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

“No. Well, yes. But more importantly, it means Mrs. Fairborn is guilty.”

“Holy crap, you’re right! Why else wouldn’t she press charges?”

“Exactly.”

“We have to prove it.”

“We will. I have to fix something first. I just wanted to check on you. Are you grounded?”

She let out a lengthy sigh. “No, but I would feel better if I were.”

“Oh, no.” Dread slid up Auri’s spine like a snake. “What happened?”

“Can you imagine what it was like for my mother, getting a call about me from a sheriff’s deputy after I almost died? Twice? She is so traumatized, Auri, she had to take a sleeping pill and go to bed.”

Tears stung the backs of her eyes. She really knew how to leave a mark. “Sybil, I am so sorry.”

“What? No. That’s not what I was getting at,” she said, her tone edgier than normal, “I am a big girl. It may not seem like it sometimes, but I can make my own decisions, and I chose to do this.”

“Because of me.”

“It was my decision. I am the one who has to live with what I just put my mother through. And my dad. He’s downstairs drinking some of Mr. Ravinder’s moonshine.”

The guilt that swept over Auri made her feel nauseous. No matter what Sybil said, it was entirely, one hundred and ten percent, Auri’s fault.

“Hold on,” Sybil said. “What do you mean you have to fix something? Fix what?”

No way was she going to involve her best friend any more than she already had. “I’ll tell you at school tomorrow.”

“You realize we only have three weeks left,” Sybil said, almost sadly.

A soft laugh escaped Auri. “You are the only person I know who gets sad when school lets out for the summer.”

“I just like seeing you every day.”

“And that has to change why?”

“We can still hang?”

“Sybil St. Aubin, we are going to have a blast this summer. You just wait. If I’m not in jail.”

“You just said … why would you be in jail? Auri, what are you planning?”

“Nothing you need to worry your big brain about. See you tomorrow.”

“Aurora!” she shouted as Auri hung up.

She knew she’d cave if Sybil pressed the issue. She needed to do this alone. She needed to fix her amateur mistake before she could go to her mother again. If she went to her mother again. Maybe, instead, she’d go to Quincy. He’d believe her.

Thing was, she adored Mrs. Fairborn. But did that mean she should just let her get away with murder? If she did, if she let her feelings influence her ability to do the right thing, to bring closure to those families who’d lost loved ones, what would that make her?

Cruz wasn’t texting back and worry gnawed at her. She could only hope his dad grounded him and nothing more. She’d screwed up before, but this was catastrophic on several levels. Levels she hadn’t thought of before she decided to take the law into her own hands.

While she waited for word from him, she dug a little deeper into the origins of the necklace. It was so intricately carved, but even if it dated back to the Roman Empire, which that one didn’t, it would still only be worth a few thousand dollars.

The way the family spoke in the interview they gave one reporter, that necklace was a family heirloom and worth more sentimentally than anything material they owned. They claimed the missing girl, Emily Press, was a poor relation and had stolen it when she’d come to visit.

She brought up the picture she’d snapped of the pendant and studied it again, enlarging it this way and that. The oval the cameo was set in wasn’t even real gold. It was brass, bulky, and not particularly pretty, and it had patinaed with age.

“Pepperoni with extra pineapple,” her grandma said as she brought Auri a slice.

Auri clicked out of the camera app and laughed as she looked at the plate. “That doesn’t look like pineapple.”

“Yeah, they forgot it. I could send it back.”

“No!” Auri jumped up and grabbed the plate from her. She was starving. Apparently food in jail was not a given.

“Whatcha doin’?” her grandpa asked. He handed her a glass of sparkling water with cranberry.

“Thanks, Grandpa. Just some homework.”

“If you want to talk about anything …”

“You mean how I ruined the lives of two of my best friends, may have gotten my mom fired, and disappointed everyone I know and love?”

“Yes,” he said with a humorous grin. “But not everyone.”

“You’re not disappointed?”

“Please,” her grandma said with a snort. “You have no idea what your mother put us through. You couldn’t disappoint us any worse than she did that time she threw a party while we were out of town and invited an entire biker gang called the El Choppos, who used my bras to shoot water balloons at the neighbor’s house.”

“Oh,” Auri said, genuinely concerned.

“Her defense was that she only let them use my old bras.”

Her grandpa gave her a stern expression. “If you promise not to invite motorcycle clubs to our house, I think we’ll be golden.”

She giggled. “I promise.”

“Then we’re good, peanut.”