A Good Day for Chardonnay

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A Good Day for Chardonnay Page 39

by Darynda Jones


  She drove through the picturesque Sangre de Cristos with both hands on the wheel, gripping it perhaps a little too tight. “It’s just, well, I’m not on the schedule for next week.”

  “Yes, I know,” Sun said absently. Her stomach had been churning for hours thinking about their plan. Hers and Wynn’s. They’d spoken on the phone twice already. Whoever Wynn had on the inside only knew that Clay and Redding were making a move soon.

  Her life had turned into The Godfather when she wasn’t looking. Secret assassinations. Familial coups. Brother pitted against brother. And in the middle of it all, the real seat of power. The enigmatic nephew. Now Sun just had to save the man’s life without losing him forever.

  Salazar squared her shoulders, and asked, “Am I fired, boss?”

  Sun frowned at her. “Not that I know of, and since I’m the sheriff, I think I’d know.”

  “Oh.” That brought her motors to a full stop. She thought a moment, then asked, “Are you forcing me to use my vacation time? Because I don’t need it. I have paperwork piling up as we speak.”

  “Salazar, the day you have paperwork piling up will be the day I’m elected president of the Hair Club for Men.”

  “I meant after this. I’ll have, you know, paperwork.”

  “Ah.”

  “Did I do something wrong, boss?”

  Sun caved. She couldn’t torture her any longer. “Wrong? Not at all.” She reached over and lifted the mic off her radio. “This is Sheriff Vicram. I’d like to take this opportunity to announce the promotion of Deputy Tricia Salazar to lieutenant, the preferment to take place immediately if she accepts.” She glanced at the deputy whose eyes, unbelievably, got bigger. “You’ll need to take the test, which is why I scheduled you some free time to study. There’s one in two weeks.”

  She opened her mouth to talk but then just left it there. Open.

  “Deputy Salazar,” she continued into the mic, “do you accept this promotion and promise to serve it and the Del Sol County Sheriff’s Office to the best of your abilities?”

  She handed her the mic. After a moment, the young deputy depressed the talk button. “Thank you, Sheriff. I do.”

  Zee was the first to congratulate her, with a hearty, “Booyah, Salazar. Congrats.”

  “Booyah, Lieutenant,” Rojas said next. “Can I get a better parking spot?”

  Quincy came on next with, “What happened to radio silence?” Smart-ass. “Booyah, Salazar. I look forward to passing you the buck.”

  Sun took the mic. “You already pass the buck to her, Chief Deputy. That’s kind of like your thing.”

  “That’s a 10–4, Sheriff. Just making sure you were paying attention.”

  They were coming up Levi’s drive. “Showtime,” she said, to silence the troops. Then she looked at a young deputy in serious threat of going into shock. Or crying. It could go either way. “You good with this, Salazar?”

  She swallowed hard. “I am, boss. I’m—I’m honored. Thank you.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “The way you handled the situation with Mrs. Fairborn? You took charge and saved those kids’ lives. I’ve never been more impressed with an officer than I was with you. Nor more grateful.”

  Her chin trembled, and she said again, “Thank you, boss.”

  Sun nodded and drew in a deep breath as they pulled up to Levi’s front door. Showtime indeed.

  Surrounded by her troops, she steeled her nerves and knocked on the thick wooden door.

  Levi opened it armed with a dish towel and a faint yet dead-sexy smile. Her chest tightened as his gaze slid past her. It landed on the deputies in accompaniment and the smile faded.

  “Levant Ravinder?” she said, only a slight wobble in her voice.

  He pressed his mouth together and dropped his gaze to the towel.

  “You are under arrest for the murder of Kubrick Farwell Ravinder.”

  He dried his hands, then tossed the towel on a side table and let her lead them behind his back as she read him his rights, the width of his shoulders making the cuffs even more uncomfortable.

  “Do you understand these rights as I have said them to you?”

  He raised his chin a visible notch and kept his gaze locked straight ahead, refusing to look at her.

  Clay Ravinder, a stocky man with mousy brown hair and the kind of scruff that was more hillbilly than sexy, moseyed out like he owned the place. The place that Levi had built with his own two hands. Where Clay lived free of charge because they shared the same last name.

  “Knew that would catch up to you, boy,” he said to Levi, the level of gloating sickening to Sun. Not that she would expect any less. He picked up the dish towel Levi had discarded and pretended to dry his hands with it.

  Sun could see Clay’s mind working. Whatever he’d planned to do to take Levi out would have to wait, but clearly he didn’t mind. He saw this as an opportunity to seize control of the distillery, Sun had no doubt.

  Hailey rushed onto the porch as they led Levi away. She glared at Sun, her face twisting in anger. “You,” she said, and for a moment Sun didn’t know if she was acting or not. “He saved your life and this is how you repay him?”

  She charged forward, her nails protracted like a cat’s claws. Quincy grabbed her and held her back, but she fought him like a rabid banshee.

  Sun cast a worried glance to him. He was supposed to fill her in.

  He bit back a curse. “If you don’t calm down, ma’am, I will arrest you.”

  “You just try it.” She twisted and turned until Quincy had no choice but to drag her to his cruiser kicking and screaming. He and the officers loaded them both into the back of his SUV and watched as Clay closed the front door to the Ravinder estate softly behind them.

  Hailey continued to scream profanities. Levi stared straight ahead, reminding Sun of the calm before the storm.

  “How’d we do?” Quince asked her when she walked up to him.

  “That woman missed her calling.”

  He grinned. “She’s a firecracker.”

  Sun laughed, hiding her face in case Clay was watching.

  “And dare I say,” Quincy said, daring, “that the man sitting in the back of my cruiser is a tad miffed.”

  “You think?”

  “Maybe we should’ve, I don’t know, filled him in on the plan?”

  “He would never have gone along with it. He would’ve wanted to deal with Clay on his own. No telling how that would’ve ended up. Lest you forget, I’m trying to keep the man alive and out of prison. And. Not or.”

  “That’s not going to be easy. He’s even more stubborn than you are.”

  Ignoring his statement, Sun asked, “What about Jimmy?”

  “He’s with Auri and your parents. They’re meeting us at the cabin later.”

  “Good. I just need him safe.”

  “Yeah, about that, are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  Sun pressed her mouth to one side in a noncommittal shrug as she looked at the hard lines on the face of the man she loved more than a good bottle of chardonnay. And that was saying a lot. “Ask me tomorrow when he’s had time to cool off.”

  “Sunbeam,” he said, sucking air in through his teeth, “I don’t think there’s enough ice in the world that would have him cooled off by tomorrow, but you keep believing that.” He climbed into his car amidst a bombardment of language so colorful, her new lieutenant blushed. Then Quince winked at Sun. “Denial is a glorious thing.”

  It was. It really was.

  * * *

  By the time they got to the cabin, Levi had figured out it was a ploy, probably because Hailey calmed down and explained what was going on. According to Quincy, Levi didn’t seem to care.

  “If I only had one word to describe him,” Quincy said when Sun entered the rustic garage, “it would be homicidal.”

  Levi was still in the back seat. Still cuffed. Still livid by the hard set of his jaw.

  “You left him in there?” Sun had driven to the cabi
n at a slower pace and taken a few side roads to make sure they weren’t being followed.

  “I am not unlocking those cuffs until he calms down,” Quincy said.

  “You’re bigger than he is.”

  He snorted. “Yeah. Like that would matter.”

  He was right. Skill trumped body weight most of the time, and few were more skilled than the man sitting in the back seat of Quincy’s cruiser.

  “I tried talking to him,” Hailey said. “He’s impossible once he gets like this. Best to just let him cool down.”

  Which was not likely to happen until they uncuffed him. It was a vicious cycle.

  Sun scanned the site. They’d chosen that particular cabin not only because of its seclusion, but also because it had an attached garage, a rarity in the cabin world. It was important no one see them going from house to vehicle. The team had no idea how many minions Clay and Redding had on their payroll who could be watching at any given time.

  The cabin belonged to a friend of her dad’s who was summering in the Hamptons.

  “People really do that?” she’d asked her dad when they’d come up with the plan.

  “’Parently.”

  Quincy had stocked it with the essentials earlier. God only knew what he considered essential, but it should be enough to get them through the next week or so while Wynn tried to ascertain exactly what Clay’s plan was. How and when they were going to make the attempt on Levi’s life.

  The mere thought weakened Sun’s knees. She would arrest him a million times if it meant keeping him safe, so he could just be furious.

  “Okay, thanks, guys. I’ll uncuff him.”

  Quincy held up a hand. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, boss.”

  But Hailey had a little more faith in her. “I think she’s got this, Deputy.”

  He grinned down at her. “It’s Chief Deputy, actually.”

  She wiggled her shoulders in a soft shiver, her excitement betraying her like a cat flicking its tail. It was no wonder Quincy had volunteered his services as personal bodyguard and put Salazar on Cruz duty. Passing the buck already.

  Sun opened the back door of Quincy’s cruiser and scooted onto the seat beside Levi. He’d now had the cuffs on for over half an hour. Behind his back, no less. He could not possibly be comfortable. But he didn’t look at her. Didn’t ask to have them removed. Didn’t move a muscle.

  Oh, yeah. He was pissed.

  Oddly enough, she didn’t care. She studied the profile of the man beside her. The man she’d loved since the beginning of time, so it seemed. The feelings that had threatened to overwhelm her when she was fake-arresting him—when she was leading his large hands behind his back, his sinewy forearms constricting, his jaw hardening—resurfaced.

  A wave of emotion she hadn’t expected swept over her. The last few days of her life had taken its toll. Not only with Auri and Cruz and even Mrs. Fairborn and the whole secret society thing, but to learn the truth after so long. To learn that Auri had been conceived not out of hatred or deviance, but out of love. A love that had endured for almost three decades. To learn that her rescuer was none other than the man of her dreams. That, like Cruz with Auri, he’d almost died protecting her.

  Since ethics didn’t seem to be her thing anyway, Sun twisted around in the seat, eased a leg over his, and straddled him.

  He turned his head to the side, but only slightly, as her breasts brushed against him. A day’s worth of growth covered his strong jaw. Framed his perfect face. Showcased his full, sculpted mouth. She lifted her fingers to it, unable to resist.

  At least he didn’t tell her to get off. Maybe he was just racking up points for the assault charges, but she didn’t think so.

  “You can be mad at me forever, Levi Ravinder.” She brushed them over his five-o’clock. “You can curse me and hate me and never talk to me again, but know this.” She slid her index finger down the bridge of his refined nose. “I will always do whatever it takes to keep you safe. And I will always love you.”

  The images that had flashed in her mind two nights ago when she saw his scars made an impromptu appearance. Levi fighting Kubrick in the rain. Stumbling toward her. Carrying her to the truck. Forcing water into her burning mouth. Levi hurt. Covered in blood. Doubling over in pain.

  Levi dying. Lying in his bed, literally bleeding to death. Because of her. Because he saved her.

  And almost eight years later, he’d saved Auri as well.

  “You’ve said that before,” he said, his tone ice cold. “Two hours later, you ran out on me.”

  “Speaking of which…” She leaned back against the cage and crossed her arms over her chest. “I remembered.” She gestured to his abdomen. “I remembered. It all came back to me. Well, most of it.” Once again, emotion welled inside her and thickened her voice for a moment. “You saved me,” she said when she recovered. “You … you fought Kubrick. You were stabbed and still you fought.”

  Realization dawned on his face and he bit down. “The scars.”

  “Yes, the scars, Levi. Why would you keep that from me?”

  He scoffed, and said through gritted teeth, “Wynn.” He said his uncle’s name as though he were already conjuring a plan to get back at him. She almost felt bad for the guy.

  “Yes, Wynn. But why not you? Why keep this from me all these years?”

  The look he gave her would’ve melted a lesser woman. Apparently, that included her. She melted on the spot at the turmoil in his expression.

  “What was I supposed to say, Vicram? ‘Oh, hey, you were raped. Yeah, a Ravinder did it. Better luck next time.’ I didn’t want you to remember. To associate something that horrible with my family. With me.”

  She let that sink in, then asked, “When did you figure out I wasn’t?”

  “Wasn’t what?”

  “Raped.”

  A stillness settled over him, and she could tell his calmness reflected only what was on the surface. Underneath, his heart and mind were like thoroughbreds racing to an invisible finish line.

  “I know that you know, Levi. You have to know.”

  His dark irises glittered, wary and guarded. “Know what?”

  Had it really come to this? Was she going to have to force him to acknowledge the truth? She took his gorgeous face into both of her hands, and said softly, “You know Auri is yours.”

  Thank you, dear reader, for choosing to accompany me in the further adventures of Sunshine and Auri Vicram! These books have been an absolute joy to write—a dream come true, really—but I certainly didn’t do it alone. So many people helped with this book, and they all have my undying gratitude. The following is only a partial list.

  First, I must thank my amazing editor, Alexandra Sehulster, who spent almost as much time editing this book as I did writing it. I handed her what we in the biz call a hot mess and she made it pretty. And sparkly. And, you know, readable. Thank you for the hours and hours you put into this project. I am beyond grateful.

  Thank you to the most amazing agent on the planet, Alexandra Machinist, a star so bright, I am honored to be in her orbit.

  And to Josie Freedman, my incredible film agent who I can’t wait to meet face-to-face. It will happen! I know it!

  Thank you to Trayce Layne, my continuity editor, beta reader, research assistant, shoulder.… Here’s to all of the hats you wear so beautifully!

  And to copyeditor Ed Chapman. Sunshine would not shine nearly as brightly without your expertise. (Someday, in the distant—very distant—future, I will learn the difference between rack and wrack.)

  Thank you to Jeffe Kennedy for hanging with me all day, every day, until I wrote The End. (Metaphorically.) I love Zooming with you! (Non-metaphorically.)

  Thanks to everyone at St. Martin’s Press, Macmillan Audio, ICM Partners, and Piatkus for everything you do. You’re the wizards behind the curtain who fill people’s lives with happiness.

  And thank you to the insanely talented Lorelei King! Eeeep! I’m so thrilled you’re bringing Sun
shine and the gang to life and I hope we get to work together for decades to come.

  Thank you to my Netterly for being the Netterly Nette that you are. My Danerly for having that incredible Danerly brain of yours. And my Kinter Pot Pie for the blatant borrowing of your identity. It had to be done.

  Thank you to my early readers, Jeffe, Dana, Wendy, Jessica, Yennifer, and Ursula, for your input and profound advice. I promise to stop using gorgeous so often, but for now, you are all gorgeous creatures and I’m so grateful for you.

  Thank you to my family. You know who you are. There is no escape.

  Thank you to my GRIMLETS!!! You are the best Grimlets a girl could ask for. Sometimes we writers get stuck on the simplest things. Thanks for unsticking me, especially the lovely Brianna Cowles who may recognize a line from the book, since she wrote it.

  And thank you, again, dear readers! I hope you’re enjoying Sunshine as much as I’m enjoying writing her. Here’s to your health and happiness in the coming years!

  ALSO BY DARYNDA JONES

  Sunshine Vicram

  A Bad Day for Sunshine

  Charley Davidson

  Summoned to Thirteenth Grave

  The Trouble with Twelfth Grave

  Eleventh Grave in Moonlight

  The Curse of Tenth Grave

  The Dirt on Ninth Grave

  Eighth Grave After Dark

  Seventh Grave and No Body

  Sixth Grave on the Edge

  Fifth Grave Past the Light

  Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet

  Third Grave Dead Ahead

  Second Grave on the Left

  First Grave on the Right

  Death and the Girl He Loves

  Death, Doom, and Detention

  Death and the Girl Next Door

  About the Author

  New York Times and USA Today bestselling author DARYNDA JONES won a Golden Heart and a RITA for her manuscript First Grave on the Right. A born storyteller, she grew up spinning tales of dashing damsels and heroes in distress for any unfortunate soul who happened by, annoying man and beast alike. Darynda lives in the Land of Enchantment, also known as New Mexico, with her husband and two beautiful sons, the Mighty, Mighty Jones Boys. You can sign up for email updates here.

 

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