A Bad Day for Sunshine--A Novel Page 10

  So, what would happen if her mom found out? Auri would lose her life. Plain and simple. Her mother would seek the death penalty. Of course, there were always worse alternatives. She could lose her phone.

  She dropped her gaze to the square piece of plastic in her hands, her wellspring of knowledge and art and communication. The magical instrument around which all life revolved. She could lose it for the next thirty years.

  Then again, she pretty much had her mom wrapped around her little finger. If she did lose it, surely it wouldn’t take long to win back her mom’s favor and her precious phone. Thirty years? Pshaw. She could do it in twelve.

  A tiny smile tugged at her mouth as she sized up the student who’d pulled the short straw and got the lunch shift. Twelve years? It’d be worth it.

  * * *

  And that was how Auri Vicram found herself in the principal’s office.

  All things considered, she couldn’t be that upset about her situation. Not when two male teachers escorted two boys into the office, the first boy wearing jeans and a green army jacket, the second wearing a Seattle Seahawks hoodie and a sheepish expression.

  Stunned, Auri turned to Cruz De los Santos. Even with his chin lowered in obstinance, the surprise on his face when he saw her sitting in the principal’s office was almost comical, though probably no more than the surprise on her own. Had he gone after the boy who’d run her down? Had he hit him?

  Mr. Jacobs had been talking softly to Corrine. He finished and gave Auri his complete attention, something she’d never craved.

  “I’m calling your mom this time,” he said to her, almost sadly.

  Auri felt the color drain from her face. Of course, he would call her mom. As far as he was concerned, she’d been stealing ACT scores or social security numbers or nuclear launch codes. She couldn’t believe he’d caught her so red-handed. She totally needed to sharpen her criminal mind.

  “And I’d call your dad,” he said to Cruz, “but I’m not sure I can trust you to give him the whole story.”

  What did that mean? Cruz lifted a shoulder as though baffled himself.

  The kid in the Seahawks jersey spoke up. “We were just talking,” he said before giving Cruz an apologetic sideways glance.

  “What? Between shoves?”

  “It was just a misunderstanding.” The kid looked at her. “I didn’t mean to run you down like that. It’s just, it’s pizza day.”

  Auri was partly amused by his honesty and partly stunned. Cruz had shoved him on her account? Her emotions volleyed between elation and horror.

  “Yeah, well, Mr. De los Santos seems to have a lot of misunderstandings.” He crooked his finger, and the Seahawks fan followed him into his office.

  Auri pretended to study her shoes. Instead, she studied Cruz’s. He wore a ragged pair of Adidas that used to be white. The strings were frayed, the glue around the soles worn and about to fall apart. She glanced down at her boots, the brand-new ones her grandparents had bought her for Christmas, and suddenly felt uncomfortable in them.

  She could tell from her periphery that he had yet to focus on anything but her, but she couldn’t tell if he was still angry with her or not.

  “I didn’t thank you,” she said, her voice softer than she’d intended. “So, thanks.”

  “For what?” he asked.

  She lifted a shoulder. She wanted to say, “For taking up for me. For being nice to me. For leaving heat trails when you walk so I can always know where you are.” Which wouldn’t have sounded stalkery at all. Instead, she said simply, “For catching me.”

  Mr. Jacobs opened his office door and summoned Cruz with a brusque, “De los Santos.”

  Cruz’s gaze traveled over her face before getting up, his expression part curiosity and part appreciation, and Auri suddenly understood that whole boy-girl attraction thing on a much deeper level.

  Before she made a complete fool of herself by asking him to show her the ways of love, she nodded toward the office where Mr. Jacobs stood waiting.

  One corner of his mouth slid up, but he obeyed. Auri watched in fascination as said heat trails streaked in his wake, then slowly dissipated. Metaphorically speaking.

  * * *

  Sun walked out of the restroom a new woman. Or, well, a cleaner woman after washing her face and brushing her teeth. Vomit tended to leave an aftertaste.

  She set her deputies on various duties, including a thorough background check on the St. Aubins and a preliminary search of the public areas in town.

  Her phone rang just as she took the copy of the letter from Quincy. She checked the ID and slid the button to the right, her anxiety spiking again.

  “Sheriff Vicram.”

  Through the miracle of technology, a male voice floated into her ear. “Hello, Sheriff. I thought perhaps you’d like to come talk to your daughter. Explain things to her like how the law works. How breaking and entering is wrong. And how stealing is frowned upon in most cultures.”

  “Auri?” Adrenaline shot through her, spiraling down her spine and contracting her stomach again. “My Auri? What happened?”

  “Look, I know you’re having one hell of a day, but maybe you could swing by the school?”

  She bit back a curse. “I’ll be there in five.”

  She turned to her deputies to make one final statement before heading out. “He drugged her. And he’s keeping her drugged.”

  Price gaped at her. “You’re taking that note seriously?”

  Now was not the time. “About as seriously as I take you.”

  He showed his palms, and she groaned inwardly. What the hell did that even mean?

  “Salazar,” she said, turning to the young deputy with chipmunk cheeks and doe-like eyes.

  “Yes, sir. Ma’am. Sheriff.”

  She lowered her chin and raised a brow. “Call in the dogs.”

  The room went silent as Sun turned and headed out the door. Then, in barely contained enthusiasm, Salazar whispered, “I get to call in the dogs.”

  Quincy chuckled as he followed her. “Want to explain that comment to Price?”

  “Want to explain your face?”

  “No explanation would do it justice. Let’s just say the world needed a hero. I rose to the occasion. Clear-cut case of supply and demand.” He herded Sun to the passenger’s side of the cruiser. “I’ll take this one, yeah? In case you get sick again?”

  Mortification swallowed her. “You heard that?”

  “The entire block heard that.” After he started the SUV, he paused and sobered. Sober was not Quincy’s best look. “You sure you’re okay? You’re taking this note thing pretty seriously.”

  “I am, aren’t I? And do you know why? Because we’re in the crazy capital of the world. I’ve been trying to tell you since we were kids. Things happen here that don’t happen in other towns. Strange things. Unexplainable things.”

  “Like a regular joe’s addiction to chocolate-covered pretzel sticks dipped in red chile powder?”

  “Yes,” she said, vindicated. “Finally, someone gets it.”

  He headed toward the high school without her having to tell him. “Any idea what that kid of yours did?”

  “Not a clue. But I did come on strong with the Lisbeth Salander talk this morning.”

  “You have got to cut that shit out, Sunburn. She’s going to end up in prison for setting someone on fire.”

  He had a point. One she decided to ignore.

  Instead, she looked out the window as they drove down Main. Much of the town was made up of the old housing the miners had lived in. Rows of small A-frames lined one side of the street while the other side was made up of stucco and wood Pueblo buildings.

  Most of the businesses that occupied the buildings were artists of various metal and talent, but there was also a smattering of small restaurants, a grocery store, and a firehouse.

  At the end of Main, before the road headed up into the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, sat a biker bar owned and operated by the Ravinders. It was a pla
ce Sun imagined she’d be visiting often, considering her new position and nickel-slick badge.

  She looked for his truck as they passed. As far as she knew, Levi rarely stepped foot inside his family’s pub, but she couldn’t keep herself from checking.

  “He’s not there,” Quincy said, reading her mind as usual. “He’s probably at the distillery.”

  “I wasn’t looking.”

  “Never mind,” Quince said, craning his neck. “Oh, he is there.”

  Sun whirled around and saw … nothing.

  The stucco building was one of the oldest in the town and sported thick wood accents and a plethora of neon signs, but it did not have a truck sitting in the parking lot with a Dark River Shine wrap.

  “Asshole,” she said, disappointment consuming her. Sun saw this becoming an issue if she didn’t get her hormones under control.

  Quince accepted her insult with a shrug and a nod. “I’ve been called worse.”

  Two minutes later, he pulled into the high school parking lot, threw the SUV into park, then turned to her, doing the sober thing again. “You didn’t tell me that.”

  She shifted in her seat. “Tell you what?”

  He scratched at a stray thread on the steering wheel. “You were drugged.”

  He needn’t have explained any further. She knew where he was going without saying another word. “It’s so weird. That is at the very top of my Things I Never Want to Talk to Quincy About list.”

  Though she didn’t remember even a tenth of what had happened to her, it was still a violation of epic proportions. There was still a barrier she couldn’t quite get past, even with her best friend.

  When she turned to get out, he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I get that, Sunny. I always have. But you were drugged. You went through the same thing Sybil described in her letter. You felt the same. Weak. Disoriented. Scared.”

  She finally saw the hurt and anger in his deep blue eyes. She so rarely considered what he went through that summer, and it was unfair and selfish of her to leave without an explanation. But now was not the time.

  “I’m sorry, Quince.”

  “I know. Bad timing. But now that we’re working together, we are going to talk about it. Eventually.”

  She swallowed hard, then nodded. “One of these days. Scout’s honor.” She hurried out of the cruiser before he could question her again, but he caught up with her easily.

  In a tone that told her everything was okay between them, he pointed out one pertinent fact. “You were never a scout.”

  * * *

  Auri had always thought of herself as a bit of a Goody Two-shoes, a tad uptight when it came to throwing caution to the wind, and when she saw her mother enter the building wearing full sheriff regalia and a frown the size of Texas, she remembered why.

  Self-preservation.

  She took a hit off her inhaler and sank down in the chair that sat across from Corrine’s desk in the main office. And Corrine’s desk sat in front of the door to the principal’s office, the same principal who was busy eyeing her with a combination of disappointment and humor as he ate lunch at his desk. Corrine was taking her lunch, as well, and the scent of baked turkey and green chile subs from the Bread Basket made Auri’s mouth water.

  Mr. Jacobs had already let Cruz go. She had no idea if he’d gotten ahold of Cruz’s dad or not, but when Cruz left the office, he didn’t seem particularly upset.

  Then again, not much seemed to ruffle him.

  Quincy stepped inside the building with her mom, and Auri’s mortification exploded, bringing tears to her eyes. So now both her mouth and her eyes were watering.

  Principal Jacobs stood when he saw the law enforcement officers enter, and Auri could only pray that they’d talk about the incident inside his office. The bell was about to ring, and everyone in school would see her being interrogated for breaking and entering.

  Sunshine Vicram stepped into the office, her expression completely neutral when she cast Auri a quick glance before addressing the principal. He summoned Auri with a crook of his finger.

  Time slowed as she walked past Quincy, ignoring the look of encouragement he wore—she didn’t deserve it—and took a seat in front of Principal Jacobs’s desk.

  It was good to see Leo again on that very desk. She could only pray Principal Jacobs wouldn’t tell her mom about the lion’s adventure or the spray paint fiasco. Her mom had enough to worry about with Sybil missing.

  Principal Jacobs motioned for her mom to come around to his side of the desk, while explaining, “It seems your daughter broke into the counselor’s office and went through her things. I’m just foggy as to why.”

  Her mom leaned over and looked closer at his computer. Was there surveillance footage? No way was there surveillance footage. And yes, telling herself that made her feel better.

  “Of course, after the morning she’s had, I’m more than willing to hear her side of it.” He left the sentiment hanging, and Auri slammed her lids shut.

  “What do you mean?” her mom asked. “What happened this morning?”

  While Sunshine’s expression and posture remained neutral, Auri could hear the stress in her voice. The edge in her tone.

  Auri curled her hands into fists and clenched them tightly. Her mom didn’t need to know what happened this morning.

  Mr. Jacobs glanced at her in surprise, then pressed his lips together. “I just mean, it’s her first day, and the first day at a new school is always difficult.”

  Quincy had been hanging back near the door to the office when the bell rang. To Auri’s horror, one side of the room was all glass, just like the main office, and looked out into the hall. Students filed by, and Auri slid down in her seat.

  The deputy maneuvered himself, using his wide shoulders to create a barricade between two bookshelves so the students going by would be hard-pressed to see who sat in the hot seat.

  Auri could’ve kissed him right then and there if it wouldn’t have been inappropriate. And a little gross.

  “Auri?” Sunshine asked, straightening, the edge in her tone sharpening.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I wanted to help with the investigation. I wanted to help you find Sybil.”

  All three of them blinked at her.

  Sunshine sobered first. “And just how was your breaking and entering going to help us find Sybil?”

  Auri hadn’t wanted this. She was usually so good at these kinds of things. She could find a needle in a haystack given the right tools. Through all the cases she’d worked—she preferred to call them cases as opposed to favors since she’d started charging for her services—she’d never been caught. But one day at Del Sol High, and her perfect record had come to an unfortunate and terrifying end.

  “I was going to interview her friends, but I don’t know who her friends are, so I wanted her class schedule so I’d know where to start, but I knew they couldn’t just give it to me, so I needed the password to hack into the system and get it.”

  The three adults in the room stood for a solid minute, and Auri could tell her mom wasn’t sure what to do. Now was her chance to plead her case.

  “Who better to investigate a teen than another teen?” she asked. “I mean, I can gather intel here while you’re investigating out there.”

  When Sun finally spoke, the edge in her voice hadn’t softened one iota, much to Auri’s disappointment. “Aurora Dawn Vicram. You broke the law. And you had plans to break it even more. Since when do you hack into someone’s computer?”

  The sting in the backs of Auri’s eyes caused her frustration to spike even further. “I can help, Mom. I’m very good at getting information when I need to, and Sybil is missing. Isn’t that all that matters?”

  Sun sat in the chair next to her. “Sweetheart, did Sybil say anything to you?”

  “Not directly. That’s why I wanted to talk to her friends. She seemed to know something was going to happen.”

  “In what way?”

  “She texted me a couple of d
ays ago.”

  “When you met up at the Pecos?” The Pecos Percolator was one of three coffee shops the tiny town had to offer.

  She nodded. “She was acting strange, saying things like she was so glad we got to be friends, even for just a little while. I didn’t understand, but I think someone was following her, Mom. Or threatening her. I mean, why would she say something like that?”

  Quincy knelt in front of her. “Okay, bean sprout, did she say anything else? Anything that could help us identify who it was?”

  “No. And I didn’t push.” The wetness she’d been fighting slipped past her eyelashes. She swiped at the trail, annoyed. “Quincy, she’s so nice. We have to find her.”

  Without another word, Quincy pulled her into his massive arms. His hug felt like home. Warm and comforting and oddly constrictive.

  Principal Jacobs stood. “Aurora, I need to know you aren’t going to try to hack my system again.”

  Hope blossomed inside her. “I won’t try again. I swear.”

  “Well, then, I don’t see why we can’t let this slide, considering the circumstances.”

  While Mr. Jacobs seemed satisfied, the new sheriff wasn’t so easily placated. Her expression remained impassive as she scrutinized her daughter.

  “Mom?” Auri said, her chest squeezing her lungs until they hurt.

  “And,” the principal continued, addressing the surly woman in black, “since there’s an ongoing investigation, I suppose giving you a copy of Sybil’s class schedule wouldn’t be breaking any laws. If it just happened to slip out of your hand and into someone else’s—like, say, a student’s—that wouldn’t be on me.”

  Her mom deadpanned him. “You’re encouraging my daughter to insert herself into an ongoing missing persons investigation?”

  A wicked smile spread across his face. “I try to nurture the talents of all my students. Not just your daughter, Little Miss Sunshine.”

  Auri almost snorted aloud. Instead, she slammed a hand over her nose and mouth to hold it in.

  Her mom cast him a withering scowl. “You know, you got away with that nickname when I was in high school—”