A Bad Day for Sunshine (Sunshine Vicram #1)(111)
“Mm-hmm,” Zee said, adding a healthy dose of skepticism to her voice.
“May I?” Deleon asked, and three heads nodded in unison. “Thanks. Great job on the St. Aubin girl. What a coup.”
“I guess. How is your search going?”
“Don’t get me started.” He took a sip of coffee, then looked back at the proprietors, clearly impressed with their concoction. “We thought we had a solid lead. Turned out to be nothing, so we wasted a whole day.”
“Sorry about that.” She considered telling him the truth, but she needed to talk to Darlene first. If anyone would know where Deleon’s fugitive, Ramses Rojas, was headed, it would be Darlene. Sun could pass on the information without ever involving her mom’s best friend. “How long are you staying in the area?”
The grin he offered her would have melted the knees of a lesser, and less-in-love-with-Levi, girl. Unfortunately, every breath she took seemed to confirm her affliction to a greater degree.
Still, dude was hot.
“Trying to get rid of me already?”
“Not at all. I’m just trying to figure out if that offer for a drink still stands.”
He was about to take a bite of his smoked salmon croissant. He stopped, his sandwich hovering mere centimeters from his mouth. “Yes, it is.”
“Great. I’d love a mocha latte with extra whipped cream.”
His grin turned evil. “Would you?”
“And chocolate sauce. In the shape of the Mona Lisa.”
He put down his sandwich to give her a suspicious once-over. “You’re plying me with your feminine wiles?”
“Not at all. I left my feminine wiles in my other pants. And I very rarely ply in public.”
“Want to tell me what you are doing, then?”
“Nothing dastardly. I just thought you might give me the lowdown on the inmate you’re looking for.”
“Fugitive. The second he escaped, he became a fugitive.”
“Ah, right. I watched the video of the escape. The footage from the transport van?”
“Let me guess.” He sat back in his chair. “He didn’t actually participate in the escape. And he didn’t hurt anyone.”
“It just seemed like a very well-thought-out effort. A coordinated attack. Like it had been planned for weeks. But I noticed in a field report, Ramses wasn’t supposed to be on that transport.”
“You’re right. He didn’t participate in the hijacking. And he didn’t hurt anyone. But he also didn’t stop them from hurting two of our finest. And he did escape with the others.”
“Four.”
He took another sip, wiped his lovely mouth, then asked, “Four?”
“There were four hardened criminals against one man.”
“Ouch,” Quincy said, ever the wordsmith.
“I saw the looks they gave him, Marshal. It wouldn’t have ended well had he tried to intervene.”
“Are you saying he’s an upstanding citizen and we should just let him go because he’s a good guy?”
“No. I’m saying, when you do find him, try to give him a chance to turn himself in.” After all, Darlene Tapia wouldn’t help anyone she knew was a danger to society. Sun would bet her last shiny nickel on that.
“What do you think is going to happen? Do you think I’m going to gun him down in the street?”
She grinned, letting the appreciation she felt for him show. “No, I do not, Marshal Deleon. That’s not your style.”
He grinned back. “I’m glad you noticed.”
“So,” Quincy said, shifting in his chair, “the sib and I are going to interview Mrs. Usury. She owns the land the well house is on.”
Sun blinked at him, his words—or more importantly word—sinking in. Sometimes, when a piece of the puzzle fell into place, a jolt of electricity rocketed through her body. Not always, but that rush of adrenaline, that high, was quite addictive.
Her gaze darted between them, then she asked, “What did you just say?”
Quincy shrugged. “We’re going to interview Mrs. Usury.”
Sun closed her eyes. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe . . . she didn’t know, maybe it was just a word. Just a nickname. Maybe Syb meant nothing.
“What’s going on?” Zee asked.
It was so thin, so far-fetched, she didn’t want to say it out loud for fear it would disintegrate and drift away. But the dimples, for lack of a better term, on Sybil’s temples matched another set she’d seen recently for the first time in her life. And she didn’t believe in coincidences.
She grabbed her jacket and said to them, “Meet me at the urgent care center.”
“Was it something I said?” Quincy asked, scrambling after her.
She skidded to a halt at the door. Quincy and Zee, who’d been hurrying to keep up, almost plowed into her.
She turned to them, her mind racing with all the fragments she’d missed, all the clues that were right there in front of her. She’d just never put them together.
But even now . . . she had to know for certain before she started pointing fingers and making accusations. Then again, what if something bizarre happened and she died in an accident on the way to the urgent care center or she had an aneurysm or the zombie apocalypse was nigher than anyone had imagined.