But he didn’t. So here he was. The establishment itself was pretty large. A fifteen-lane bowling center with a separate game room, featuring various arcade games. Two separate areas that offered billiards and darts. A snack bar, a café, and a sports bar offering live entertainment. Rock posters picturing bands from the fifties to eighties lined the walls along with vintage guitars and costumes and assorted neon signs. At least three employees welcomed him within the first five minutes. McCloud was right. Friendly staff. Fun atmosphere. The bowling alley was buzzing with a mostly adult Friday-night crowd. Adam bypassed the counter that rented balls and shoes and went directly for the sports bar. He knew the bartender, Clive, from the ski slopes. They nodded in greeting and Adam ordered a beer while eyeing the nearby stage where five musicians—all women—quipped while plugging in various cords and amplifiers. “Who’s the band?” “Mountain Fever.” “Never heard of them.” “You and me both.
