Chapter 14

Pete Bargas hadn’t had many friends. It wasn’t that he was disliked, but rather, as Buck Ka-e-te-nay alluded to, most boys in Cactus Point were of the rough-and-tumble variety. Pete was gentle. A momma’s boy. He was more interested in a good book than a gun. More interested in whether there was life on another planet than scoring a touchdown. As were his two close friends, Jerry Lyons and Tad Newberry.

Jerry and Tad were next door neighbors and lived not far from Elena’s house. Just a short bike ride for Pete. Steele knocked on Jerry Lyons’ front door first simply because it was the first one he came to.

He knocked a second time and waited. Still no answer. About to leave, the door swung open. A woman stood before him wearing a full apron covered in white flour. Her arms were sprinkled with the white stuff as well. She scrutinized Steele.

“Mrs. Lyons?” Steele said.

“Yes?”

“My name is Lincoln Steele. I’m—”

“I know who you are. You’re asking questions about the shooting.”

“That’s right. I’m trying to understand what happened.”

“Pete went crazy. That’s what happened.”

“Do you believe that?”

“That’s what they said happened.”

“Do you think Pete could have done it?”

“They said he did.”

“But you knew Pete. Do you think he—?”

A man shouted from inside the house. “Mary, who is it?”

The woman looked over her shoulder. “It’s that guy asking questions about the shooting.”

A man appeared carrying a book with his thumb pressed in it to keep his place. His reading glasses were pushed up on his forehead. He placed his free hand on his wife’s shoulder and pulled her away from the door.

“Mary, go back to your baking.” He turned to Steele. “Stop bothering us.”

“Are you Mr. Lyons?”

“I’m Dan Lyons and we don’t have anything to say.”

The man shoved the door. Steele’s hand shot up, stopping it from closing. Mr. Lyons pushed harder, but the door didn’t budge.

“I only have a few questions,” Steele said.

“We don’t want to be involved.” He attempted to push the door closed again. So hard the eyeglasses dropped down to his nose. Steele held it firmly.

“I’m looking for answers,” Steele said. “I’m here because your son was Pete’s friend.”

“My son had nothing to do with it.”

“I didn’t say he did. Mr. Lyons, do you own a semi-automatic pistol?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m trying to understand what happened.”

“No. I have a hunting rifle and shotgun.”

“Do you know if Pete ever fired a semi-automatic pistol?”

“How the hell would I know?”

“Is Jerry home?”

“He’s studying for a test tomorrow.”

“Can I speak to him?”

“No.”

“It will only take a few minutes.”

“I’m his father and I say no. Now get. I’m done talking.”

This time when Mr. Lyons pushed, Steele pulled his hand away. The door slammed shut. Steele strolled over to the house on the right, Tad Newberry’s house, and was about to knock on the door when it opened. Steele dropped his arm to his side.

“Mr. Newberry?” Steele said.

“What do you want?”

“Are you Tad Newberry’s father?”

“I am. I saw you bothering Dan. What do you want?”

“My name is—”

“I know who you are. Leave us alone.”

“I’d like to speak to your son.”

“Tad doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Just a few questions.”

“I said no. Leave us alone.” The man crossed his arms and glowered at Steele.

Steele noticed a waving hand out of the corner of his right eye. A boy was leaning around the side of the house trying to get his attention.

“If you change your mind,” Steele said to Mr. Newberry, “I’m staying at Elena Bargas’ house.”

Steele stepped back from the door. It slammed shut in his face. He glanced at the side of the house where the boy had been. He was gone. Steele waited a moment and then climbed down the single porch step. When he got to the sidewalk, he turned left rather than back toward the Lyons’s house and his car. At the end of the Newberry house, he looked to the left and saw the boy with his back pressed against the house staring at him. He wore a red Spider-Man tee-shirt and black nylon shorts. His arms and legs were skinny and his white socks almost reached his bony knees. The socks had three bands of red stripes at the top. Steele motioned with his thumb that he was heading farther down the block. The boy nodded and sprinted to the rear of his house and then cut across to the back of his neighbor’s house.

Steele continued walking, now at a brisker pace. When he reached the end of the next house and was out of sight of the boy’s parents, he leaned against a tree and waited with his arms crossed. His eyes were active, scanning everywhere. He caught sight of the boy as he came around his neighbor’s house. No longer running. He was out of breath. Steele pushed off the tree and walked toward him. The boy stopped when he saw Steele approaching and didn’t move until Steele was in front of him. Then he took a step backward.