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

“I did.”

They strode to her cruiser.

Once behind the wheel, she looked at Levi, more confused now than ever. “I don’t get it. Why would Elliot take his own brother?”

“He’s scared. There’s more to this than meets the eye, and he is right at the center of it.”

“I agree.” She started the SUV and backed onto the narrow street.

“Sorry,” he said, repeating the message on the painting.

She put it into drive. “Right. Not I’m sorry. Just Sorry. The same as the note at the Quick-Mart. It’s like—” She slammed on the brakes well before the stop sign. Levi pitched forward, then raised a sexy, albeit bruised, brow at her. Thankfully, no one was behind them, because she sat there for a few seconds before explaining. “Sorry.”

“Exactly,” he said, clearly wondering about her.

When he didn’t catch on, she repeated, “No, Sorry.”

She saw it the minute it dawned. “Wait, do you think—?”

“I do.”

He sat back as realization washed over him. “Holy shit.”

“You drive.” She jumped out and played fire drill with Levi before climbing back in. He fastened his belt and pulled onto St. Francis while Sun did what she did best. She called in everyone.

Everyone.

Even with the painkillers the doctor gave her at urgent care, Auri couldn’t sleep, and it was due to the worst, most selfish reason possible. She’d found a dead body and she had to tell someone. Namely Sybil and Cruz. And since her grandparents were insisting she stay home and miss a day of school—the horror—she couldn’t tell them at said school as per her original plan.

Thus, she did the next best thing. She waited as long as she possibly could, a.k.a. six o’clock in the morning, and sent them both an RU up yet? text.

Sybil answered first with a saucy, No. WTHeck?

Cruz must’ve still been asleep. So Sybil would get to hear the news first. His loss.

Auri called her.

Sybil answered with a simple, “I told you I’m not up.”

“Oh. My bad. I just thought you might want to know about the dead body I found.”

“I’m up!”

Auri relayed the story about going over to Cruz’s, falling into the ravine, dabbling in a little light bondage with her bike chain, and finding the body of the guy Levi killed. Sybil filled any empty airtime with a comical number of oohs and ahs.

“Was he, you know, bloated?” she asked.

“His hand was. That’s really all I saw. I took a picture of it. It was very disturbing.”

“You have to send it to me!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. How am I going to become a medical examiner if I can’t study dead things?”

“True. Maybe when I become a detective, we’ll end up working together.”

“That would be amazing. We could be like Rizzoli and Isles!”

Auri laughed. “Totally.”

“How’s your ankle?”

“It’s fine. Just a slight sprain. My pride hurts worse.”

While she was busy talking to Sybil on the phone, Auri opened her laptop and saw a message from the cousin of the missing woman who stole the necklace.

“They’re making you stay home?” Sybil asked, her voice turning whiny.

Auri chuckled. “Just today. They think I’m traumatized.”

“You are. You can’t not be.”

“I don’t know.” She looked deep inside herself, but not too deep as she was a little scared of heights. “Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

She decided not to argue. “I’ll let you go so you can get ready.”

“Okay. Watch the soaps and fill me in.”

“You got it.” Auri hung up, then read Billy’s message. Billy Press, the thirty-something car salesman from Amarillo who Auri believed to be Emily Press’s cousin, had responded to her message faster than she thought he would.

Dear Aurora,

Thank you for writing. I could hardly believe it when I saw the picture you sent. I really think that’s my cousin’s necklace! And it’s been found after all these years? My family is floored. I would love to chat and hear all about it. If it’s okay with your parents, can you give me a call? Any time, day or night.

I look forward to hearing from you,

Billy



A part of Auri regretted sending that picture when she did, but now maybe the necklace would find its rightful owners.

But, again, what would happen to Mrs. Fairborn? Why would she still have it after all these years if she weren’t the killer? What other explanation was there?

“You’re up,” her grandma said from her open door. She still wore the tattered turquoise robe Auri’s mom teased her about mercilessly. The one that her grandmother demanded she be buried in because its comfort transcends life itself. Her words.

“I made bacon,” she said.

“Why do you think I’m up?” Few things made her mouth water like the smell of bacon sizzling in the morning.

Auri once asked her mom why there wasn’t bacon-scented perfume. She said there was. Bacon grease.

Auri tried it. It wasn’t as appealing as she thought it would be.

“How are you feeling?” her grandma asked.