A Good Day for Chardonnay (Sunshine Vicram #2) - Darynda Jones Page 0,112

she noticed the wetness shimmering in his eyes. “Quince?”

“Apparently,” he said, his voice cracking, his expression full of sorrow, “his father had a stroke when they were camping near Angel Fire during spring break.”

“What?” She thought back. “That was weeks ago. Is he okay?”

Sun knew Chris De los Santos, but Quincy had been friends with him. He covered his eyes and his breath hitched in his chest.

“Quincy, no.”

“Cruz carried him more than two miles to their truck and took him to a hospital in Taos, but it was too late. He died before they got there.”

“No.”

Quincy broke. A sob escaped and his shoulders shook. He had to turn away. “They said it took them four hours to get Cruz to let go of him.”

“No.” The floodgates opened. “No wonder he wouldn’t let Auri go,” she said, covering her face with her hands. How much more could that kid take?

“He has no one,” Quincy said.

“No, he has a grandfather, right? In Riley’s Switch? He works construction with him in the summers.”

Quincy shook his head. “That’s who I’ve been talking to. When I couldn’t get a hold of Chris, I called Philip, but Philip isn’t his biological grandfather. He was Chris’s foster dad.” His voice cracked and Sun rubbed his back. “He helped with the cremation and asked Cruz to live with him, but Cruz said he wanted to stay with some friends until school let out. He told him he was staying with Chris’s best friend.”

“Who is that?”

“Me, apparently,” he said right before he broke completely. He walked out, struggling to breathe.

Sun turned to Levi. He looked as astonished and heartbroken and crushed as Sun felt. She didn’t know how close he and Chris had been, but they’d been friends. She knew that much, because Levi was friends with all the cool people in town, and Chris De los Santos was one of the coolest.

He stood as though his body would no longer allow him to sit. She took one look at him, at the devastation etched into his face, and wanted nothing more than to console him. To make all of this go away. Instead, he strode past her as though worried he would break completely.

A nurse came in before she could go after him. Though he was Auri’s critical-care nurse, Sun had asked him to find out what he could about Mrs. Fairborn. “They admitted Mrs. Fairborn for observation,” he said, checking Auri’s IV and taking some readings.

“Are you going to be right here for the next little bit?” she asked him.

“Absolutely. I won’t leave this station if you need to grab something to eat.”

“Actually, is there some place I could take a shower?”

“Sure thing, Sheriff.”

Fifteen minutes later, Sun set her emergency bag on the closed toilet seat and combed through it until she found her toothbrush. The nurse found her a shower she could use down the hall from ICU, God bless him. The fragile threads holding her together were starting to fray. The seams ripping apart. The worn edges starting to show.

She brushed her teeth, then stepped into a shower so hot it would blister her skin. Why didn’t Cruz say anything? How could the father of a minor in her town die and she not know about it? Shouldn’t someone have let her know?

Cruz must have felt so alone. In turmoil and agony. And he had no one. The image of him refusing to let Auri go after having to let go of his father forever almost broke her. It stung her eyes and burned her throat.

The totality of the last several days hit her at once. She sank to the floor, as the scalding water rushed over her, and pressed both hands to her mouth to silence the sobs racking her body. And then she cried. Until her eyes swelled. Until her muscles ached. Until her stomach heaved. She cried until someone knocked on the door, the sound so soft she almost didn’t hear it.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” she said a microsecond before she realized it could be someone with news of Auri.

She grabbed the towel they’d loaned her, wrapped it loosely around her body, then went to the door. Levi stood on the other side.

“Auri?”

He shook his head. “She’s still asleep. You’ve been in here a while. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Of course,” she said between hiccups. She averted her face, suddenly self-conscious. She was a sheriff. She needed to start acting like one. “I’m almost done if