A Bad Day for Sunshine (Sunshine Vicram #1)(12)



“It’s okay.” Donna clipped on a pair of magnetic sunglasses over her wire frames. “I’ll find out on my own.”

Sun suppressed a shudder of dread. Honestly, what had her parents done? Making an enemy of the mayor could not have been their best idea. No, their best had been starting that garden and accidentally growing marijuana. This one was third, maybe fourth on the list.

“In the meantime, you might want to do a search for a concept called the glass cliff.”

Sun tried not to snort. She failed miserably, but at least she’d given her all. “Is that what you think this is?”

The glass cliff was a play on the metaphor of a glass ceiling. Only in this scenario, a woman or minority was put in a position of authority during a time of crisis. In other words, he or she was set up to take the fall when everything went belly-up.

“Is Del Sol on the verge of collapse?”

“You haven’t heard?” She tsked as she turned to walk out. “You might want to do your homework.”

What did that mean? No one told her there’d be homework. Would there be a test? A research project? Any opportunities to earn extra credit?

“I’ll tell you what.” Donna stopped and turned back like a runway model at Fashion Week. Either that or Sun’s girl crush had been harder than she’d remembered. “I don’t really care how you came into office. I appreciate a good law enforcement officer as much as the next person. Especially one with your record.”

“My record?” Now she was just embarrassed. “Look, we recorded that in one take. In Quincy’s garage. We didn’t even have a decent sound system.”

“Funny. I particularly liked the part where you beat up that college student who’d murdered that girl, handcuffed him to you, and physically dragged him to the nearest police station.”

Sun laughed softly. Good times.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

That perked her up. “Okay, but I’m keeping my clothes on this time.”

“You get me the names of the Dangerous Daughters, and I’ll let the whole thing slide.”

That time, Sun didn’t even try to suppress her snort. She let it rip and then gaped at the woman in front of her. “The Dangerous Daughters? Would you like Santa’s address while I’m at it?”

Donna stood unfazed. Her temerity was sobering.

“You can’t honestly believe they exist.”

“I do,” she said. “How else do you explain your win?”

Sun’s brows inched together. “I’ve heard they prefer being called the Diabolical Daughters.”

“I’ve heard that, too. I’ve also heard them called the Devil’s Daughters. The Damnable Daughters. Even the Despicable Daughters. Take your pick. I just want their names.”

The Dangerous Daughters were supposedly the members of a group of women who’d, according to rumor, secretly run the town since it went from being a bankrupt mining town to a hippie commune in the 1930s. The Dangerous Daughters were the wizards behind the curtain, so to speak. If it were true, they’d be really old right now. How hard could they be to find?

“And how do you propose I get the names of the members of a group that doesn’t exist?”

“You’ll think of something.”

“Or?”

Her shapely lips formed the smallest, most confident of smiles. “Or I’ll go through your past with a razor-sharp machete and rip it apart, thread by fragile thread.” She leaned in as though sharing a secret. “No one wants that, now do we?”

When she turned and exited the office, Sun realized she’d been holding her breath with that last threat. She most definitely did not want anyone sifting through her past. She had something to hide. Something she’d give her life to keep hidden. Something Auri could never, under any circumstances, find out.

Thus, she had a choice to make. Did she cut a bitch, set a bitch on fire, or eviscerate a bitch’s online presence and get her sent to prison for kiddie porn?

If only her mother had named her Lisbeth Salander. That woman never thinks ahead.





4


Skinny people are easier to kidnap.

Stay safe.

Eat cake.



—SIGN AT THE SUGAR SHACK

After a ten-minute pep talk in which Sun convinced herself Mayor Lomas would find nothing, no matter how razor-sharp the machete she wielded, the shiny new sheriff stepped out of her office to find the whole gang standing stock-still around Anita’s desk.

Sun cleared her throat, expecting the deputies to give her their full attention.

They did not.

She cleared her throat again, louder this time.

Still nothing.

She cleared her throat a third time, loud enough to pull a larynx.

No reaction whatsoever.

Giving in, she wove through the obstacle course that was the heart of the sheriff’s station and walked up behind her team of deputies, rising onto her toes to see what they were looking at.

She’d taken the previous week to meet one-on-one at a local coffee shop with each of her deputies and her office manager, and had almost succeeded save one. The four deputies she had met with and the one administrative staff member were all present and accounted for, ready to celebrate Sun’s first day on the job.

Darynda Jones's Books