A Bad Day for Sunshine (Sunshine Vicram #1)(47)

She and Quincy laughed softly, and Fields apparently decided not to go there.

The minute Sun stepped inside the station, Anita handed her a file with everything they’d found at the St. Aubin house.

“No blood,” Anita said, filling her in as Sun examined the construction crew installing temporary wood panels at the front of the station. Which would certainly help with the heating bill. “But they did find a partial fingerprint. Price is bringing it in now. And they sent over a description of what Sybil was wearing the day before she disappeared. Mrs. St. Aubin can’t find those clothes, so she could still be in them.”

“And the photo? It looks like an ad off the internet.”

“It is an ad off the internet. That’s the backpack the button came from. She could have it with her.”

Sun studied the list and the photo. “Anita, you are a god among mortals. Get this out to everyone.”

Anita lowered her head, unused to such compliments, then turned to Fields as he scanned the file over Sun’s shoulder. “Mr. St. Aubin is home. He wants an update.”

Her words seemed to irk the agent if the straight line across his face where his mouth used to be were any indication. She could hardly blame him. Mr. St. Aubin was used to getting his way because of his money. That wouldn’t get him far with a hardworking field agent.

“Would you mind calling him for me, Anita?” He took his clothes and followed Quincy to the locker room.

“What should I say?”

“Tell him I’ll call him when I have something.”

Anita shrugged and went back to her desk to make the call.

Sun watched him go. Chiseled features. Assertive personality. Penis.

All qualities she liked in a guy.





11


Suspect arrested for shoplifting a travel-sized

toothpaste and for murdering his neighbor.

The incidents do not seem to be related.



—DEL SOL POLICE BLOTTER

Before they headed out, Sun checked in on her inquisitive daughter. “Knock, knock,” she texted.

After a few seconds, her phone vibrated. “Who’s there?”

“Mrs. Are you staying out of trouble?”

“Mrs. Are you staying out of trouble who?”

Sun giggled. “Mrs. Are you staying out of trouble because if you’re not, you’ll be grounded for the rest of your life and your grandmother is going to pick you up after school.”

“That is the longest name ever. Have you heard anything?”

“Not yet, hon, but we may have a lead. Anything on your end?”

“Nothing substantial.”

Sun swelled with pride. How many kids used the word substantial accurately in a sentence?

“Sybil is nice and smart and cute, but she keeps to herself, and I have yet to find a single student who really knew her. One she opened up to.”

“That’s okay. At least you tried. I’ll be home late.”

“Can I help?”

“Yes. You can go to your grandparents’ house and do your homework. And don’t con them into ordering pizza.”

“Okay.”

“And when you do con them into ordering pizza, at least make sure there’s a vegetable on it. Somewhere. Or a fruit. Pineapple is good, I hear.”

She could almost see the eye roll when her daughter texted back, “Fine.”

Quincy came out in civilian clothes.

Sun gestured him closer as she looked past the guys doing construction and pointed. A rust-colored rooster rushed past, much like the roadrunner in the Wile E. Coyote cartoons. “Isn’t that Puff Daddy?”

“The chicken?” he asked.

“The rooster. And, if I’m not mistaken, that’s Mr. Madrid chasing him.”

A man with more bandages than a six-year-old left alone in a doctor’s office stumbled past the front of the station. The two plodded through the snow. The rooster with relative ease. Mr. Madrid not so much.

“Bold of him to give a station full of deputies front-row seats to his criminal activities.”

“Okay, now we have to arrest him.”

“For what?” she asked. “Technically, poor Mr. Madrid does not have possession of Puff Daddy.”

Quincy snorted. “Not for lack of trying.”

“True. But we have work to do.”

“Fine. I’m heading home to get my mom’s pickup.” He wore a khaki jacket, denim jeans, black-framed glasses, and a baseball cap low over his brow. “They’ll never recognize me in it.”

The Ravinders were painfully private people. They would never let Sun or her deputies on their land without some kind of warrant, but Sun needed to know where Levi was searching. Once they had a location, they could get a warrant to assist. If, and only if, Quincy wasn’t spotted on their land.

If it were up to Levi, Sun liked to think he’d be sensible and allow them access. But she couldn’t take the chance. If Sybil was up there, they needed to know sooner rather than later.

“Thanks, Q. Keep me updated.”

“I’ll let you know where they’re searching.”

He started for the exit, but Fields called out to him, “I’m going with you.”

Quince lifted a shoulder. “I’m just getting a location.”