A Bad Day for Sunshine (Sunshine Vicram #1)(90)

He got the message. “I agree. I think she’s handled all this really well, all things considered. So,” he said, blatantly hedging, “Levi Ravinder. Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Me neither. Not in my wildest dreams.”

“Did you find out why he never said anything?”

“He said I never tell him anything, so why should he tell me?”

Quincy stood and strode to the window. “That’s a great reason. I should arrest his ass.”

“On what charges?”

“On the charge of being an asshole.”

She chewed on a fingernail, letting everything she knew thus far simmer. “I feel like there’s something else going on.”

“Okay, an asshole and a prick.”

“Like, maybe he really cares for her.”

“Then why keep something like that from you?”

“I don’t know, Quince, but right now, we have to find Sybil. I shouldn’t have spent half the day on anything else.” After scanning the station, she asked, “Anita is awfully young. Are you sure she’s experienced enough to be fielding calls?”

“Nope. She’s just writing everything down and giving it all to Price.”

“Well, that’s good. What about his connections in Chicago? Anything strange about the St. Aubins I should know about?”

“You aren’t going to believe this.” He sat across from her and leaned in. “They are squeakier than the front wheel on a rusted tricycle.”

“That clean, huh? You talk to the father yet?”

“Forest St. Aubin is so racked with guilt for not listening to his daughter all these years, he’s like the weave in a basket case. The governor has called twice, wants you to call him back.”

“You probably should have led with that.”

“They sent a couple of staties to help out Fields.”

“Probably a good idea. Two heads and all.”

She leaned back in her chair again, frustration coursing through her. “I’m missing something.” She took her copy of Sybil’s letter and read it for the hundredth time. “Oh, how’s the sweep of the shed at Estrella Pond going?”

“Good. They’re almost finished. And then all of that is going to have to be processed.”

“Yep.”

“Were you still looking into it?”

“What?”

“Your case. Your abduction.”

“Nah. What was the point? There were no leads.”

“Until now.”

“Until now,” she echoed.

He got up to leave but stopped at the door and said, “So, the no-more-secrets thing doesn’t apply to me?”

She looked up in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not stupid, Sunny. One of these days, you’ll figure that out.”

When he turned again, she jumped up and stopped him with a hand on his arm. She closed the door to her office and gestured for him to sit down.

He released a lungful of air, then sat.

“Of course I’m still working the case, but it’s very sporadic. I haven’t had a lead in years, and I’m just flying blind, but I am working it.”

“Then why lie to me about it?”

“Because you’re my best friend, and I didn’t want to lose you.”

He stood and went to the window again. “What the fuck does that mean? How would your working the case—”

“You think I don’t know?”

Sun could read her best friend like a paperback, so when he stopped breathing, she knew he was growing worried.

He gave an indifferent shake of his head. “What do you mean?”

She walked around her desk and rested against it. “Quincy, I could tell every time I brought the abduction up how uncomfortable it made you feel.”

“That’s bullshit. I’ve been trying to get you to talk about it for years.”

“Yes. To talk about what I can and cannot remember about my abductor. About where I was being held. About how I showed up at the hospital. But there were always certain aspects of the event that made you uncomfortable.”

His look morphed into one of incredulity.

She ignored it. “At first, I thought it was the whole pregnancy thing. The rape. I mean, I get it. You’re a guy, and unless you’re actually a rapist, talking about that kind of thing should not give you the warm and fuzzies.”

“Especially when it’s you,” he said with a whisper.

“I know.” She walked to him and lifted her hand to his cheek. He wanted to rear back. She could tell. But he stood his ground. “And I understand that.”

“So, then, what are you talking about?”

She lowered her hand but stayed close. “Quince, do you understand that none of that, nothing that happened to me, was your fault?”

“My fault? Of course. How could it—?” When she offered him her best sympathetic smile, he stopped and turned back to the window. “How long have you known?”

“Took me a while to figure it out. Alarming, since I’m in law enforcement and we speak almost every day. But I’ve known for a couple of years now.”

He scoffed. “Years.”