A Bad Day for Sunshine--A Novel

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A Bad Day for Sunshine--A Novel Page 18

by Darynda Jones

Agent Fields stepped inside, took one look at the marshal, and asked Sun, “Are you busy?”

  “Nope. Join the party.”

  He grinned. “Have you eaten?”

  “I just had a burrito.”

  “Good.” He walked in carrying a bottle of moonshine and two glasses. “You do not want to drink this on an empty stomach. I can get another glass, if you’re game,” he said to Deleon.

  The man let out a long sigh, then said, “Nah. We’re helping with the search tomorrow, since we’re in town and our fugitive could be involved.” He turned to Sun. “See you then?”

  “Sure. Sleep well.”

  He started to leave, but just couldn’t do it. He turned back to her. “I gotta know.”

  She grinned. “I looked past him and asked him if he didn’t know Sherry Berkley, why did he have her underwear hanging from his mirror.”

  He chuckled, waved to Fields, and took off.

  “That sounded interesting,” Fields said when Deleon was out of earshot.

  “Not really.” She returned to the diary.

  “Good job today.”

  She stopped reading, this time to admire the sharp angles and steely gray eyes of the almost-silver fox in front of her.

  He poured two fingers into each glass.

  “Yeah,” Sun said, wary again, “no offense, but that stuff is 100 proof. If I drank that much, you’d have to carry me home.”

  The humorous grin that spread across his face stopped her heart. For a few seconds, anyway. “That can be arranged.”

  “And what did I do that was so special? Besides get run down by a Mercedes, that is. And get threatened by a mayor who hates me. And eat muffins I’m pretty sure were cursed.”

  “Well, you found several pertinent clues in a missing persons case. You managed to figure out we are being toyed with by someone who knows what he’s doing, thus you came up with a basic profile of our suspect. And you believed a girl who wrote a letter predicting her own death when no one else would’ve given it a second thought, which either makes you a genius detective or just as loopy as the girl.”

  “Since you put it that way.” She took the glass, clinked it against his, and took a cautious sip. Then promptly coughed into her hand, and said in a strained voice, “That’s … really smooth.”

  He chuckled and sat in the chair Deleon had warmed.

  “Oh, I forgot. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but there’s a bona fide moonshine named after you.”

  She scoffed lightly. “I’ve heard. But I have to disagree.”

  “Okay, but it’s hard to deny it.” He turned the bottle until she could read the label. It was definitely one of Levi’s. It had the Dark River Shine logo, a skeleton cleverly disguised in the clouds of a New Mexico landscape, but the name of that particular recipe was called Sun Shine by Dark River.

  She sat bewildered for a few seconds, then laughed it off. “Not likely. The guy who started the company is not a fan.”

  Fields watched her for a minute, then said, “That’s not what I hear.”

  It took everything in her, every ounce of strength she possessed, not to jump over her desk, grab him by the collar, and beat more information out of him.

  First off, it would’ve been horridly unprofessional. Second, getting her hopes up only to have them crushed by the devastating realization that Levi did, in fact, despise her would be just a bit much to bear at that moment. She’d had a rough day.

  But if she were honest, she’d been glued to her phone, hoping he would use the number she’d written on the note she put on his truck and call. To tell her he’d found Jimmy, yes, but it was more than that, and she knew it.

  “Okay,” he said, downing the last of his drink, “I’m going to take off.”

  She raised a brow. “On foot, I hope.”

  “Absolutely.”

  She put the lid on the bottle and handed it to him.

  He held up a hand. “You keep it.”

  “Oh no, that’s—”

  “No, I insist. But look a little closer at the label.”

  When he left, she turned the bottle into the light, not really sure what he was talking about. Then she saw it. A face. A profile, actually, of a blond woman, her hair covering most of her face as she smiled.

  The image was so transparent as to almost be nonexistent. Yet it was there. And she recognized it. Rightfully so, since it was an image of her.

  Quincy had taken the photograph in high school as part of an art project called Friends. He’d put it in a collage but then drew the collage on watercolor board and painted it, and it won a blue ribbon at the state fair. Soon after, however, the actual collage from which he’d created it went missing.

  Sun ran her fingers over the image. It was like she was a ghost. Is that how he felt about her? A ghost from his past? Not that they’d ever really had one, but …

  Either way, the use of that image was illegal on several levels and employed with a callous disregard for her privacy and mental well-being.

  She loved it.

  She grabbed her cell and looked up the number of an old flame. Well, an old flame in her eyes. She’d been in love with him since she was ten. But since he was married at the time, and the sheriff of Del Sol, any relationship with her would’ve been frowned upon. And resulted in prison time.

  “Hey, handsome,” she said.

  He let out a loud sigh. “I knew you’d hunt me down eventually, gorgeous, but on your first day?”

  Royce Womack was a burly biker in his sixties who’d run this town with an iron fist and a deep laugh. He was sheriff for decades until he retired and a man named Herbert Kornel took over the post, much to Royce’s dismay. He currently spent his days running an incredibly successful, all things considered, rehab center called RISE.

  Sun had fallen in love with him the first time she’d met him, probably because he’d pulled her out of the lake after she’d decided to swallow half of it. There was something about a man saving her life. Carrying her to the banks in his arms. Pumping her stomach until twelve gallons of water came out. It left an impression.

  And he was there when she woke up in the hospital seven years later, even though it was well out of his jurisdiction. He’d held her when she cried. For three hours.

  “I know. I know,” she said. “But it’s been a busy day.”

  “It’s okay. Happens every time.”

  “Oh yeah? What happens every time?”

  Sun could tell by the tone of his voice he was about to hand her an overflowing load of BS. “Every time a hot, young sheriff blows into town, digs in her heels, and swears to clean up the place, she falls in love with me. Every damn time.”

  She didn’t even try to fight the grin that commandeered her face. “And how many hot, young sheriffs blow into town? You know, ballpark.”

  “Thus far, just the one, but that one proves my point. One hot, young sheriff blew into town, and one hot, young sheriff fell in love with me. It was inevitable, I guess. Numbers don’t lie.”

  She nodded, keeping her eyes on the bottle of moonshine in front of her. “You might want to read this little book called How to Lie with Statistics. Numbers, my friend, do lie. And the fact that you find me hot is a little disturbing.”

  “And just who the hell said I was talking about you?”

  “You were talking about Redding?”

  “Hell no.” He made a blubbery sound as though he were trying to shake off the image. “I was talking about the sheriff before him. What was that guy’s name? Little fellow with glasses and a deviated septum.”

  Ah, Kornel, a man who was older than dirt, straight as an arrow, and about as hot as the green chile crop that year. Too much rain. Ruined the promise of a good autumn roast. “Why, Royce. I had no idea you two were a thing.”

  “That’s what you get for thinking.”

  “I was wondering if maybe you could help me with something.”

  “Isn’t wondering a form of thinking?”

  “Darlen
e Tapia might have a fugitive in her house,” Sun said, ignoring his implication. “Can you find out if she does? And if so, can you keep an eye on her? Find out if he’s threatening her or just hanging out, eating her chips, and watching Jeopardy!?”

  “Why not put your boy on it?”

  He’d always called Quincy her boy. “Because Darlene knows Quincy. I don’t want her suspecting we’re watching her, and you’re the stealthiest guy I’ve ever met. Stealth isn’t really Quincy’s strong suit.”

  He laughed. “You’ll know by tomorrow morning.”

  “Thank you so much, Royce.”

  “You got it, Sunny Girl. Anything else you need since it’s thirty below and I have nothing better to do than babysit a noob coming down off fentanyl?”

  “Yes. I’ve had a bad day. Can I come live at the rehab with you?”

  “You are aware that this is a men’s rehab?”

  “My favorite kind.”

  He laughed, the sound deep and smooth.

  She drew in a breath and reveled in the sound. “I love you.”

  “See? You keep proving my point.”

  “Let me know what you find out.”

  “I love you, too. Always have, Sunny Girl.”

  She was just about to hang up when she asked, “Wait, did you vote for me?”

  “Hell no. I voted for Phillip Usury.”

  “Didn’t he die last year?”

  “Ah, that’s probably why he didn’t win.”

  “Oh, wait again!”

  “Keeping me on the phone. Are you tracing this call?”

  “Do you know what’s up with Bo Britton?”

  “Who?”

  Really? “Lieutenant Bobby Britton? Of the Del Sol Sheriff’s Posse? Has worked here for almost twenty years? Was the best man at your second and third weddings?”

  “Oh, Bo! Twenty years, huh? I bet he can retire soon.”

  “I’m sure he can if he so chooses, but I have yet to see him. Do you know where he is?”

  “Who?”

  It was a conspiracy.

  Sun welded her teeth together. Though she did hang up feeling much better about herself than she had five minutes earlier. But she really needed to find Bo.

  14

  Autocorrect has become our own worst enema.

  —SIGN AT DEL SOL CELLULAR

  As Zee and Price went through the footage from the Quick-Mart, Sun decided to call Auri to check in. It took her a few rings to pick up.

  “Hey, bug bite. Are you at Grandma’s?”

  “No, I’m at a friend’s house doing a homework assignment. We have to interview each other.”

  “Oh, okay. Do they know who it is?”

  “Yeah, Grandpa brought me over. He knows his dad.”

  “His?” Sun asked, suddenly very interested.

  Auri giggled. “He’s just a friend. We have English together and got assigned the project.”

  “I see. Well, are you okay to get home?”

  “Yep. His dad is going to take me, or Grandpa is going to come back.”

  “The roads are about to get bad again. You might want to wrap that up.”

  “Okay. We’re almost finished. I just asked him the last question about what he wants to do after graduation. How do you spell gigolo?”

  Sun snorted. “You’re funny. I need you to sleep at Grandma’s, okay? I don’t know what time I’m going to be back.”

  “Okay.”

  Thankfully, the kid still had her own room there. A fact Sun knew would come in handy at some point, just not this early in the game.

  “Love you, bug. Sleep well.”

  “Love you, too, Mom.”

  With Auri taken care of for the night and Zee and Price going over the footage, Sun decided she couldn’t wait any longer. She had to check on Levi. See if he found any sign of Jimmy. Or Sybil, for that matter.

  She drove out to the search area just as the snow started falling. Levi’s truck was still in the same place, her note still on the windshield. They were probably camping on the mountain instead of coming all the way down.

  It was freezing. She should have been doing exactly what Levi was doing. She should’ve been out there, on that mountain, searching for Hailey’s son, blizzard or no blizzard. Instead, she sat in a warm cruiser with heated seats and ambient lighting.

  Guilt assaulted her fast and hard. Oh yeah. She was going to make a great sheriff.

  Despite her inability to do anything even remotely resembling productive, she stayed put, waiting and hoping Levi and his cousin would come back with Jimmy. And even Sybil. The winds howled, and sleet pelted the truck from all directions.

  It was no wonder. The forecasters had predicted this was going to be the worst storm the county had seen in a decade.

  Sun kept the cruiser on for a while but ended up turning it off to save gas. And she waited, mulling over her day. Only one word seemed to sum it up and tie a nice bow on top: clusterfuck.

  Or was that two words?

  She huddled inside her coat to stay warm, and her lids grew heavy. Before she knew it, the digital clock read 1:00 a.m. She needed to get home, but hope won out again. She watched the mountain like a mama bear watches her cubs, looking for any sign of them, until her lids staged a rebellion and refused to cooperate any longer.

  * * *

  Slowly freezing to death, Sun tried to climb out of a snowdrift in the wake of an avalanche. Wind whipped around her, and she wondered how she’d gotten there. How she’d been buried neck deep in ice and snow. But she couldn’t remember getting out of the SUV. Or the avalanche cascading down the mountain. Or the gentle crackling of water as it solidified into an ice block around her body.

  Before Sun could open her eyes and make sense of her surroundings, a loud crash jerked her awake. She bolted upright and looked around, trying to figure out how she’d gotten back in her cruiser.

  She turned to her left and saw someone short and stocky standing at her window, wearing coveralls, a face mask, and goggles. He lifted gloved hands and motioned for her to roll down her window. She shook her head. Then another sound caught her attention. Someone was at her passenger window, but this guy she recognized. Somehow, through all the layers and survival gear, she recognized him.

  Levi Ravinder motioned for her to open the door. He also wore a face mask and goggles, but he looked far less ridiculous than his cousin for some reason.

  He opened the door, and Sun realized the rocking in her dream had been caused by the wind rocking her cruiser. Levi climbed inside and closed the door with some effort before removing his face mask and lifting his goggles to the top of his head.

  “You’re turning blue,” he said, breathing hard. He tossed her a blanket. “It’s as cold in here as it is out there.”

  She jutted out her chin, the one underneath her chattering teeth. “I look great in blue.” Even with all her bravado, she shook out the blanket and wrapped it around her.

  “Right.” He motioned for his cousin, who was still standing outside her window, to get to the truck. He gave a thumbs-up, then did as ordered, stumbling twice before he managed to get inside the massive vehicle.

  Sun leaned forward, turned on the cruiser, and amped up the heat. Then the reason she was there hit her, and she gasped, wide-eyed, and asked, “Did you find him?”

  Levi shook his head, his disappointment evident in the set of his shoulders.

  “Oh, my god, Hailey must be sick with worry.”

  The ice in his hair had started to melt. He wiped moisture off his face with a large hand, the act so everyday and yet so sensual. “Since when do you care about Hailey?”

  “Since never.” God, she was going to make such a great sheriff. “Of course I care about her; I just don’t think she cares much for me.”

  They’d sworn a pact to keep up the pretense no matter what, but she did want to tell him that she cared very much for his little sister. That she had grown to love the woman. A woman who, like Levi, grew up in a horribly broken home.r />
  But she didn’t dare. Doing so could put Hailey in danger, as well as Jimmy and Levi.

  “You’ll be able to leave in a few minutes. We called out the crew to clear the road to town.”

  “You can do that?”

  “When it’s your crew, yeah.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “We’re going back to the house to change again and get back out there. There’s a trail where we can take our ATVs up.”

  “Levi, does he know what to do? How to survive?”

  “Yes.” He bit down and looked out the window. “I’m just worried he panicked and went too far into the forest. He knows how to make a shelter and start a fire, but this is more than even most experienced hunters could manage.”

  She tried to swallow the turmoil wreaking havoc on her chest. “Can I go out with you?”

  He studied her a moment, a long, tense moment, then shook his head. “You’d only slow us down.”

  Sun didn’t take offense. He was right. He knew this area and knew how to cover it quickly. If he had to watch out for her while doing it …

  It was the first time she’d ever truly been alone with him, and the circumstances were the worst kind imaginable. But it was nice to hear his voice.

  “I wish I could do something.”

  “You can. Go home so I don’t have to worry about finding a Sunshine Popsicle on my next pass.”

  “Okay, but I’m leaving under duress and against my better judgment.”

  “Yeah, well, your judgment was never that great.”

  What was that supposed to mean? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  If perfection manifested into human form, it would look exactly like the man sitting in her passenger’s seat. The one with the annoyed look on his face. “What it means, Vicram, is go home.” He said her name like it was something he would spit out if he were starving.

  Before she could argue the point again—and take up more of his precious time—he climbed down from her cruiser and slammed the door. Then he pointed, telling her to lock it.

  She obeyed almost faster than his cousin had. There was something about the way he gave an order. She felt that ignoring it would be risky.

  But he hadn’t replaced his face mask and goggles. She waited and watched as he trod back to his truck, his hair whipping about his head, until he was safely inside. Then she released the breath she’d been holding.

 

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