A Good Day for Chardonnay

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A Good Day for Chardonnay Page 25

by Darynda Jones


  Auri scoffed. “Please. If I play chicken, it’s not going to be with a boy named Snake. That’s a horrible name for a car guy. His name will be Flash or Rocket or NOS-feratu. Get it? N-O-S-feratu?”

  Her grandma smiled, but Auri could see the worry behind it. “You know you can talk to us about anything, right?”

  “I know, Grandma. And I do have a question.”

  “Oh.” She scooted farther onto the bed. “Ask away, peanut.”

  “Let’s say that there is a sweet little old lady in town who used to be a, oh, I don’t know, a serial killer of sorts.”

  Her grandma nodded her head in thought, playing along.

  “And let’s say, hypothetically, that she hasn’t killed anyone in years.”

  “Okay, I’m with you.”

  “And everyone in town likes her.”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “And she’s a little crazy but not in a dangerous way.”

  She stifled a grin. “Got it.”

  “It’s just, would it matter if she were brought to justice? I mean, she doesn’t have that much longer to live, right? So, would her going to prison for the rest of her life change anything?”

  Her grandma sat back, her head bowed in thought. “I see where you’re going with this.”

  “I was so dead set on bringing a serial killer to justice, I didn’t even think about Mrs.—the woman in question. I mean, from what I can tell, she doesn’t have a cruel bone in her body. If anything, she’s too generous. And then Mom said that serial killers rarely stop of their own accord. Something or someone stops them.” She hugged her pillow to her and sat back in frustration. “Maybe I’m wrong, Grandma. But I’m not.” She pleaded with her. “I have irrefutable evidence.”

  “What kind of evidence?” she asked, suspiciously.

  “I mean, I don’t have it have it,” she said, her voice rising a notch in panic. “I just know about it.”

  “I see. Well, could it have been anyone else? Perhaps another family member?”

  “I thought of that, too, but she only had her husband and he went missing before the cases stopped. There was one more victim after his disappearance, the very man the police suspected did it, so her husband couldn’t have done it. And Hercules Holmes was accused of murder and possibly killed because of one person’s actions. Shouldn’t his name be cleared? Shouldn’t his family know that he wasn’t a killer? That he was innocent?”

  Her grandma drew in a deep breath and pressed a hand to Auri’s chest. “I think all the answers you’re searching for are in here, peanut.”

  “In my boobies?”

  “Your heart, baby.”

  Auri deflated. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

  She laughed softly. “So, how many pieces?”

  “Three.” When the woman questioned her with a single skilled glance, she said, “Four.” Her grandma got up to leave and was out the door when she shouted, “And a half!”

  Her grandmother’s laugh filtered toward her as Auri tapped the screen on her phone. She texted her mom to see how the case was going since her cruiser was already gone. She must’ve left super early.

  She was just about to hop in the shower when a thought hit her. She sank back onto her bed and chewed on an already abused nail. What if there was a way to get the necklace back to Billy Press without getting Mrs. Fairborn thrown into prison? The woman couldn’t go to jail. How would she ever learn to make a shiv out of her toothbrush if she didn’t have any teeth left? How would she protect herself?

  The answer was so simple. All Auri had to do was break the chain of custody. She would steal the necklace and tell her mom that she’d taken it when they first broke into Mrs. Fairborn’s house, a lie that would never hold up in court. And if Mrs. Fairborn had a good lawyer, the necklace would never even be allowed in evidence, because Auri could’ve gotten it from a shack in Timbuktu for all anyone knew.

  That settled it.

  She went about making plans for the evening. One more time, then she’d never sneak out again. She had to get the necklace. Maybe Mrs. Fairborn wouldn’t even notice it missing. Auri could return it to Billy Press and everyone would be happy.

  She decided to call Billy and tell him her plan. If all went well, his family could have that necklace back in the next few weeks. She called him using video chat on Instagram.

  He picked up immediately, but his screen was black. “Aurora?” he said.

  “Yes. Is this Billy?”

  “It is. Sorry about blank the screen. My camera is broken on my phone.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. I just wanted to let you know that the necklace is safe and I know where it is.”

  “I can’t believe this.” He laughed, incredulous. “You don’t know what this means to my family. We’ve wondered for so long what happened to Emily.”

  Unfortunately, she couldn’t tell him the truth on that front. She would have to tread carefully, but he needed know the case would be solved. Just maybe not any time soon. “I’ve been looking into all the cases.”

  “All the cases?”

  “Yes. Several people went missing from the area. Mostly travelers who stayed at a particular boardinghouse in Del Sol.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “And I saw that necklace in what used to be the boardinghouse. I don’t want to get your hopes up about finding out what happened to your cousin, but I think the person who ran the boardinghouse may have been killing travelers for their personal possessions.”

  “A boardinghouse, huh? And it’s still there?”

  “Well, no. It’s not a boardinghouse anymore.”

  “Gotcha. But the necklace is inside the house now?”

  Her pulse sped up. “Um, yes. I’m going to get it. But my mom’s the sheriff.”

  “The sheriff?” he asked, seemingly alarmed.

  “Yes. I’m going to get the necklace and give it to my mom. I’ll tell her I found the necklace in the house and maybe they’ll reopen the case.” He didn’t need to know she would purposely botch the chain of custody in the process and hopefully keep Mrs. Fairborn out of jail. “We can finally find out what happened to your—”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t bring your mom into this.”

  She blinked, taken aback. “I’m sorry?”

  “I mean, you know how the law works. It could take years for my family to get back my cousin’s things.”

  “But I have to tell her. How else will we find out what happened to Emily? And to the other victims? The families have a right to know what happened to their loved ones. Also, I think an innocent man was killed because of this case. His family needs to know he was falsely accused.”

  “Right.” He laughed again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean you should keep it a secret. Of course, we want to know what happened to Emily. That’s our first priority.”

  “I’ll let you know when I get the necklace.”

  “Thank you, Aurora. I appreciate this so much. My family is going to be over the moon.”

  “You’re welcome.” She hung up feeling slightly elated. At the same time, she felt like she’d just betrayed Mrs. Fairborn. She didn’t know why. If the woman did kill those people, it was her own fault. And if she didn’t, she had nothing to worry about. But what if her plan backfired and Mrs. Fairborn really did go to prison? Auri would just have to figure out a way to smuggle in a shiv.

  20

  Do you love your job? No.

  But does it afford you the ability to go on lavish

  vacations and buy anything you want? Also no.

  And that’s where we can help!

  Stop in for a free portfolio consultation

  and get 10% off your first psychic reading.

  —SIGN AT DEL SOL BROKERAGE AND PSYCHIC READINGS

  Sun and Levi didn’t wait for backup. The minute the bright yellow orb crested the horizon, they headed out. They’d parked in a valley at the base of the Sangre de Cristos. It was going to be a long hike up to the mine.

  They grabbed wat
er and power bars from her emergency stash along with various supplies and a first-aid kit. Sun insisted on wearing the backpack, since she hadn’t been hit by a truck as recently as he had, but he practically ripped it out of her hands and slid it over his shoulders despite her protests.

  Men. Especially men who picked fights with Toyota Tundras.

  “Thank you,” Sun said, as they walked an overgrown trail.

  “For?”

  “I’m not sure I would’ve realized Elliot meant to write Sawry, as in the Sawry Silver Mine, without your prompting.”

  “You figured it out before I did, and without knowing how much Eli loves that mine.”

  “He loves the mine?”

  “Seabright mentioned it a couple years ago.”

  “Either way, thank you.”

  He looked down at her, the trail wide enough at that point for them to walk side by side through the brush, and the appreciation she saw in his eyes went straight to her head. And other parts of her body. Like a margarita might. Or a hit of acid. Not that she’d ever done acid. Much.

  She turned back to the trail. There was a time they could’ve gotten a vehicle up to the mine. It would’ve been rough, but it could’ve happened. Disuse and overgrowth put a stop to that, and while the mine had been boarded up for decades, kids still managed to find a way in. It rarely ended well.

  Quincy and the gang were bringing ATVs, but the overgrowth would slow even those down, and Sun didn’t want to wait.

  “I don’t care how much Elliot loves that mine, it’s dangerous. And now he has a seven-year-old with him.”

  “He knows it like the back of his hand. He trains in there with Seabright.”

  “But Adam doesn’t. And he’s only seven. The pit has a way of sneaking up on you.”

  The pit was a massive hole deep in the mine and impossible to see until you were falling into it. It dropped thirty feet and led to another level. More than one kid had fallen into it over the years, despite it being boarded up. When a middle-school boy died after falling in a few years back, Sun’s parents started a petition and tried to have it filled in with cement, but the city council dismissed it, arguing it would be impossible to get a cement truck up to the mine.

  Difficult, yes. But not impossible. And worth the added cost, in Sun’s opinion. She could hardly blame kids for their curiosity. She’d been one.

  “By the way,” Levi said after they’d been walking about forty minutes.

  She liked walking with him. And driving with him. And watching him drive. “Yes?”

  “We were followed.”

  She almost tripped but managed to keep her feet on solid ground. Staring straight ahead, she said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I wasn’t positive.”

  “But you are now?”

  He nodded.

  “It has to be the Delmar family,” she said. “There have been men stationed in town for a few days now. I’m certain they work for them. But they’re still after Elliot? After all this time? They have to know Matthew Kent doesn’t have the money.”

  He stayed silent for a long time, then said, “Revenge?”

  A shiver raced up her spine. “Not on my watch. How do you know they’re still following us?”

  “They’re keeping a watch with binoculars. Or a scope. The lens is reflecting in the trees off to the left.”

  “I’m thirsty,” Sun said, turning toward him. She motioned for him to turn around.

  He grinned down at her, his powerful frame like a mountain towering over her. When he didn’t move, she rolled her eyes dramatically and walked around him, playing her part and taking the opportunity he’d provided to scan the distant tree line. A single lens flare reflected the sun then disappeared.

  She fished a bottle of water out of the backpack and used the cover to depress the push-to-talk button on her mic clip.

  “Zee, you there?”

  “I’m here, boss.”

  “Your mom called. Your house is on fire. You need to go home immediately.”

  “Ten-four, boss. Thanks.”

  She reached down and turned the knob to change the channel from their standard to their tactical channel.

  Zee came on almost immediately. “How many?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “We’re coming up on your six,” Quincy said.

  “They left town early this morning,” Rojas said, turning off his ATV. “Something got their attention.”

  “What time was this?” Sun asked.

  “My guy at the front desk said they took off about three.”

  She glanced at Levi. “Right after Elliot took Adam?”

  “That can’t be a coincidence,” he said.

  “Sorry about this, guys. Hope you wore comfortable shoes.” They would have to abandon the ATVs for the time being, but at least they’d almost caught up to her and Levi.

  “Thank God I changed out of my heels,” Quincy said.

  She laughed softly and offered Levi the water bottle. “Signal when you have them in your sights. We’ll distract them.”

  Zee came back. “You got it, boss.”

  Levi took a few shallow sips before eyeing her with a mixture of humor and interest. “I don’t have any explosives on me.”

  After a pitying assessment, she tsked and said, “I thought all you Ravinder boys carried dynamite everywhere you went. How ever are we going to distract them now?”

  The breathtaking grin he flashed her implied he had a few ideas.

  She had to kickstart her heart to get it beating again. The things he could do to her with a single glance bordered on obscene. She looked around and sat on a fallen log, making the time-out sign with her hands. To an observer, it would look like she simply needed a break. Which she did. She hadn’t slept in what felt like days.

  He sat beside her and leaned against the tree behind them. Placing the backpack on the ground at their feet, he ferreted out a couple of power bars.

  She took one and said nonchalantly, “I can’t even imagine what my hair looks like at this point in my life.”

  “Hair has never been your strong suit,” he said, a teasing sparkle in his eyes.

  “Oh yeah? Well, brains have never been yours.”

  He chuckled and took a huge bite while she tried to come up with a legitimate distraction. Just something to keep their quarry’s eyes trained on them.

  “How about a fight?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Could work.”

  “Or,” she said, excited, “I could slip and break my leg!”

  “That might be hard to pull off.”

  “True.” She took another bite.

  Several minutes later, the radio clicked three times.

  “That was fast.”

  “You thirsty?” Levi asked her.

  She’d bent to stuff her wrapper into the backpack. When she straightened, she felt a firm hand wrap around the back of her skull. She looked up at him. He pulled her closer and lifted the bottle to her lips. The hard plastic of the rim pressed against them. Cool water filled her mouth.

  She tried to swallow but a memory consumed her. Her breath caught and she coughed, but only slightly.

  He lowered the bottle and licked his own lips as he studied hers. The image of her rescuer fifteen years ago, hood and shadows concealing his face, flashed in her mind. He held her the same way. An arm draped behind her back, supporting her. A large hand around her neck. The bottle at her lips, cool and wet against her hot mouth. A warmth spread throughout her body.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice whisper soft.

  “There are only two things that will keep their attention focused on us while your team overtakes them. Either we fight or fuck.”

  She swallowed hard. “You’re assuming they don’t have a sniper rifle pointed at our heads as we speak.”

  “They clearly want the kid. Why would they blow their lead?”

  “Fine. We fight.”

  His gaze traveled over her face
. “Chickenshit.”

  She thought about arguing with him, but he did have a point. Desire glistened in his eyes as he looked down at her. He was either an incredible actor, or he was not wasting the opportunity, either.

  “We should start fighting now,” she said, her voice breathier than she’d planned.

  “I’ll follow your lead.”

  After another moment of considering his alternate plan, imagining her lips brushing across his, she stood to face him instead and railed, “What do you mean my hair has never been my strong suit? What’s wrong with my hair?” She made a point to throw in some angry movements without exaggerating them too much. She had to sell it, not turn it into vaudeville.

  He eased back. Took her in. Then did indeed follow her lead. Yet, unlike her, he stayed true to his character by offering no reaction whatsoever other than the barest hint of a smirk. He gestured toward the subject of their argument, a.k.a. the weakest point of her entire being apparently, and said, “It’s just so blond.”

  She gaped at him. “It’s too blond?”

  “And nondescript.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “And anemic.”

  He’d really thought about this. “Can hair even be anemic?”

  “Apparently.”

  The humorous slant to his lips caused a momentary glitch in Sun’s synaptic firings. She mentally rebooted, and asked, “Just what do you suggest I do about it?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. You never wear it down so it’s hard to say.”

  She executed her best soap-opera spin and whirled away from him. It was a wonder Hollywood hadn’t come knocking. “For your information, I’m a law enforcement officer. French braids are generally safer than ponytails or even buns, so I braid it.” She spun back to him. “And you’re one to talk. What exactly do you call that disaster?” She gestured toward his head of thick, dark auburn hair, the same hair she’d give her left kidney just to run her fingers through, and guessed, “The sasquatch?”

  “Are you saying I need a trim?”

  She stopped short in front of him and leaned in until they were nose-to-nose. “I’m saying you need a trim.”

  This was the most ridiculous argument she’d ever had. She should’ve come up with something better to argue about than hair, but a part of her did wonder if he really felt that way. Clearly, she needed to deep condition more often. Maybe give it a light tease.

 

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