishing he'd move away from her, and pushed her walker forward. "You're through, Barry. We know what you did."
Barry opened his mouth to say something—Maggie didn't think it was to blurt out a confession—and then turned on his heel and stomped toward the exit, still in his bowling shoes.
"He didn't change his shoes," Henry said unnecessarily. "Man, I wouldn't want to meet that guy in a dark alley."
"Or on a deserted beach," Alex said, holding onto Maggie's walker until Barry Butts was no longer visible. "And that's the piece that's missing, isn't it? How Barry Butts lured Walter Bodkin to a deserted beach at midnight, in December. All right, I believe we can go now."
"Go where?" Maggie asked, clomping her walker and wishing it, and her cast, on that deserted beach, no longer necessary. "And why are you a fool?"
"Because we were wrong, sweetings," Alex said as he pushed open the door leading to the steps and the handicap ramp.
"Wrong? Barry didn't kill Bodkin?"
"Oh, no, he killed him," Alex told her. "We don't have much time, if I'm right. Lisa could be in danger."
"Lisa? Not Dad? Why is everybody always in danger? You're getting to be like that robot, Alex. 'Danger! Danger Will Robinson!' Jeez."
"Lost in Space. I loved that show. Who's Lisa?" Henry asked from behind them.
Maggie looked at him over her shoulder. "Henry, go home."
"The hell I will. This is starting to be fun. Now, who's Lisa?"
Alex picked up Maggie and carried her down the steps and to the car, Henry still huffing and puffing along behind them, still asking questions.
"That's it, don't tell me. Just leave me here," Henry said as Maggie slid into the driver's seat. "Everybody always leaves me, sooner or later. Yeah, well, you know what? Not this time, folks. I don't know where you're going, but Henry Novack is going there with you."