A Good Day for Chardonnay (Sunshine Vicram #2) - Darynda Jones Page 0,7
for her, because she would never have found him otherwise.
“How are you doing, Rojas?”
He leaned back in the chair, still a tad untrusting of the situation, and possibly of her, and said evasively, “I’m good.”
“Your scores were excellent at the academy.” Like she knew they would be.
“Thanks.”
“No, thank you. It makes me look good.”
He nodded and she realized getting past the barriers he’d built in prison for a crime he didn’t commit would take some time. That was okay. She just happened to have some extra time.
“Do you have any questions? Complaints? Concerns?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I do have one concern, if you’re asking.”
She took another sip. “I’m asking.”
He took a moment to consider his words, then said, “I think you got the wrong guy.”
“I doubt it. I haven’t arrested anyone in days,” she teased. The statement didn’t surprise her. Rojas had been questioning her decision to blackmail him into joining the team since she’d first done it four months earlier.
He sat up straighter in agitation. “What happens if I can’t solve a case or if someone gets away on my watch or if I make a mistake and someone dies because of it?” He dropped his gaze to study his hands. “What if I fail?”
His misgivings only strengthened Sun’s conviction that she’d made the right decision. She would’ve been worried were he not questioning his ability to do the job. “You will fail.”
He fixed her with a guarded stare.
“You will make mistakes.” She leaned forward and spoke softly. “You will regret decisions you made because hindsight is twenty-twenty. But you’ll learn from them and do better next time.”
“You don’t make mistakes.”
“Trust me, I do. On a daily basis.”
He shook his head. “I’ve read your clearance rate from when you were a detective in Santa Fe. Ninety-seven percent. That’s almost unheard of. If you do make mistakes, you don’t make many.”
“Maybe I’m just really good at fixing them before they become an issue,” she offered, but she had the feeling he was referring to something a little more specific. Maybe something he’d done in the past that made him question his position. When he asked his next question, she was sure of it.
“Do any of them haunt you?”
“Yes.”
Too much of a gentleman to ask her which ones, he nodded but kept silent, so she explained. He needed to know she was far from perfect. Everyone was. “My very first case as a detective.”
He leaned onto his elbows, his interest piqued.
“Missing boy. The father on trial for securities fraud. The mother a puddle of nerves.”
“What happened?”
The tightening in her chest proved she was still not over it. Over him. A five-year-old boy with huge brown eyes and a nuclear smile. He’d haunted her dreams for seven years. “He … we never found him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. Just know, Rojas, we can’t win them all. We do the best with what we have and try to make it home to our loved ones every night.” When he only nodded, unconvinced, she added, “And I chose you for a reason. Never doubt that. But if you need to talk about anything, you know where I live.”
“Thanks, boss.”
Zee walked into the station, dart gun in hand, and Rojas almost broke his neck to get a clear view.
He nodded a hello as she walked past the office door, then said, “That girl can shoot.”
“Yes, she can.”
“Remind me not to piss her off.”
“Don’t piss her off.” Sun motioned Quincy back into the office when he questioned her with a wave. “I think we both need to stay on the straight and narrow where Zee is concerned.”
“She would never shoot me,” Quincy said as he walked in to hand her a form that needed her signature. “What with us being twins and all.”
Rojas scoffed. “You’ve clearly never had a real sibling.”
Quincy scratched his brow with his middle finger as Sun studied the form.
Rojas chuckled.
Oh yeah, they were going to get along great.
“Is raccoon chow even a real thing?” she asked when she looked over the new expenditures Quince was trying to sneak through.
Before he could answer, Salazar walked into the office and spotted the sleeping prisoner. “Oooooh,” she cooed, rushing forward and poking her finger through the bars. Sun made a mental note to schedule wildlife training ASAP. “He’s so cute.”
“I call dibs on partner-in-petty-crimes,” Quince said.
Salazar pouted, her baby face appearing even younger. “I’m never going to get a partner-in-petty-crimes. I even wished for one on a shooting star when I was a kid.”