She said, “I'm sure it wasn't easy seeing your father behind bars.”

“They brought him to a private room,” I said. “He wasn't even wearing handcuffs.”

My mother frowned slightly. “Still, it's not a happy picture.”

Abbey said, “Maybe he ought to plead insanity.”

Mom ignored her. “Your father has many good qualities,” she said to me, “but he's not the most stable role model for a young man like yourself. He'd be the first to admit it, Noah.”

Whenever I get this speech, I listen patiently and don't say a word. She won't come right out and say so, but Mom worries that I'm too much like my dad.

“Drink your milk,” she said, and went to the den to call our lawyer, a man named Mr. Shine.

As soon as we were alone, Abbey reached over and twisted the hair on my arm. “Tell me everything,” she said.

“Not now.” I jerked my head toward the doorway. “Not with Mom around.”

Abbey said, “It's all right. She's on the phone.”

I shook my head firmly and took a bite of my sandwich.

“Noah, are you holding out on me?” my sister asked.

“Finish your lunch,” I said, “then we'll go for a ride.”

The Coral Queen had gone down stern-first in twelve feet of water. Her hull had settled on the marly bottom at a slight angle with the bow aiming upward.

She was a big one, too. Even at high tide the top two decks were above the waterline. It was like a big ugly apartment building had fallen out of the sky and landed in the basin.

Abbey hopped off my handlebars and walked to the water's edge. She planted her hands on her hips and stared at the crime scene.

“Whoa,” she said. “He really did it this time.”

“It's bad,” I agreed.

The Coral Queen was one of those gambling boats where passengers line up to play blackjack and electronic poker, and to stuff their faces at the all-you-can-eat buffet. It didn't sound like a ton of fun to me, but the Coral Queen was packed to the rafters every night.