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I burst through the double doors in search of The Problem. The raised voices were easy to spot, crowded around two lanes. The tournament players were dressed in matching shirts that aligned with their team. Their names were embroidered on the back and over their hearts. Crystal Ballers wore pink, Reapers’ Revenge wore black, Kingpins wore white, and the very mature Sweaty Balls wore brown.

Several supernaturals held bowling balls in a threatening manner. One misdirected toss and this situation could go south very quickly. I spotted Quinta in the crowd of angry, contorted faces.

“Maya, thank the gods,” she said, shoving people aside to reach me.

“How can I help?” I asked.

Quinta pointed at a bat shifter. “Donny cheated.”

I folded my arms. “How does one cheat at bowling?”

“Magic, for starters.”

“Donny’s not a magic user.”

Quinta shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything. You know as well as I do there are people on this island who sell spells.”

I groaned. “This is the big emergency? Donny’s team won the tournament?”

“Cheating is against the rules,” Quinta complained. “It’s a matter of public concern.”

“What’s at stake—a plastic trophy?”

“The winners get half-price drinks at the bar of their choosing,” Quinta replied.

Ah, now there was a motive.

I spun to face the accused. “Did you cheat?”

Donny recoiled. “No, I would never. We won fair and square. They just don’t want to accept that a bat shifter was capable of whooping their butts.”

“It’s discrimination,” someone shouted from the back of the crowd.

Tempers were about to solar flare. I couldn’t afford to let this spiral out of control.

“Let me take a look around. I need everybody to stand behind the line.” I pointed to the red strip that divided the lanes from the rest of the alley.

The group inched behind the line. I examined the floor for any magical debris. Then I picked up each ball on the machine and checked it for evidence.

“The blue ball is the one Donny used,” Quinta said, ever helpful.

I made a show of taking extra time to inspect the blue one. It smelled like sweat and popcorn. No sign of magical residue. I set it down and walked along the lane, scrutinizing the floor for any trace of a spell.

Then I spotted it.

My stomach sank. I’d wanted him to be innocent if only to avoid a fight. I turned and walked back to the crowd.

“Donny’s in the clear, but how about I buy everyone in the tournament drinks tonight?” I offered. “You can all be winners.” And then I’d submit an expense report to Justine.

The crowd cheered and quickly dispersed, now that the matter was resolved favorably.

I pulled Donny aside. “If you ever do that again,” I warned in a low voice, “I will put it on your permanent record.”

Donny’s jaw went slack. “I thought you absolved me.”

“I lied.”

“Why would you do that?”