A Good Day for Chardonnay (Sunshine Vicram #2) by Darynda Jones

Auri’s curiosity got the better of her. “There has to be more to this.”

“Precisely. I never figured it out. Maybe you can.”





26


Beer: So much more than just a breakfast drink.

—SIGN AT THE ROADHOUSE BAR AND GRILL




“Are you kidding me?” Sun walked in to find her parents frantically searching for her daughter. “You lost her again?”

They turned to her, frazzled and exasperated. Only Aurora Dawn could do that to them.

“You guys are fired.”

A tiny voice floated to them from the doorway. “Hey, Grandma. Hey, Grandpa.”

The queen of mischief hobbled in dragging her IV stand like a set of golf clubs.

“Auri,” Elaine said, rushing to her and pulling her into her arms. Cyrus soon followed. “Where did you go?”

“For a walk.”

Sun crossed her arms over her chest.

Auri caved like a cardboard roof during a rainstorm. “I went to apologize to Mrs. Fairborn.”

“Auri,” Sun scolded, helping her daughter into bed. “That poor woman doesn’t need you traumatizing her anymore. Seeing her without her permission at this point borders on unethical, honey.”

“But you’re about to take her home. It was now or never. And she was moaning.”

“I’m going to check on her. You stay.”

Auri’s tiny shoulders sagged but Sun didn’t miss the reassuring smile she cast across the hall to Cruz. They must’ve been exonerated by Mrs. Fairborn, which would be a weight off her chest.

They were releasing Mrs. Fairborn that afternoon, and Sun offered to drive her home. It was the least she could do, all things considered. She threatened her parents one last time for good measure, then went in search of a serial killer.

“That girl of yours is clever,” Mrs. Fairborn said after an hour of almost complete silence on the ride home. Mostly because she’d fallen asleep the instant they headed out of the parking lot.

“She is. Thank you.”

“Oh, can you run me by the Swirls-n-Curls, honey? I need to grab a couple of things.”

“Of course.” They pulled in back and Mrs. Fairborn handed her a list. Sun laughed and went inside to gather the essentials, which were already bagged and waiting for her.

Next, they went to the grocery store, where Mrs. Fairborn only needed toilet paper and Dr Pepper, and would she mind? Then to the hardware supply store where she swore she needed three rolls of electrical tape. It wasn’t until they ended up at the bait shop that Sun began to suspect the woman was leading her on a wild-goose chase, but to what end?

Sun couldn’t help but wonder if she was afraid to go home. No one would blame her. Several members of the community cleaned the crime scene at her house after forensics finished. They even replaced a couple of broken windows, fixed a leaky faucet, and brought her some individually packaged home-cooked meals.

But she was still attacked in her home. Her sanctuary invaded. The one place she felt safe had been violated. Sun couldn’t imagine how that felt.

“This is the very last stop,” she promised.

“Mrs. Fairborn, is there somewhere else I can take you? You don’t have to go home if you don’t want to.”

“Oh, no, honey. It’s okay. I just have one more thing to get.”

She blinked and looked out her windshield. “At The Angry Angler?”

“Yep.”

“You going fly-fishing?”

“Better. Angry fly-fishing. I hear it’s much more productive if you yell at the fish as you’re pulling them in.”

“I’ve heard that,” Sun said with a snort.

Sun saw Quincy walking in the back.

She opened the door and hopped out. “Quince, wait up.”

He turned. “Hey, boss.” He gestured toward the fishing shop. “Got a call about a disturbance.”

“Stay here, Mrs. Fairborn.” She locked her doors before heading inside, her palm on her duty weapon.

Quincy knocked on the back door and tried the knob. “It’s unlocked.”

She nodded.

He opened the door and they slipped inside to an empty storeroom. After they headed up front and cleared the floor, they looked at each other. The sign on the locked front door read CLOSED.

“No one’s here,” Quincy said, right before they heard a crash.

“Does this place have a basement?” she asked.

They hurried to a set of stairs beside a bookcase, which were not easily visible or accessible. They drew their duty weapons.

“Sheriff’s office!” Quincy said. “Show your hands!”

Sun followed him down a narrow set of stairs into a dark room just as the lights flared to life around them. She was blinded for a few vital seconds. When her vision adjusted, she looked around at a roomful of smiling faces.

She turned to Quince.

He turned to her. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“I was about to ask you that same thing.”

When she scanned the room again, she realized she knew every single person there, including Mrs. Fairborn, whom she’d just locked in her cruiser, and her parents. The same parents she’d just left in Albuquerque.

“Did you lose her again?” she asked them.

Her father grinned. “Don’t worry about the peanut. She’s in very good hands.”