Lev Rosen - Depth

“Can we bowl?” Simone asked. She glanced up at the scoreboard. Caroline had entered her name as Genghis. She was clearly feeling punchy; definitely not the time to ask about The Blonde.

“Yeah,” Caroline said, “let’s bowl.”

Simone threw first, the VR ball rolling smoothly from her hand and into the wall, where it continued to travel down the lane. If she hadn’t been there when she’d turned on the room, it would have been believable bowling. A whole lane in a small room. Even the jukebox was operational, as Caroline started tapping it while Danny threw. Elvis was replaced by Peggy Lee singing “Fever.”

The first round went to Caroline, who did a victory dance when she rolled strikes.

“This would be better with beer,” Simone said.

“There’s a vending machine outside,” Danny said. “I saw it when I got lost coming here. Want me to get us something to drink?”

“Make it dark,” Simone said.

“Two each!” Caroline called as Danny left. The door closed behind him, and Simone stepped up for her next turn. The ball appeared in her hand again. “Why did you invite him?” Caroline asked. “Was it just so I could yell at him? That would be very thoughtful of you.”

“He’s a good guy,” Simone said. She bowled a strike. “And he was helping me out on this case.”

“I don’t like his line of work.”

“You don’t mind mine.” Simone threw again, only knocking down half the pins.

“It’s different. Yours is honest. He dresses things up in lies.”

“To make people happy,” Simone said, turning around.

“Screw happy. I want people honest.”

Danny came back in, holding a six-pack of beer.

“The machine sold you that?” Caroline asked.

“Modified,” Danny said with a nod. “Only distributes six-packs.”

“Smart,” Caroline said, taking a beer from Danny. “You’re up.”

Caroline popped open her beer and knocked it back. Simone did likewise as Danny stepped up to the lane. Simone saw Caroline narrowing her eyes at him, shark-like, but bit her lip. Hopefully Danny could handle Caroline’s psych-outs.

“Simone says you helped her with a case,” Caroline said just as Danny swung his arm down to release the ball. He rocked slightly from the question, and the ball went right to the gutter. Caroline snickered.

“Uh, yeah,” Danny said, throwing a questioning look at Simone. She shook her head, signaling him to stay quiet. Danny looked at Caroline, who gave him nothing but a wicked little smile. He turned back, and pulled his arm back to throw the ball again.

“What’s it about?” Caroline asked this time. The ball moved slowly and unevenly, knocking over one pin. Danny watched it the whole time before turning back around.

“I don’t think I can say,” he said. Caroline put down her beer and strode up to the alley, patting him on the head as she walked.

“That’s okay,” she said, and with one fluid movement bowled another strike. Simone took a drink from her beer and handed a fresh one to Danny, who looked confused.

“She’s just trying to psych you out,” Simone explained. Caroline wiggled her eyebrows at them and rolled the ball again, knocking down all but one of the pins. She sighed, putting her hands on her hips.

“It doesn’t work on Simone, usually,” Caroline said, walking back to her beer. “But sometimes…” She winked at Simone as Simone approached the lane. Simone raised her arm as if to swing and tensed, waiting for Caroline to say something; she didn’t, so Simone rolled the ball. “What’s the case about?” Caroline asked just as Simone was letting go of the ball. Simone ignored the question as best she could, and the ball rocketed forward, into a seven-ten split. She turned to glare at Caroline, who was just polite enough to not laugh. Simone managed to knock down one of the pins on her next roll. She turned around and walked back over to Caroline while Danny took the lane. He glanced over his shoulder nervously, as if expecting Caroline to leap at him. Simone finished what was left of her beer in one swallow.

“Be nice,” Simone said softly to Caroline, as Danny swung his arm way back, apparently determined to throw the ball so forcefully not even Caroline could disrupt his stride. The ball curved wildly and took out half the pins.

“When am I nice?” Caroline asked. Danny went to take his second turn, seemingly more confident now. “Does it involve guns?” Caroline asked. The ball veered and took out only two pins. Caroline smiled at Danny as he walked back from the lane, and handed him her empty beer bottle. Danny glared but took it. Caroline stepped up to the lane and stretched her arms before the ball appeared in her hand.

“You know what’s funny?” Danny asked in a vaguely aggressive tone that didn’t quite work, like a kitten playing tiger. Simone stared at him. Was he trying to psych Caroline out? He couldn’t be dumb enough to think he could do that. “I’m a brunet, Simone is a redhead, you’re a raven-haired vixen…” He stopped to drink his beer. Simone was now staring intently at him. He wasn’t going to do what it sounded like, she hoped. She liked him, he was a good kid, and she didn’t want to have to smack him to keep him from talking. Caroline rolled the ball, and just as she did so, Danny added, “All we need is a blonde.”

The sound effect of crashing pins that Caroline’s strike generated was incredibly loud to Simone. She clenched her hands, resisting the urge to grab his hair and drag him out of the room. He pointedly avoided her gaze.

“I think you’re psyching out the wrong person,” Caroline said, with a look of amusement. Simone realized she must look very angry. “He took my beer,” she lied, trying to relax her face. Caroline shrugged and turned back to the lane. Danny turned to Simone, smiling. He looked happy, as though he’d come up with a good idea. Simone desperately shook her head, but he nodded back just as emphatically. This wasn’t just him getting back at Caroline. He thought he was helping.

“Do you know any blondes?” Danny asked loudly as Caroline swung back her arm. “Maybe you met one at the Four Seasons?” Simone reached out but wasn’t fast enough to clamp his mouth shut. Her hand was heavy from the glove, and she ended up just patting his face. He looked at her confused, but before she could say anything, she realized something else was wrong. There was no sound of a strike. Simone looked over at the lane. Caroline was silhouetted by it, her gutter ball rolling slowly out of sight.

“Met with a blonde at the Four Seasons?” Caroline turned around, looking unhappy. She crossed her arms. “Is this a setup? Am I involved in your case?” She took a step closer to Simone and pointed at her chest. Simone said nothing. Caroline’s eyes widened, and for a brief moment, she had an expression Simone had never seen on her before: She looked hurt. Then her face hardened to a Glassteel sheen. “Am I a suspect?”

“The woman you were meeting with—” Simone started to explain.

“Marina. She’s an art dealer. I’m buying a Reinel for my parents. Remember? I told you I had crap to do for them?” Caroline was angry now. She threw up her arms and walked away from Simone, then back again. “Why couldn’t you just ask me like a normal person? And do you really think I’m involved? You think I wouldn’t tell you if I was involved in some sort of… what? Conspiracy?” She stared Simone down, and Simone glanced downward. Her voice got lower, colder. “That is what you think, isn’t it? One meeting with some woman involved in your case and you think I’m conspiring against you. You think I’m that crap of a friend, don’t you?”

“She pointed a gun at me,” Simone said. Caroline didn’t say anything—just stared at Simone and crossed her arms, waiting for something else. Simone didn’t have anything else.