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

Rav? She let that marinate on her tongue a minute. Savored it. She’d never heard anyone call him that.

“We look over and these men are beating the guy to a pulp and they have him on the ground kicking him. Levi takes off like a rocket toward them, but before he can get there, one of them pulls out a knife.” Her eyes glazed over. “It happened so fast. They stabbed that guy over and over in a matter of seconds.”

Sun put a hand on her arm to steady her. “What happened next?”

“Levi tackled the guy with the knife and the others joined in. I can’t believe he didn’t get stabbed.” She focused on Sun, pleading with her to understand. “He was so fast, Sheriff.”

“The man with the knife?”

“No, Levi. So adept. Like the soldiers you see in movies? I’ve never seen anything like it. He took them down like it was nothing even though they got in some good swings and one landed a kick to his face.”

Every muscle in Sun’s body tensed at the thought of someone kicking Levi in the face. Or anywhere else for that matter.

“He disarmed two of them and got up, but they were already running for their truck. He caught one, though, and he must’ve really hurt him, because the guy screamed and crumpled to the ground. That’s when they hit Levi with the truck.” She squeezed her eyes shut as the memory washed over her. “He got to the driver’s side door and tried to open it, but the guy locked it, so Levi hit the window.” Her gaze drifted back to Sun. “With his fist. He shattered it. He was just so … so determined. So angry. So …” Her gaze turned wistful. “So powerful.”

Sun understood the infatuation all too well. The fact that the girl was outside with Levi and they were, um, talking, didn’t surprise her. Crys was a beauty despite her unfortunate name. Levi would be crazy not to hook up with her.

She forced the green-eyed goblin back to its corner. She had no right to be jealous. With his looks, she could only imagine all the women he’d been with over the years. All the women who’d thrown themselves at him. Jealousy was such a useless emotion. Despite that fact, she was, and it irked her to no end.

Another ankle gave way. That time Sun caught her. “How about we sit down?”

“I’m okay. I only had one drink and I sipped on it all night. It’s these stupid shoes.” She wiped at her eyes, her hands shaking visibly, and Sun realized she wasn’t so much drunk as in shock. Who wouldn’t be after witnessing a brutal attack like that?

Knowing the girl’s memory would be fine, Sun called out for Toby, the EMT. The guy was packing up. He tossed a bag into Big Red and hurried over.

“Can you get her to urgent care, Toby?”

“I’m okay,” she repeated a microsecond before her left leg collapsed. Sun caught her again and righted her the best that she could. It was like trying to hold up a tower of Jell-O.

“You are two seconds away from breaking an ankle.”

When she swayed again, the young EMT catching her that time, Sun insisted. “Urgent care, please, Toby.”

He nodded and took the girl by the arm to lead her to the fire truck. His partner rushed over to help him. Sun figured his concern had more to do with the miniskirt than his occupation, but whatever it took to get the job done.

“Wait a minute,” Sun said, stopping them.

They turned back to her.

“One of the assailants wore a baseball cap?”

The girl looked up in thought and nodded. “Yes. Blue or black, I think, with red on it? Maybe orange? It was dark, so I can’t be certain.”

Sun gritted her teeth. “Oh, I can. That son of a bitch.”

“I’m sorry?” she said, but Sun whirled around and stalked toward her cruiser.

She should have known Levi was clutching that baseball cap a little too tightly. In all of their years of acquaintance, she had never once seen him wear a baseball cap. Not even as a kid.

No wonder he knew they were going north. It was a Denver Broncos cap. The assailants were clever enough to drive a truck, probably stolen, with Texas plates, but not clever enough to ditch the one identifying piece of evidence that could lead the authorities in their general direction?

Of course, the cap could have been planted to throw law enforcement off the trail as well, but for some reason, Levi knew it wasn’t, and she wanted to know why.

She climbed into her cruiser and called Quincy.

He picked up and said only two words. “He’s gone.”

She slammed her lids closed. Son of a bitch. “Put a BOLO on his ass.”

“You got it.”

“He’ll be heading north on 25.”

“Okay.”

“And extend an invitation to whoever finds him to use a Taser.”

A knock sounded on her window. She lowered the phone and turned to see Deputy Salazar, bright-eyed and flushed-faced. “Boss!”

She rolled down her window.

“Las Vegas PD called,” she said, handing her a note. “They were supposed to get this to you earlier today, but someone dropped the ball. Sounds important.”

Sun opened the note. Blinked. Read it again. Thought about it. And read it a third time, just to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.

At one time, Levi Ravinder had four uncles. All of them, along with his father, were members of the infamous Southern Mafia. Levi’s father, for all intents and purposes, died in a car accident, and his uncles splintered. One was murdered—or killed in self-defense, the jury was still out—on a mountaintop fifteen years ago. One died of cancer. And one, Clay, was alive and well, unfortunately, and living at the Ravinder compound a few miles outside of town.