"It's a school, sir."

His mouth sours up. "Is that it, is it . . ." He looks over at Theresa's rose. "And them flowers the missus is all worked up about? How much they put you back, son?"

I shrug. Best not to say anything. He's just looking for trouble, and I don't want to give it to him.

"Bet it was a lotta dough. And you just giving them away free like that? How you get that money?"

"My grandma sent it to me."

"Your grandma sent it to you and you bought my missus flowers with it, did you?"

"Not exactly . . . I bought them for Annie and Theresa and I had a few left over."

"So my missus didn't rate. She was leftovers?" He snorts.

"Well, no, I mean, um."

"Darby! Darby!" Bea is doing her best to run across the rocking boat in her high-heeled shoes while holding her scarf around her head. She shakes her finger at Darby. "Don't you be getting after that nice young man. I won't have it. Just because you aren't kind and thoughtful the way he is."

Darby's face gets dark red like a kidney bean. He whispers something in Bea's ear.

Bea purses her lips. Her eyes get small and hard like the short end of a bullet. "Not if you expect to have another pineapple upside-down cake in your lifetime, buster." Her shoulders swing as she says this.

He whispers again.

Her hands fly to her hips. She glares at him as the wind whips at her scarf.

"Now just you be still and let me do my job here, missus . . ." Darby turns back to us. "Here's how we're going to play this. Boat gets to Alcatraz, you stay put. All of you." He carves a circle with his finger. "Won't have no shenanigans on my watch. Not with the warden on board, you hear? And that goes double for you, missy." He waggles his finger at Theresa.

"Yes, sir." Theresa bounces nervously on her feet as we get closer to where Alcatraz rises out of the water with its layers of green moss and brown residue.

Trixle straightens his hat and ducks back into the cabin as he catches sight of Mae Capone.

I guess she's been to San Francis...o...b..fore. Otherwise, she'd never wear fur in the summer. Man, it can be cold here when the fog comes in.

"Moose," Annie asks as the gulls suddenly make a ruckus-squawking and complaining like a bunch of old ladies, "if you were to get married, how many kids would you want?" She looks at me seriously.

"How should I know, Annie?"

"Would they all play baseball?"

I shrug. "Why else would you have kids?"

She nods. "Well then. You better make sure your wife can play too. That's my advice to you, Matthew Flanagan," she says.

I roll my eyes. "Whatever you say, Annie," I tell her as we pull into the dock at Alcatraz and the buck sergeant jumps off, winding the rope around the cleat. The cons who take care of the dock and unload the boats are standing at attention as far from the ferry as possible. Quiet as they are in their spanking clean chambray shirts you can feel the excitement run through them like some new kind of electricity has come our way. It isn't every day a woman as beautiful as Mae Capone comes to the island.

The warden gets off first with the Angel Island officers. They walk across the gangplank sure and true as if their legs don't even notice how it dips and rises. Then comes Bea Trixle, taking unsure wobbly steps in her fancy shoes, and three or four people I don't recognize, who must be visiting cons on the island. Officer Trixle is down by the snitch box, which is what we call the metal detector everyone must walk through before entering the island. He is supervising the visitors' walk-through. The next person, a little old lady in a blue hat, triggers the snitch box and it blares. Everybody crowds around to see the show. There's nothing like the snitch box for a little excitement.

The warden motions to Trixle, who trots over to get his orders. Trixle nods and returns to the little old lady. He has her walk back through, triggering the snitch box again. Officer Trixle motions to Bea, who clickety-clacks across the dock, swinging her hips with each step.

"Think it's her corset?" Annie asks. Al Capone's mom visited the island a few months ago and she set off the snitch box with the metal in her corset. Poor woman had to be searched down to her undergarments. She was mortified, never even went up top to visit her son after it happened. She got back on the boat and went home.

"Probably," I say, looking around for Theresa, but she has disappeared. "Where's Theresa?"

Annie turns around. "Trixle will kill us," she says.

I think again about what Trixle said about Natalie. He makes me so furious I could uproot buildings with my bare hands. Even so, I know my father would not have approved of what I said-or how I said it either. There are so many things to worry about, I can't keep track of them all. I just want this day to end.

"You stay here. I'll find her," I say, but before I can even begin to look, Theresa is back.

"Theresa!" Annie scolds. "You were supposed to stay here."

Theresa's brown eyes are the size of bowling b.a.l.l.s. "I saw something," she whispers.

Theresa is always seeing things and imbuing them with great meaning.

"For your book?" Annie asks politely.

"No, Annie. This really happened! Mae Capone dropped her hanky and I saw!" Theresa whispers.

"Yeah, so?" Annie says.

"She didn't pick it up again." Theresa's whisper is throaty. "It was off the boat . . . way off. I'll show you." She tugs on Annie's arm.

"Didn't you hear Trixle? We're supposed to stay put," Annie snaps at Theresa.

"Oh." Theresa's shoulders sink. "It was a pretty one with a hummingbird on it," she says.

"And you could see this from here?" Annie asks.

"I have sharp eyes. My daddy said so."

Bea Trixle is back with the lady in the blue hat. "Earrings," she calls to Darby, jangling a handful of jingling metal.

Darby trots over to the warden and gives this information to him. The warden motions to the woman to come through the snitch box again. This time no alarm. Then comes Mae-I can tell by the sudden buzz of interest from the cons. They aren't the only ones craning their necks to see her either. Half the folks in 64 building are out on the balcony watching.

We're stuck on the boat until Mr. Mattaman comes on board to escort us off. By the time our feet hit the wooden dock planking, the warden, Mae Capone, and Darby Trixle are long gone. Even the cons are back to their sweeping. Theresa skirts around to the spot on the other side of the boat to collect Mae's hummingbird hanky.

It isn't there, of course. We help her hunt for a good twenty minutes, but we don't find anything.

Theresa has her hands on her hips, glaring at us. "You don't believe me, do you?" she says.

"Of course we believe you," I say.

Theresa stamps her foot. "It really happened!"

"I just said we believe you, Theresa," I tell her.

"And you know what else? I touched her! With my hand! When she was talking to Moose. I have so many things to write down. Don't talk to me." She puts her hand over her ears. "I got to go record everything before I forget!"

PIXIE GUARD #1.

Tuesday, August 27, 1935

One laundry cycle has pa.s.sed since I gave Mae her yellow rose, and I haven't heard any more about it. I don't think I'm going to either. I'm square with Al now. He's going to leave me alone. My hives are practically gone too; no more wild scratching in the middle of the night. And not even Darby seems to have noticed Mae's yellow rose, burnt up as he was about me giving one to Bea. Thank goodness for Bea and her pineapple upside-down cake, that's all I can say.

Not that I've exactly stopped searching my laundry. I'm like a gold digger the way I check everything: every pocket, every cuff, every sleeve, every pant leg. I pay close attention to the plumbing too because I don't want Seven Fingers coming to my place again. Finding a note in the pocket of my shirt was bad enough. Messing with my pillow . . . that's something else again. A guy's pillow is personal, you know?

Still, all in all I'm feeling pretty good. I don't even mind that school is starting soon, mostly because that means baseball will be beginning too. Annie is going to join us after school. She'll be the only girl, of course. Her mom is pretty proud about this. She's started a new needlepoint pillow to honor the occasion: Home Run Gal, Home Run Gal, it says. So long as she doesn't make one that says it says. So long as she doesn't make one that says Needlepoint Guy Needlepoint Guy I guess I'm safe. I guess I'm safe.

Natalie is even doing well. She'll be home for a visit next week. And Scout is coming to the island this afternoon to play ball. I ran this by Jimmy and he seemed fine about it. He said he was glad Scout was coming, so even that little mess has worked out!

This time I decide to run the paperwork for Scout's visit by Darby before turning it in. I'm not taking any chances. I knock on the Trixles' door, but Darby's not there and only Janet is available. "Hi," she says. Her hair is in its usual braids and she has scissors in her hand. "Theresa with you?" she asks hopefully.

"No," I say.

She nods. "Theresa won't play with me. She'd rather play with your sister. And I'm not allowed to play with Natalie. Did Theresa really touch Mae Capone?"

"Yep."

Janet's shoulders sag.

"Nat's not around very much anymore. Maybe Theresa will play with you now?" I offer.

Janet sighs. "I don't think so. Theresa stays mad a long time."

"Theresa never told me you weren't allowed to play with Nat."

Janet's finger beckons me closer. "She's afraid it will hurt your feelings," she whispers, glancing down at the paper she's cutting. "Hey, look what I'm doing." She perks up. "Making bullhorns. I made a new rule. All my pixie jailers gots to have one."

"Of course. Bullhorns would be essential equipment for pixie jailers."

She nods vigorously, like she's relieved somebody finally appreciates this important concept.

"Would you do me a favor here and look at my paperwork. I've got a friend coming over. I want to make sure it's right."

"Me? You want me to look at it?" She stands up extra straight, puts her scissors down, brushes her skirt off, and tosses her braids behind her shoulders. Then she takes the card.

Normally I wouldn't trust this kind of thing to a seven-year-old, but seeing as how rules are Janet Trixle's specialty . . . Course I don't actually know if she can read. Her finger moves along the page, her lips moving silently, forming the words.

I guess that's my answer. She can read, but not very well. Still, she'll probably tell her dad I consulted her. That can't hurt either.

She nods. "Looks fine. When Scout comes, is Theresa going to play with you?"

"I dunno. Maybe."

Janet's lips are pressed together. She gets her scissors again and resumes cutting. I notice now what's written on the paper bullhorn: Theresa Pixie Guard #1. Theresa Pixie Guard #1.

Thanks to Janet, Scout arrives without a hitch, and Jimmy comes down to the dock to meet him. We're all headed up the switchback to Piper's house to get Annie, when Jimmy suggests a detour through 64. "I've got something to show you, Scout." Jimmy smiles in an un-Jimmy-like way.

"Don't tell me . . . a new species of fly, right?" Scout tries to catch my eye. He thinks this is funny and he wants to share a laugh with me, but I ignore him. I want to be very careful not to hurt Jimmy's feelings.

"No," Jimmy tells him. He leans in to whisper in Scout's ear.

"Really?" Scout answers, craning his neck in my direction, a question in his eyes.

Jimmy's head moves in a bunch of jerky little nods. "I figured you'd want to know."

"Jimmy, where are you going?" I ask as he leads us back around 64 building headed for Chinatown. I grab Jimmy's arm, but he shakes me off. He takes off running to outpace Scout, who is the world's fastest walker. They head down the cement stairway, into the shady cool of Chinatown.

When they get to the secret pa.s.sageway, Jimmy takes his screwdriver out of his pocket.

"Jimmy!" I groan, but it's too late. He is already uns.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the hardware that holds the hinge on the door. Jimmy's eyes avoid mine. He opens the door and a cloud of dust swirls into the air. Scout crawls inside.

"Wow," Scout says, his voice dull and distant. "Can you really hear people taking a c.r.a.p and stuff?"

"Shhh!" Jimmy warns as he climbs in behind Scout.

I don't go in after them. I stand outside fuming. What is Jimmy's problem? How could he tell Scout about this? What kind of a friend is he, anyway?

They stay in there for a long time. I wait, watching Mrs. Caconi's big ap.r.o.ns blow on the clothesline she hung back here. She won't let her clothes near the convicts. She washes them all herself.

When they finally come out, Jimmy is apologizing for not being able to play ball with Scout today. The way he does this, it sounds convincing, but I know it's a lie. Jimmy doesn't want Scout to make fun of him again. That's why he won't play.

"S'okay." Scout brushes the dust from his pants as Jimmy secures the hinges back in place. "Moose was gonna show me this place, right, Moose?" Scout asks.

Jimmy's screwdriver freezes in his hand. He's clearly waiting to hear what I have to say.

But I have nothing to say.

"Sure you were," Jimmy insists, drilling down so hard that his fingers turn white.

Scout's thick eyebrows rise. He looks from Jimmy to me and back again.

"I told Annie about this place too. Seeing as how she's another of your best friends," Jimmy mumbles. "And Piper."

"Piper knows?" I croak.