A Bad Day for Sunshine--A Novel

by Darynda Jones

  “Yes, she was.” Karen seemed to know more about the family than the rest. “But before that, well, let’s just say she emancipated herself from her parents when she was sixteen.”

  “Do you know why?” Sun’s question took Karen aback, but she needed everything she could get, so she explained, “Their daughter may be missing.”

  Every face showed genuine surprise, but Karen seemed to catch on the quickest. “And you think Forest and Mari had something to do with it?”

  “Honestly, no, but I can’t afford to form any opinions just yet. I’m trying to stay open to all possibilities.”

  When Karen’s expression hardened, Elaine added, “As any good law enforcement officer would.” Her tone was sharp, and Karen reined in her offended posture immediately.

  “I don’t know why she emancipated herself,” she said, brushing crumbs off her slacks. “I just know that Mari’s parents were not nice people, and she divorced them at sixteen.”

  “Tell her what they’ve been up to lately,” Wanda encouraged, elated with the juicy gossip to which she’d been privy.

  “They?” Quincy asked.

  Wanda scooted to the edge of her seat. “Mari’s deadbeat parents.”

  “Actually, that’s been going on for a while, now,” Karen corrected. “Ever since Marianna married into money, they’ve been trying to get their hands on it.”

  Sun tamped down the adrenaline that had spiked within her, and asked calmly, “Trying how?”

  “I’m not sure. We’ve had coffee a few times. Mari is really nice, and she adores her daughter. You have to know that.”

  “I could tell, hon.”

  “All she told me was that her parents were always calling up with one sob story after another, needing money for this or that.”

  “Does Marianna give them any?”

  “Never,” Karen said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “And why should she? They were horrible people. Not that Forest would let her be taken advantage of, anyway, but still.”

  “Have they contacted her lately?”

  Karen’s squinted in thought. “The last time we talked was right after New Year’s, but she didn’t mention them. I know they tried to get some serious money out of them last summer right after their big move here.”

  “How serious?”

  “Hundreds of thousands of dollars. Her father had some new scheme that was going to make them all rich. A sure thing.”

  “Like there is such a thing,” Elaine said, her face lined with concern.

  “Exactly. Forest refused, of course, but from what I understand, Marianna’s father was furious.”

  Furious enough to abduct his granddaughter and demand a ransom? It wouldn’t be the first time such a scenario came to town.

  “Thank you, ladies,” Sun said, rising to leave.

  “But wait!” Elaine jumped up. “You were going to talk to us about law enforcement.”

  Sun grinned at them. Every face shone with eagerness. Every face but Darlene’s. She seemed relieved that Sun was almost out of her hair. Which was odd enough to tickle Sun’s Spidey sense.

  “I have a feeling you guys know more about law enforcement than I do.”

  “Well, we were hoping you could tell us how to get away with murder,” Wanda said.

  Ruby jumped up, waking Myrtle, the ancient woman sleeping on the sofa, in the process. “You know,” Ruby said. “For research purposes.”

  “Hi, Myrtle,” Sun said, waving. The woman blinked at her, then settled back onto the sofa with a sleepy smile on her face. “Ah, well, getting away with murder. That’s tricky. In a word, you can’t.” A unified wave of disappointment crashed into her. “Sorry.”

  “Can’t you just look the other way?” Wanda asked.

  Elaine shushed the woman. “She can’t do that, Wanda. It would be unethical.” She’d added air quotes around the word unethical, and Sun realized she’d slipped into an alternate universe. One where elderly women, and some not so elderly, plotted murder and her mother used air quotes.

  “Well, Elaine, the man needs to die. Who’s going to do it if we don’t?”

  “Just who are we talking about?” Sun asked.

  “No one,” Elaine said. “We’re just thinking out loud.”

  “Are we killing him or not?” Myrtle chimed in at last.

  Quincy snorted, enjoying every second of the conversation.

  “Apparently not,” Wanda said as though thoroughly inconvenienced.

  “Who’s the hottie?” Myrtle asked, pointing to Quince.

  “You remember Quincy,” Elaine said to Myrtle, raising her voice.

  “He is fancy, but who is he?”

  Wanda, now annoyed, scowled at the poor woman. “How are you not dead?”

  “We need to go,” Sun said before she had to arrest the lot of them. “But I do have one more question.”

  Darlene tensed. That time, Elaine noticed.

  She cast a worried expression on her best friend. “Darlene, are you okay?”

  Darlene snapped to attention. “Yes. Absolutely. I’m sorry. What was your question?” As she spoke, her hands curled into fists, clearly apprehensive about what Sun would ask next.

  “Right. Okay, do you guys know who the Dangerous Daughters are?”

  After a tense moment in which the ladies exchanged furtive glances, they burst out laughing en masse. Again, Darlene’s laughter was a tad more forced than her book buddies’, but she did seem relieved.

  “The Dangerous Daughters,” Wanda said, doubling over. “What’s next? Aliens going to high school in Roswell?”

  And the laughter began anew.

  That was their cue. Sun and Quincy left them in a state of hysterics after Sun made them promise to call her if they remembered anything about the St. Aubins or if they heard anything.

  Elaine followed them out.

  Sun stopped and addressed them both. “Could this really be a ransom situation?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first,” Quincy said, his posture tense.

  Elaine’s lids slammed shut.

  Quincy rushed to apologize. “I’m sorry, Elaine. I didn’t mean—”

  “Don’t be silly.” She gave the giant next to her a hug. “I just feel so bad. A missing persons case on your first day. I’m sorry, hon.”

  “It’s not your fault, Mom.” She thought about that and corrected, “Wait, actually it is. What the hell?”

  Elaine had the decency to look ashamed, and Quincy gave her shoulders another squeeze.

  Wanda yelled from inside the house, “Elaine, for the love of tacos, we have to discuss this danged book!”

  Sun laughed. “What book did you guys read this week?”

  “Oh, I have no idea. I don’t read them half the time. We just drink wine and let Wanda rant. It’s entertaining. I’ll see what else, if anything, I can get out of Karen. Keep me updated.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Sun and Quincy sat in the cruiser a few minutes, trying to digest everything they’d just learned. Especially the parts the women didn’t want them to learn.

  “Wow,” Quincy said, as stunned speechless as his new boss. “Not only are the Dangerous Daughters real, but they know exactly who they are.”

  Sun nodded in disbelief. “It’s like my whole world has been turned upside down.”

  “Hey, do you think it’s them?”

  “The Book Babes?” Sun frowned in doubt. “Surely not. They aren’t old enough, and my mother isn’t even from this area. She was a Vegas showgirl when my dad met her.”

  “Oh, I am very aware.” His face softened in memory. “I’ve seen the pictures.”

  “That’s so disturbing,” she said, lying through her teeth. Her mother was a hottie. Nothing wrong with that. “Maybe it’s a post. You know, a position passed down from one generation to the next.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Either way, it’ll have to wait.”

  “Let me guess,” he said, guessing. “You want me to find out everyth
ing I can about Sybil St. Aubin’s parents.”

  “Wow, you’re a good guesser.” She leaned over to start the cruiser when Anita Escobar, her blond administrative assistant, came through the radio.

  “Boss,” she said, her voice hushed.

  Sun pressed the button on the radio at her shoulder. “Go ahead.”

  “Yeah, you need to get back here.”

  “On the way. ETA seven minutes. What’s up?”

  “There are marshals here. Two of them. They’re pretty much taking over your office.”

  “Like hell they are,” Sun said, throwing the cruiser into reverse. “Buckle up, buttercup. It’s go time.”

  She’d never gone to war with a U.S. Marshal, but there was a first time for everything.

  7

  Del Sol deputies responded to a call claiming that patrons

  of the Pecos Street Grocers were being harassed by a man on a

  drunken joyride with a motorized scooter from Walmart.

  It should be noted that Del Sol does not have a Walmart.

  —DEL SOL POLICE BLOTTER

  Sadly, Auri’s hiatus from the glares was short-lived. Her third class of the day was a veritable cornucopia of narc haters. Yet there seemed to be more furtive scowls than blatant glares. A step in the right direction, perhaps?

  She’d made a pit stop between classes at her locker. A janitor was cleaning the red spray paint off it, so she decided to keep her two new books with her. Cruz had looked on curiously, then, realizing what it said, he’d darkened. He dropped her off at her classroom and stalked away as though he’d made a horrible mistake in friending her.

  She could hardly blame him.

  After repeating the usual routine, handing the teacher her schedule, then sitting in an empty seat, Auri settled herself between a girl in full gang regalia, who could probably kill her with her pinkie, and a guy dressed much the same way, who would look on with delight as she did so. She decided to forgo eye contact and busied herself by taking out a notebook and a pen.

  A knock sounded at the door a microsecond after the bell rang. Auri stiffened, praying the principal wasn’t after her again. The teacher, a young woman the width of a two-by-four, answered the door and spoke quietly, but Auri couldn’t see with whom.

  The girl turned around to her and raised her chin. “Hey,” she said, her expression both amiable and curious. “What’s your name?”

  “Auri.”

  “Right. The narc.” She said it with a friendly giggle, and Auri couldn’t help but smile.

  The kid behind her laughed, too.

  “I’m Beatrice, but everyone calls me Bea. And that’s Raymond.” She gestured to the kid in back.

  “And everyone calls me Raymond,” he said, leaning forward to take her hand.

  They shook as a brunette from the next row leaned over and whispered to Bea.

  “Really?” Bea said. She turned to Raymond. “They’re looking for that girl in fifth with the braids and the glasses.”

  “No shit? What’d she do?”

  Before Bea could answer, the teacher closed the door and walked to her desk.

  “Welcome back, guys. Hope Santa was good to you.”

  Some of her classmates nodded. Some shrugged. Most ignored.

  “We have a new student today.”

  Auri froze.

  “This is Aurora,” she said, gesturing in her general direction. “I’d appreciate your best behavior.”

  A wave of heat washed over her.

  “Why?” someone asked. “She’ll figure out it’s all a lie soon enough.”

  The class erupted. Well, most of the class. A couple of the students were still in glare mode, but oddly enough, when Bea turned to them, they suddenly had somewhere else to glare.

  Auri considered asking if Bea would be her bestie but figured it was too soon. She didn’t want to come across as the desperate newbie she was. And besides, she already had a brand-new bestie, even though she had yet to see Sybil. The girl she’d met over winter break. The girl who wore braids and glasses.

  Concern itched the back of her neck, and she used her inhaler again just in case. Why would they be looking for Sybil?

  As class went on, Auri heard more and more of the whispers that chained across the room. They were looking for a girl. A girl named Sybil. The principal was going from room to room. That’s who was at the door, the principal, asking if their teacher had seen her. She wasn’t in trouble. No, she was in trouble. She had run away. She’d been abducted. She was last seen at the park. She was last seen walking north on I-25. They’d put out an Amber Alert. She could be dead.

  By the time class was wrapping up, Auri knew only one thing for certain. Sybil St. Aubin was missing.

  Risking everything, mostly her phone privileges, Auri took out her cell, angled it away from the teacher’s line of sight, and texted her mom. “911. A girl is missing? Mom, I know her. What’s going on?”

  Then she palmed the phone and waited as panic slowly took hold.

  The second the bell rang, and she hurried to the bathroom to call her mom. She locked the stall and dialed her mom’s cell.

  “Hey, bean sprout,” Quincy said. “You’re mom’s driving. I’m putting you on speaker.”

  “Thanks, Quincy.”

  “Hey, bug bite. So, you know Sybil?”

  “Yes, I met her at the lake on New Year’s. She was supposed to meet me this morning. What’s going on? Is she okay?” The tardy bell for fourth period rang.

  “Where are you calling from?”

  “The restroom.”

  “Are you supposed to be in class?”

  “Yes.”

  “Attagirl. I never had the nerve to skip my first day, but you go.”

  “Mom. Sybil.”

  “I don’t know, hon. This stays between us.”

  “Of course,” she said, the statement dripping with duh.

  “Sybil’s mother has reported her missing, but we have yet to find any signs of foul play. Did she say anything to you in the last few days?”

  Auri thought back. “I don’t know. She said a couple of things that were odd, but I just thought she was like me and saw the world a little differently.”

  “Nobody is like you, sprout,” Quincy said.

  She smiled.

  “What did she say?” her mom asked.

  “Before Quincy showed up and stole all the beer—”

  “That wasn’t me.”

  “—we made plans to meet in the front hall. But then she said her birthday was coming up and that she really liked me but we wouldn’t have much time and she hoped I would forgive her.” Her mom didn’t say anything, so she gave her a moment before coaxing her with, “Mom? What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know, bug. I wish I did.”

  “Sunshine,” Auri said, letting her mom know she was serious. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “That you’re too smart for your own good?”

  “And?”

  Quincy spoke up. “It’s just that Mrs. St. Aubin was saying something similar. Like we were running out of time.”

  “Like she knew something,” Auri said, thinking out loud.

  “Okay, I’m pulling into the station. Get to class.”

  “’Kay. Will you please, pretty please with cherries on top, keep me updated?”

  “I will, sweetheart. Hey, how’s your day going?”

  “Aside from my missing friend? Peachy.” She hung up the phone before her mom could ask any more questions.

  * * *

  “Peachy.” Sun looked at Quincy after Auri hung up. “She is not having a good day.”

  “Damn it. I hate to hear that, poor kid.”

  “Maybe the narc thing is worse than I thought.”

  “Or kids are dicks.”

  Leave it to Quincy to boil every problem down to its basest element. They exited the cruiser and examined an official-looking car parked beside them.

  “Marshals,” Quincy said, distaste evide
nt in his tone.

  Sun tried not to laugh. “Have you ever met a marshal?”

  “Yes.”

  She raised her brows.

  “No. But still.”

  They walked into the building, having to go through two electronic checkpoints. “So, who do you think the Book Babes want to kill?”

  “Uh, the former sheriff. Duh.”

  Surprised, she stopped at the last door and turned to him. “How do you know that?”

  “Because he’s a dick. Why do you think you’re here and he’s not?”

  “But why? What did he do to them?”

  “Well, he’s Myrtle’s grandson.”

  Okay, that she didn’t know. She also didn’t know the poor woman could get drunk on grape juice and had a pretty serious case of dementia, if her inability to remember Quincy was any indication. “And?”

  “He’s trying to get control of her estate.”

  “Myrtle’s estate? How big can it be?”

  He leaned against the wall. “I don’t know if you know this, but those Book Babes went in together and invested in a little company a few decades ago.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “Which little company?”

  “Well, I’ll give you a hint. Their logo is an apple.”

  “Oh, holy shit.”

  He opened the door for her. “Yeah.”

  She stopped him again. “Wait, even my mom?”

  “Your mom and dad invested first, then the Book Babes pooled their resources when they saw how well your parents did and bought in pretty early, too.”

  “How do you know this and I don’t?”

  “Because I used to work for said former sheriff. You hear things.”

  “So, are they all rich?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Let’s just say they won’t be hurting for money any time soon.”

  “Wow. Who knew?”

  * * *

  Quincy and Sun walked into the station like they owned the place, Quincy because he could and Sun because she was ready to take on some marshals. At least she was until she saw them.

  Or, well, him.

  “Sheriff Vicram.” A slim woman with short black hair, large eyes, and elfin-high cheekbones walked up with hand extended.

  Beside her stood her male counterpart with skin as dark as midnight and a startlingly attractive face.