It didn’t faze her. “I like your name. I’m going to name my firstborn after you. Is that okay?”
“That’s so sweet,” Sun said before coming to her senses. “Wait a minute. You’ve already named your firstborn? When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”
The minx flashed her a grin of pure mischief.
“Well, what if you have a girl? Ramses is a little gender-specific.”
Auri giggled, pushed the cup closer to the interviewee, and left the room.
“Wait, this isn’t going to happen anytime soon, right?” When she still didn’t get an answer, she yelled, “I know where you live, Cruz!”
Her prisoner ignored the drink and kept his razor-sharp gaze averted, but she had a feeling he didn’t miss much.
“You gonna try your hot chocolate?”
He finally offered her his attention, but not in a good way. If looks could kill and all.
The grin she felt spread across her face surely rivaled anything Jack Nicholson could have conjured. She leaned forward and whispered, “Try the hot chocolate.”
He scalded her with a heated glare, but couldn’t help himself. He looked at the cup. Auri had written his name on it in thick black marker.
His name.
Not his brother’s.
Poetry Rojas looked back at Sunshine, his poker face in shambles.
He’d have to work on that.
“What is this?”
“I know who you are.”
He sneered at her. “You have no idea who I am.”
“Maybe, but I know who you’re not, and you are not Ramses Rojas.”
He held on to his sneer for dear life, but she could see it starting to give.
“Because he was picked up a couple of days ago when he fell asleep in his getaway car after robbing a Loaf ’N Jug just outside of Santa Fe.”
His sneer faltered.
“And I’m fairly certain he did it on purpose.”
His gaze dropped to the picture she slid across the table.
“The latest mug shot.”
An involuntary parting of the lips told Sun that his brother being arrested was about the last thing he’d expected to hear that day.
“It’s nice to meet you, Poetry.”
When she’d first read his name, Poetry Romaine Rojas, she’d wondered if it were a typo and they’d entered his street name. As luck would have it, that was his actual name, straight off his birth certificate. His mother was apparently very into literature. And salads. And it would explain his only known alias: Lettuce.
If Sun’s plan succeeded, she was so calling him that.
From what she could uncover between her research—which she stayed up half the night doing—and Royce Womack’s investigation, Darlene Tapia used to watch them when he and his twin brother were growing up in Albuquerque. She’d lived next door. And she was about the only family they had after their parents died, but because she wasn’t actually related and she didn’t meet the criteria to become a foster parent, they went into the system and she never saw them again.
Until a few weeks ago.
Poetry leaned on his elbows and pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes.
She leaned over and unlocked the cuffs.
He removed them and then covered his eyes again.
“I’m sorry about your brother.”
Overcome with emotion, he only shook his head.
“I just have one question for you. How the hell did you do it?”
He cleared his throat and said, “Sorry for the act.”
“The tough-guy act? I’m sure it came in handy in prison.”
He raised a brow. “You could say that.”
“But really, how the hell did you pull this off? Your fingerprints wouldn’t match your brother’s, and yet you went to prison for him? For three years? Why? Did he have something on you?”
His laugh held more sadness than humor. “You said you just had one question.”
“I’m sorry.” Sun had to admit, this was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen during her entire career in law enforcement.
He showed her his hands. More to the point, his fingerprints. They were covered in scars. “I chew them. You know, to hide my prints. The COs used to laugh at me. They’d remind me I was already in prison. I was already convicted. No use in trying to hide my identity now.”
“I’m stunned you pulled this off. I’m beyond stunned.”
“They don’t care, you know? It’s not like they compare your fingerprints once they have you. You could be the pope, as long as they have someone in that bed come lights-out.”
“But how did you even end up in your brother’s place?”
“He was out on bail. He skipped. I was mistaken for him and hauled in right before the trial.”
“So, you just went with it? You let them believe you were your brother? That you’d committed armed robbery?”
“I owed him.”
“You spent three years in prison for something you didn’t do. You did time for your brother.”
“What was I going to do? Rat him out? I got busted. They thought I was him. I just let them.”
“I am astoundingly impressed.”
“Don’t be.”
“I hope he knows how lucky he is.”
“He’s not that lucky. We all have penance to pay.”
“That we do, Poetry.”
“How did you know?” he asked her, seeming impressed himself.
“The footage from the transport van and the mug shot.”
“What about them?”
She slid some screenshots to him. “You guys did a good job keeping your tats identical, but you must’ve gotten a new one in prison.” She pointed behind her ear, indicating the cross he had that ran from behind his down the side of this neck.
“You caught that? Damn.”
“Well, that and you’ve clearly eaten better than he has. He’s gaunt compared to you.”
He looked at the mug shot again. “He doesn’t look well.”
“Maybe prison will do him good? Get him clean?”
“Prison doesn’t do anyone any good.” He took a drink of the hot chocolate. “Your kid’s pretty great.”
“Yes, she is.”
“So, is that why you dragged me in here? To gloat?”
“No, I can gloat anytime. Would you like to see your brother? I can arrange it. On one condition.”
He’d gone from intrigued to wary in the time it took to snap. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“I have an opening. I need a deputy.”
He stilled again, only this time, his expression would suggest he was questioning her sanity. Why were people always doing that?
“You have the instincts. You clearly have the guts. You’re levelheaded AF. You have a bachelor’s in criminal justice. You’re like the poster child for entry-level law enforcement.”
“Right, only you forgot a couple of things. I’m a convicted felon. And I just spent three years in prison.”
“No. Your brother is a convicted felon. You haven’t spent a single day inside. You’ve never even been arrested. I checked.”
He took another swig and shook his head. “Look, I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’m not your guy.”
“You saved that little girl’s life.”
His surprise shone through in glowing Technicolor. “That wasn’t—I didn’t mean—that wasn’t what it looked like.”
“You didn’t jump off a cliff onto a frozen lake to save a little girl’s life?”
“Yeah, but it’s not like I gave it a lot of thought. It just happened.”
She held out her hand. “Welcome to the force, Deputy Rojas. I’m your sheriff, Sunshine Vicram.”
A set of dimples emerged when he offered her the barest hint of an astonished smile. He took her hand. “I can’t believe this.”
“I know. Aren’t they soft? I use extra moisturizing lotion. A girl can’t be too moisturized these days.”
Quincy appeared at the door. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said to him. “That you’re the only identical twin on the force. Nope. Me and Zee. It’ll be hard to tell us apart at first, but you’ll get used to it.” He flashed Rojas a thumbs-up, then left.
“Hey, isn’t Zee the one with the rifle?”
“Yes.”
“So, they’re not really—”
“No.”
He nodded and looked around the place, sizing it up. “Do I have to wear a uniform?”
“Yes.”
* * *
Despite the fact that the Del Sol County Sheriff’s Station brimmed with people of all shapes and sizes, many dressed in black, the atmosphere was subdued and somber. A woman in her late thirties held on to two small children with one hand and a tissue with the other, while others in the room stood with hands folded as they waited.
Sun nodded to her dispatch.
Anita pressed the button on the mic. “Dispatch to two-seven-two.”
The room went completely silent. Moments passed as people waited with a solemn respect.
Anita tried again. “Dispatch to unit two-seven-two.”
The woman in black buried her face in Quincy’s lapel and sobbed. He picked up her youngest child, then hugged her to him, fighting back tears himself.
Anita’s fingers curled around the mic, her knuckles white. “Final call for unit two-seven-two, Lieutenant Bobby Beauregard Britton.” She didn’t wait as long this time. Her emotions barely contained, her voice cracked when she came on one last time. “Two-seven-two is ten-seven. Badge number fourteen-twelve is at end of watch. Rest in peace, Lieutenant. You will be missed.”
The deputies gathered around Mrs. Britton to offer their condolences. Sun took Auri’s hand, her daughter’s eyes shimmering with unspent tears. Cruz scooted closer to her to offer his support as well.
Zee walked up just as Auri and Cruz stole away to a corner, ostensibly to check their phones.
“Mrs. Moore brought muffins,” Zee said, gesturing toward the lobby.
Sun looked over at the giant basket of the cursed pastries, wondering what could possibly be next.
“According to the muffin count, the world is going to end sometime in the next week.”
“Great,” Sun said.
Zee gave her a quick hug before heading toward the widow.
A woman spoke beside her. “This was quite beautiful.”
Sun turned to see Mayor Lomas standing next to her, holding a paper cup of something red. “Mayor. Thanks for coming.”
She nodded, the tips of her bob brushing the tops of her shoulders. “Of course. Have you thought any more about my offer?”
“Offer?” she asked, confused. “Oh, you mean ultimatum? Find out who the mythical Dangerous Daughters are or else you’ll expose my sordid past?” She leaned closer to the pretty blonde. “I think some high school kids beat you to the punch.”
A sly smile stole across her face. “Oh, I bet there’s more. Something you don’t want getting out. Am I right?”
What on earth could she know?
“I just hope you find them. You know, for Auri’s sake.”
A wildfire erupted in Sun’s core. “Did you just threaten my daughter?”
“Why would I do that?” she asked, then turned to walk away.
She went to stop the woman when a shadow slid over her. She looked up and into the startlingly handsome face of Levi Ravinder.
Drawing in a deep, calming breath, she said, “Pretty brave, Ravinder. You showing up here since we never finished processing your arrest.”
“He was a friend.” Clean-shaven, possibly for the first time in years, he wore a charcoal jacket and a black button-down that set off the darkness in his hair and contrasted with the warmth of his amber eyes.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said. “You left in a hurry the other night.”
“I had places to be. Are you going to charge me or not?”
“With a felony count of having places to be?”
“With murder.”
“Ah. We’re still investigating.”
“Well, let me know.”
“You’ll be the first.” Her focus kept wandering to the hand wrapped around a coffee cup from Caffeine-Wah, his long fingers dark against the white paper. When it looked like he was going to leave, she said, “I didn’t get a chance to thank you. For the other night. You went above and beyond, and I’m not sure how to repay you.”
He turned her jaw to get a better look at the thin red line across her neck. His touch sent a shock wave of electricity shooting through her.
His amber eyes glistened as he studied the wound. “I was almost too late.”
“Almost is okay. I’m good with almost. I saw your truck parked at Barbie’s this morning.” Barbie was an amazing mechanic. “I hope everything is okay.”
“Routine.”
“I would offer you a ride home, but I don’t think you’d want your family seeing me drop you off.”
The look he planted on her, glittering and dark, sent a warmth spiraling through her entire body until it pooled deep in her abdomen. He leaned closer and asked, “What have I ever done that would make you believe I give a single, solitary fuck what my family thinks?”
Auri’s voice wafted toward them, breaking the spell he’d temporarily placed her under. “Hi, Levi.”
He tore his gaze away and offered her daughter his complete attention. “Hey, Red.”
“You clean up well,” she said, and Sun almost snorted.
He flashed her a blinding smile and pulled her into a hug. “Back atcha.”
She beamed at him, and Sun saw something there. Something pure and unconditional. Her daughter loved him. Possibly as much as Sun did, though in a very different way.
Zee walked up then and gestured a greeting to Auri with a nod before giving Sun her attention. “Sheriff, can we talk in your office?”
Quincy stood behind her. Auri left Levi’s embrace long enough to give Quincy a hug, then she returned to Levi and summoned Cruz with a wave. “This is Cruz,” she said to him.
Levi gave the kid a once-over, then, as though Cruz had met his approval, offered his hand.
“Mr. Ravinder,” Cruz said. “I like your moonshine.” When Levi lifted a brow, he rushed to add, “Not the taste. I’ve never tried it. I don’t drink.” He cast a nervous glance at Sun. “I mean, the fact that you sell moonshine. Legitimately. Without that whole crossing-state-lines and revenue-men-knocking-down-your-door thing.”
“Yes,” Levi said, his eyes shimmering with humor. “That does help.”
Before she burst out laughing, Sun turned to Auri. “I’ll be back in a jiff.”
Her daughter let out a loud sigh. “The demands of being a sheriff. We’re going to run over to Caffeine-Wah and pry the truth out of Richard and Ricky if it’s the last thing we do.”
“The truth?” Levi asked.
“They have a supersecret eyeliner trick we’ve been trying to steal for years.”
“Ah.”
Sun laughed softly and leaned in for a hug. “Give ’em hell, and remember—”
Auri raised a hand to stop her. “I know what you’re going to say. If they refuse to spill this time, replace their cans of tuna with cat food and threaten to turn them in to the health department.”
“Attagirl.”
Levi grinned at Auri, the affection in his eyes genuine, and Sun could hardly believe he’d been a part of her life for years. A positive part of her life.
She offered him a quick nod, then led Zee and Quincy into her office. After closing the door behind them, she sat at her desk.
Zee didn’t sit down. She handed Sun a report. “It seems a kid was injured a few years ago. He went into the urgent care center and was treated for stab wounds.”
“Okay,” she said, scanning the document.
“The guy had AB
negative. Same as the blood on Kubrick Ravinder’s clothes.”
Sun’s gaze shot to her face, then back to the report. “Who was it?”
“That’s just it. They don’t know.” She pointed to the chart that showed where the stab wounds were. Three lacerations clustered just underneath his left rib cage. “The kid gave them a false name. They had no choice but to take him into surgery immediately. Then the minute he woke up, he bolted.”
“Security footage?” Sun asked.
Zee shook her head. “Not back then.”
Small towns. And Del Sol was smaller than most. “How did you get this chart?”
“Well, see, this is where things get a little sticky.”
Quincy sat across from Sun and whistled. “Uh-oh, sibling o’ mine. Whatever did you do?”
She cleared her throat and said softly, “I may know a guy.”
“Like, carnally?” he asked.
“Quincy,” Sun said, her tone exasperated, “I am going to rip out your thyroid.”
“Right. My bad.”
The woman was clearly having a difficult time coming to terms with what she’d done. Quincy was not helping. “Go ahead, Zee.”
“So, yeah, I kind of asked him to look up people in the area with AB negative blood. Without a warrant.”
“Thinking outside the box. And?”
“There are only three, barring Auri, and two of them could never have fought with a man the size of Kubrick Ravinder and lived to see another day.”
“Why’s that?”
“He couldn’t give me their names, of course, but I told him the circumstances and he said one was a ninety-year-old female who’d had two hip replacements and the other would have been no more than six at the time of Kubrick Ravinder’s death.”
“Oh yeah. That does narrow it down a bit. So, we’re left with this kid?”
“Yes. Look at the date,” Zee said softly.
She scanned the admittance date. The same day, over fifteen years ago, that an unidentified male dropped Sun off at an emergency room in Santa Fe.
Quincy rounded the desk and stood reading over her shoulder. “The question we need to be asking ourselves is, was this kid a part of the kidnapping scheme or not?”
“Exactly,” Zee agreed. “Did he endanger your life, Sheriff, or save it?”
* * *
A Bad Day for Sunshine--A Novel Page 37
