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

“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.”