watched her cheeks flush. But she lifted her chin and stood her ground. Dante knew he was watching a show of courage and restraint, but Maryvelle mistook Tanyalee’s calm for submission. She gazed at the rest of the team with bitter glee.
“Why, with Taffy Newberry on the team, ya’ll should have prison stripes on those pink shirts of yours!” She smiled widely at the three law enforcement officers, in particular. “Instead of Sugar and Strikes, ya’ll should call yourselves Cops and Robbers!”
“Huh?” Fern’s eyes had gone huge. “What’s she talkin’ about, Tanyalee?”
It was subtle, but Dante saw Cheri press even closer to her sister, then squeeze her hand. “Maryvelle,” Cheri said evenly. “If you wanted Thomas on your team, perhaps you should have been nicer to him when we were kids.”
“Is that you, Maryvelle Spickler Wilcox?” Garland came strolling down from the observation area, his hands nonchalantly stuffed in his pockets. He went around the semicircle of chairs to stand just behind Tanyalee. “Well, yes! From here I can see that it is you! Why don’t you run along now, Maryvelle, before you embarrass yourself and the fine organization you are representin’ here today?”
Gladys took a step forward. She folded her arms and squinted her false eyelashes at Maryvelle. “Go on and git, like Garland said. It’s plain to see you’re jealous as a jilted skunk.”
Maryvelle reddened and her bright eyes grew as hard as creek pebbles.
One by one, the rest of the Sugar & Strikes team came to stand with Tanyalee. Viv spun around in her scorekeeper throne and glared. Dante went to stand on Tanyalee’s other side, opposite Cheri. Even genial Tater, who wouldn’t like to cause insult to a fly, stared expressionlessly at Maryvelle.
Whatever she’d come for, she wouldn’t be leaving with.
Dante caught Turner’s eye and said one word. “Sheriff?”
As if he’d been waiting for his cue, Turner moved forward to cup Maryvelle’s elbow in his hand and guide her toward the bowling alley’s main floor. “Miz Wilcox,” Turner said, “why don’t I escort you back … to people who might care what you think?”
Maryvelle sputtered. Her cronies skittered away, disappearing into the milling crowd headed for the snack bar. She looked as if she’d like to slap Turner, but apparently thought better of it before she was seen assaulting a police officer.
Instead, she yanked her arm away with dramatic flair, even though Turner had never even closed his grip. “Seeing as I have no desire to associate with criminals, I am already gone!”
“Thank you for the support, everyone.” Tanyalee’s voice was small and wobbly. “Fern? Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Once the Maryvelle incident was behind them, the rest of the bowl-a-thon went by quickly, a new sense of solidarity among the team members. The rivalry between Gladys and Wes had lost its edge, although Wes did corner Dante at one point to whisper harshly in his ear.
“Felon? Are you kidding? You know we’re not—”
Dante cut him off. “Not now.”
The highlight of the whole day was when Fern followed up four gutter balls with a strike. The plastic orange chairs emptied for a loud group celebration, and Dante picked her up to sit on his shoulder. Fern’s face was beaming when she was back on solid ground, and the first person she ran to was Tanyalee.
Interestingly enough, J.J. DeCourcy wandered in for the last few frames, sat near O’Connor and Garland, and cheered when the team was awarded both trophies. Not only did Dante average a 231 for the day, the team raised $16,500 for the Girls Club, a large percentage of which was courtesy of Tater Wayne.
After they posed with their trophies for the official team photo, Dante felt a tug on the back of his T-shirt. Fern stood there with Gladys at her side.
“Ten minutes,” Gladys said, failing to hide her smile. “I have to say you’ve got the best form I’ve ever seen out there. And you’re a good bowler, too.” She wiggled one penciled-in eyebrow and sauntered off.
Dante wasn’t sure how to react to that, but Fern made it easy for him.
“She’s a piece of work, I know, but she’s got a good heart.”
Dante smiled down at Fern and placed his hand gently on her shoulder. “Where would you like to have our chat? I always like a dark room with a bare lightbulb if I can get it.”
Fern laughed so hard she snorted. “I bet you’d have your pick in this place.”
They ended up on an outdoor bench under