A Bad Day for Sunshine (Sunshine Vicram #1) - Darynda Jones Page 0,40

city teeming with the strange and bizarre?

Despite the fact that most of the stories were just hype, there was always that 1 percent. That narrow margin of the unexplained that left her questioning the world she grew up in.

And now this. She just didn’t know what to think, and as the new sheriff, that was not a good place to be. She couldn’t be the indecisive schoolgirl anymore, no matter what coming back to Del Sol did to her psyche.

Once Mari had calmed a bit and taken a drink of the water Quincy brought, Sun began. “Okay, Mari, I need to know everything. When did this start?”

“She was six, I think. She’d had a nightmare like all kids do, but this one changed her.” She focused a laser-like gaze on Sun. “She was never the same after that. Her whole world began to revolve around her fifteenth birthday. She’s told us since she was a kid she would never grow up. Never graduate high school. Never date a boy. We just thought she was being melodramatic.” She dropped her face into the wad of tissues in her hands and let the sobs take over.

“Start from the beginning, Mari. What exactly did she tell you that night? I just need whatever you can remember.”

Mari’s story confirmed everything they’d learned from the letter. Unfortunately, that’s all it did. She had no information beyond it. But Sun still had a thousand questions.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this earlier?”

Mari scoffed. “Would you have believed me?” Before Sun could answer, she said, “I wouldn’t have. It was my own daughter, and I didn’t believe her. Can you imagine growing up like that? With an image of your own death in your head and your parents, the people you are supposed to depend on the most, are the last people on earth to believe you?” She broke down, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. “What have we done?”

Sun let the wave die down before asking her next question. “Mari, when Sybil went missing a few days ago—”

“She was trying to hide out. She thought if she stayed hidden until after her birthday, the threat would pass. But we found her and dragged her back home.”

Sorrow took control again, and Sun turned to Quincy. “Does Doc Finely still make house calls?”

Quincy nodded. “He’s mostly retired, but he will take an occasional query.”

“Why don’t we see if we can get him here.” Quince took out his phone, but she leaned closer and added, “And tell him to bring Valium.”

“Gotcha.” He left the room to make the call.

Sun refocused on Mari. “I don’t want you to take our looking into these events as a sign that we are buying this. I need you to be aware of the fact that we must, as law enforcement officers, consider the fact that this is all an elaborate scheme.” It didn’t matter how much Sun believed the girl; it was her job to follow the evidence. Not her hunches.

At first, Mari started to argue with her, but her own guilt stopped her. Sun could read it on her face.

“Also, just so you know, a wanted fugitive has been spotted in the area. Have you seen anyone hanging about? Perhaps lurking along the tree line?”

Although her eyes were wide with worry, she shook her head. “No. I haven’t seen anyone. Do you think—?”

“No. We don’t. But we can’t rule anything out yet.”

She nodded, then her eyes widened. “The diary! She kept a diary. Maybe there’s something in there that will help.”

That had been next on Sun’s list. “Do you know where it is?”

Without answering, Mari rushed upstairs, almost stumbling in her enthusiasm. Sun followed her to make sure she didn’t disturb anything.

She lifted a mattress covered in pink and produced a small journal with hearts on it. “She’s been keeping a journal since she was a kid.”

After slipping on some gloves, Sun took it and placed it inside an evidence bag. “Once it’s processed, I’ll go through it. See if there are any clues that weren’t in her letter.”

“Thank you,” Mari said, “for taking this seriously even if you don’t believe it.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. And your daughter seems amazing.”

“She is,” she said, her eyes tearing up again.

Sun helped Mari to the living room to lie down on the sofa in case Sybil walked through the front door. She’d seen it a dozen times: Parents keeping a constant vigil on doors or windows overlooking the street, hoping for a glimpse