A Good Day for Chardonnay

by Darynda Jones

  “Take him on a romantic getaway.”

  After she ran out on him without an explanation? Not likely. “I’ve just had three violent attacks in my town. Well, one was in a mine. And multiple stabbings. Not to mention all the dead bodies.” Her gaze slid past him. “So many dead bodies.” She bounced back. “I can’t leave.”

  “Then you have only one option left.” He lifted a brow. “But he’s not going to like it.”

  “He’s been lying to me for the last fifteen years. Let’s hear it.”

  After she and Wynn came up with a plan to keep his nephew safe, she offered him her best grave expression. “Who was his partner?” she asked, worried it really was Wynn. “Now that I know how my daughter came about.”

  He tilted his head in a sheepish shrug. “There was never a partner. It was all Kubrick.”

  She nodded, then knocked on the door.

  The CO stepped aside and Quincy came into view. Brows drawn in a severe line. Arms crossed over his chest.

  The door didn’t have a window like the one in Arizona. He couldn’t see inside the room, so he stood on the other side, a tad on edge if his expression were any indication.

  “You okay?” he asked, peering past her to the inmate at her back.

  But she was more than okay. Her world had just changed. She tackled him, throwing her arms around his neck.

  “Okay, then,” he said, patting her back and, Sun was certain, questioning Wynn from over her shoulder.

  “Right this way,” the CO said to them, ready to lead them out.

  She let go of Quince and threw her arms around the guard’s neck, too. He let her, though he didn’t hug back so much as pat the top of her shoulder. Gingerly.

  She was so happy. Mostly because he didn’t tase her.

  She stood back and scanned the area to see how much of a fool she was making of herself. The large room had several tables, and a handful of COs and administrators looked on, witnesses if the guard decided to file a sexual harassment lawsuit. A few inmates were there as well, one doing paperwork and one cleaning the tables. Probably a trustee who had earned the right to help in other areas of the prison.

  As one of the officials came forward, determined to put a stop to whatever was going on, Quincy stepped in front of him and held up a hand, politely requesting a moment.

  She turned and pushed her luck as far as she possibly could by giving Wynn another quick hug, then she faced the wrath of Quincy.

  “We have to go save the dark lord’s life,” she said, utilizing Hailey’s pet name for her brother. She gave Quincy a warning lift of her left brow. “He’s going to be very, very angry.”

  * * *

  Auri could hardly blame him for breaking out. Cruz. He escaped from Presbyterian Hospital a few hours after they released her. It also happened to be the day before his father’s birthday.

  “I can’t let him spend his birthday in that box,” he’d said when they were lying in bed, which sounded worse than it was. She was already dressed in clothes her grandma had brought for the trip home.

  Her mom was signing the discharge papers while her grandparents gathered her things. The nurse had brought a cart to take all the flowers to the car. Her room had been filled with them. Cruz’s room was empty. Not a single vase or potted plant and only one get-well card her grandparents had bought and had everyone sign.

  Auri forced it out of her mind. The town loved him. She knew that. But did they understand what he’d done? How he’d saved her life? How he’d saved Mrs. Fairborn’s?

  They lay nose-to-nose, his handsome face and previously ashen pallor back to normal. And yet the sadness that consumed him was like an anvil on her chest, cutting off her air supply.

  “My dad hated confined spaces,” he said, his eyes glistening with tears he refused to shed.

  “And now he’s in a cardboard box.” He bit out the words from between a clenched jaw. “Like his life didn’t matter. Like all he was worth was a piece of corrugated paper.”

  She’d cupped his cheek. “Cruz, no one believes that. Everyone loved your father.”

  How he had kept his father’s death a secret still boggled Auri’s mind. He’d been working nights on the cars that were in his dad’s shop before he died, then he would have people pick them up, telling them his dad was running errands. He’d be right back if they wanted to wait.

  They never did.

  The authorities still didn’t know what to do with Cruz. His nonbiological grandfather was coming from Riley’s Switch the next day. When Auri thought about it, she panicked. The thought of him moving killed her.

  “I’ll never see you again,” he’d told Auri.

  “Of course, you will,” she lied. She knew how these things worked. She’d watched her mother pine after Levi for years. Now they’re back and her mom and Levi still hadn’t hooked up. Sometimes it didn’t matter how much you loved someone. “Besides, you may not want to see me after this.”

  He inched back to get a better look at her. “Why would you say that?”

  She bit her lip, and admitted, “My head.”

  “Your what?”

  “It’s lopsided.”

  “It’s what?”

  “My head is lopsided.”

  “That’s so weird,” he said, astonished. “I love lopsided heads.”

  “Really?”

  He took her hand into his. “Really.” He looked down and uncurled her fingers to see the necklace she had clasped in them. “What do you think of this?”

  “That’s just it. I don’t know what to think. I’ve tried to look for engravings or markings, but there’s nothing.”

  He took it from her, and said with a teasing grin, “Let me look.”

  “Okay, but there’s simply nothing unusual about it.”

  He studied it closely as she studied him. What she wouldn’t do for his eyelashes. “My dad was super into this stuff.”

  “What stuff?”

  “Clocks and watches. He loved the mechanics and detail.”

  “Like in the carving?”

  “Exactly.” He showed her a part of the woman’s hair where a ribbon held it back. “Look closely around the edges of that bow.”

  She did. “It seems a little more indented than the other lines. Deeper.”

  “Because it is.” He pushed on the bow, but nothing happened. “I need something sharp.”

  “I used to be sharp,” she said sadly.

  He laughed.

  “Oh! How about this?” She brought a tongue depressor out of the pocket of her sweater.

  “Do I want to know why you have that?”

  “It’s grape flavored.”

  “Ah.” He broke it to create a point and pressed it onto the bow. “This might work.”

  “What’s it supposed to do exactly?” She imagined a music box inside the brass setting that played when someone pressed the button, but when he said, “This,” and held it out to her, she sucked in a soft breath of air.

  The cameo clicked and swung open to reveal a secret chamber. “No way.”

  “Way,” he said, just as astonished. He tried to sit up but gave up with a wince.

  “Here.” She took it and brought out an aged piece of paper.

  “What is it?”

  She unfolded it carefully and screwed up her face. “It’s … mineral rights?”

  “Okay,” he said, just as confused.

  Her mother walked in with a smile. “Hey, you two.”

  “Mom, look!” She handed the paper to her mother. “I knew it. I knew there was more to that necklace. Mrs. Fairborn knew, too. But Cruz figured it out! We have to tell Mrs. Fairborn.”

  Her mom took the paper and read it over. She was wearing her usual black uniform and had pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, holding locks of hair back that had come loose from her French braid. She was so pretty. Auri had always thought so, but she seemed to get prettier as she grew more and more elderly and decrepit.

  “Auri, this is big,”
her mom said.

  “Really?”

  “Didn’t you say Emily was a poor relation of the Press family?”

  “Yes. A cousin. The family said that was why she stole the necklace.”

  “I don’t think so. Mrs. Fairborn said Emily’s grandmother left her that necklace in her will and, I’m assuming, what was inside. These are the mineral rights to the Press land in Texas.”

  “So, like, salt and stuff?” Cruz asked.

  “Not really. These refer specifically to fluid mineral rights.” She looked at them. “Guys, this means that Emily owned the oil rights to the Press land. Those oil wells make millions a year. Clearly, her side of the family never knew.”

  “Does this mean they’re rich?”

  “It could. And this is definitely worth killing over to keep secret.”

  “Billy was never after the necklace,” Cruz said.

  “But what was inside,” Auri finished.

  “Good work, guys. I can’t wait to dig deeper into this.”

  “Me too. I found out Emily had a little brother but, again, they were very poor. I can’t find anything else about him.”

  Her mom beamed at her. “We’ll find them, bug. We’ll make sure this gets into the right hands. How are you guys doing?” She asked them both but she looked at Cruz.

  He seemed to withdraw again. “I’m feeling better, thank you, Sheriff.”

  “I’m so glad. Quincy will be here later today.”

  He let go of Auri’s hand and turned toward her mom. “It’s okay. He doesn’t have to come.”

  “Cruz,” she admonished. “You’re part of our family. He’ll be here. We’re going to figure this out.”

  He nodded, clearly unconvinced.

  “I’ll be back later, too. We’ll talk about it then. You ready, bug?”

  A pang of anxiety cramped her stomach. She leaned over and kissed his cheek before letting her mother lead her out. She missed him the minute she got to the elevator.

  They had pizza and cake at home, and she was in the middle of begging her mom to let her go back with her when the phone rang.

  “He did what?” her mom asked. “Okay. Okay, we’ll be on the lookout here.” When she hung up, she gave Auri her best mom look.

  “What’d I do?” she asked. “I had a submissive hemogoblin. It’s not my fault.”

  “Cruz escaped.”

  She stood and the floor spun but only a little. “Mom, we have to find him. He got stabbed.”

  “Yes, bug, I remember. Did he tell you he was going to leave?”

  “No.” She thought back and guilt washed over her. “But I think I know where he’s going.”

  * * *

  “Be careful,” her mom said an hour later as they hiked up the Bear Hollow Trail to Rosita Peak. It wasn’t far, but they knew he was there. Her mom’s friend, Royce Womack, had driven out and checked as her deputies checked Cruz’s house and a couple other possibilities. His dad’s truck was parked at the trailhead.

  “Did he tell you he was coming here?” her mom asked.

  “No. But his mom’s ashes were spread here.” She fought the trembling her chin. “If he pulled any stitches, I swear, Mom, I’m going to kill him.”

  “I know. He’s hurting, baby.”

  Tears welled in her eyes again. Every time she thought about what Cruz was going through, how alone in the world he was, her chest hurt and the waterworks started again.

  “I’m sorry.” Sun squeezed the hand she was holding to keep Auri steady. “I know you understand.”

  “I can’t fully, but I can imagine.”

  “Even with your submissive hemogoblin?”

  She drew in a deep breath. “I’m saying it wrong, aren’t I?”

  “Not at all.” She cast a sideways glance to Auri’s other escort up the trail, Quincy Cooper. She was definitely saying it wrong.

  “How did he get his dad’s truck?” she asked, dropping the whole thing but vowing to research submissive hemogoblins later. “How did he even get back to Del Sol from Albuquerque?”

  “Uber.”

  “Wow.”

  “Apparently, he was determined,” Quincy said. He took out a flashlight and lit the way. The sun was going down quick.

  Her grandparents came up behind them then. “Grandma, Grandpa, what are you guys doing here?” Cruz must’ve been in more trouble than she thought if her grandparents were getting involved.

  “We’re here for you and Cruz, peanut,” her grandpa said.

  “Here for us?”

  Before they could explain, they crested Rosita Peak and Auri saw the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen. Cruz standing on a massive rock formation with the sun setting just beyond. He was silhouetted by the bright pinks and oranges splashed across the sky.

  “Cruz!” Auri said. She tried to run to him, but Quincy held her back.

  Her mom eased forward. “Cruz, honey, how about you step away from that ledge?”

  Auri hadn’t even considered that. Her heart leapt into her throat when she realized how close he was. He wore old jeans and a loose T-shirt and he was shivering. He was shivering and wounded and in pain and Auri’s heart shattered.

  He turned back and looked over his shoulder. “He can’t spend his birthday in a box.”

  “Cruz,” Auri said, fighting Quincy.

  “Can we come up?” her mom asked.

  He lifted a shoulder and nodded.

  Her mom gave Quincy the go-ahead and they climbed the rocks together. A few feet in front of him was a chain-link barrier no more than four feet high. If he were going to jump, he would have to climb over it first.

  Auri put her arm on his shoulder. He held the box in both hands as if it were a precious thing. His cheeks were wet and dirty and his hair mussed. He just seemed so lost.

  Her mom stood on the other side of her and Quincy on the other side of Cruz.

  Cruz held out his elbow like he wanted her to wrap her arm in his, so she did. The lump in her throat grew bigger as he opened the box and gave his dad to the wind. He fought for control as a sob racked his body. Quincy wiped his eyes with one hand and she could hear her grandma weeping softly below them.

  He put the lid on the box and reached into his jeans. “I did what you said. I wrote a poem.”

  “Cruz, he would’ve loved that.”

  But he handed her the folded piece of paper. “Would you mind?”

  Did he want her to read it aloud? She stood confused until he stepped out of her embrace and eased closer to the barrier. She realized what he was doing.

  She opened the paper and, with the help of Quincy’s flashlight, read the first line as Cruz signed it almost bashfully for his dad.

  “If you can hear now, Dad, don’t let it worry you.” Her voice broke, but she continued. “The sound of happiness is summer rain as it falls on the porch. The sound of joy is the pop and hiss of a soda can opening. The sound of excitement is paper crumpling on Christmas morning.”

  His signing wasn’t dramatic or sensational or boisterous. It just was. It was his message to his dad. A private thing made public, but still a private thing.

  “The sound of serenity,” she continued through her constricted throat, “is an ocean wave rushing onto sand. The sound of sorrow is a sparrow singing to her lost mate. The sound of regret because things were left unsaid is thunder rumbling in the distance. It’s half-spoken words. And sometimes it’s no sound at all. But the sound of love is the loudest. It’s the sound of my heartbeat every time I think of you.”

  Auri had to stop and catch her breath. Her mom sniffed beside her and rubbed her back. Cruz waited, his head down, for her to finish.

  “If you can hear now, Dad, I hope you hear me talk to you sometimes and I hope you like my voice, because if you can hear now, Dad, my voice will be all of those things, and everything else you ever taught me. Thank you.”

  He signed, thank you, looking at the ground because he could hardly stand on his own anymore. Quincy rushed forward and wr
apped an arm around him to take his weight as, one by one, lights started flickering in the mountains around them.

  Auri watched and realized they were candles being lit in the distance. And then closer, down the mountain around them, a curtain of glimmering lights, casting a soft glow.

  “Cruz,” she said, pointing.

  He wiped his eyes and looked out over the canyon at the hundreds of candles being lit in honor of his father. He took her hand and began sobbing in earnest on Quincy’s shoulder. Quincy hugged him and cried, too. They pulled her mom into their huddle, then Quincy lifted Cruz into his arms.

  “I can walk,” he said in protest, though it was a weak one.

  Quincy shook his head. “I gotcha, kid.”

  Her mom led them down the trail with the flashlight as Auri took one last look into the canyon. Levi stood a little farther down. He looked up at her, smiled sadly, then turned and headed back to his truck.

  Quincy took Cruz to his house to grab his things, the basic necessities, insisting he stay with him. Auri’s mom promised to sort it out, telling him he could stay with Quincy as long as he could put up with a man with a bacon tattoo.

  “Hailey has offered her home, too,” Quincy said. “If you would feel more comfortable there. To be honest, half the town has offered. You can pretty much take your pick of places to crash.”

  That seemed to surprise her mom, but she nodded. It would make sense for Cruz to stay with Hailey. They certainly had the room, and she had Jimmy. Either way, Cruz wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  31

  If that annoying knock is coming

  from the motor and not the trunk,

  stop by for a free checkup.

  —SIGN AT GARY’S GARAGE

  She rode with Deputy Tricia Salazar on the way to the Ravinder compound. The young deputy seemed nervous, and Sun couldn’t imagine why.

  “Everything okay, Salazar?”

  “Of course,” she said, a little too quickly. She had the chubbiest cheeks Sun had ever seen. And the biggest eyes. That combination made people underestimate her. Question her intelligence, which Sun had learned firsthand was a mistake. “Absolutely.”

  “But?” Sun asked.