A Bad Day for Sunshine (Sunshine Vicram #1) - Darynda Jones Page 0,59
gait, tall and painfully thin wearing a dark jacket, baseball cap, and sunglasses. And he bought an energy drink. He paid cash. It was a nail-biter. A real edge-of-the-seater. Then he walked out.
Unfortunately, the cameras outside were not working, so they didn’t get a description of the vehicle he drove.
She checked the records they sent over for every gas purchase in case the guy filled up and wrote down the names for Anita to cross-check with the parameters set.
“Burrito,” Zee said.
“Want some?” Sun asked, inviting her into the office with a wave.
“Nah. Just signing off. What do you got?”
“Surveillance footage.”
“Fun.” She stepped closer. “Want me to run those names?”
“Nope. I need you fresh tomorrow, too.”
“I don’t mind.”
Sun grinned at her. “I know.” Zee started to leave, when Sun stopped her. “Are you sorry you took this job yet?”
“Please.” She waved a dismissive hand. “I love this weird little town. And I’m thinking about asking Doug out.”
“The flasher? I heard he’s a great kisser.”
“I bet he is.”
“So,” Sun said, hedging a subject that did not need to be hedged, “you and Quincy.”
“Ew. We’re siblings. Twins, even. How can you . . . ? Why would you . . . ? He is cute, though.” Her dark skin practically glowed with appreciation.
“He is, and he’s one of the good ones, but if you tell him I said that, I’ll seek revenge. I’m not above threatening you with a grapefruit spoon.”
“They make spoons for grapefruit?”
“They do. They’re really cool. Serrated.”
“Nice. Welp, off to get my beauty rest.”
“Wait,” Sun said, leaning closer to the computer screen.
“Okay.”
The problem with surveillance cameras were they usually had horrible resolution. This footage was no exception, so it took a minute to figure out what she was seeing. “Check this out.”
Zee leaned down. “What are we looking at?”
“Okay, this is the guy who bought the energy drink.”
She raised her brows in surprise. “Wow. Older than I’d thought.”
“Right? It would have taken someone younger to pull off the abduction. Getting a fourteen-year-old through a window without making a sound?”
“He had to have drugged her, but even with that in mind—”
“Exactly,” Sun said. “It would have taken a lot of strength to get her out of that window and to carry her to a waiting vehicle, which had to be out of range of the St. Aubins’ cameras.”
“True, and look.” Zee pointed. “He’s limping.”
“He could be faking it, but I don’t think so. Look what he does next.”
In the corner of the screen, almost out of camera range, the man tossed the receipt into the trash can.
Zee stood back. “No way. Our one and only lead was planted?”
“Son of a bitch.” Sun wanted to say much worse, but held back. “Anyone could have accessed that trash can. We need the footage of it for the rest of the day, until it was dumped.”
“Even then, they could have gotten it out of the Dumpster out back.”
“Motherfucker,” she said, going for the gold. “Price!”
The bespectacled deputy Lonnie Price appeared at her door instantly.
“Get over to the Quick-Mart. I want the records of every single purchase made in that store for the last two days, starting after this one.” She handed him a copy of the receipt. “And I want all the footage.”
“You got it, Sheriff.”
He left, and Zee sat in the seat across from her. “You okay?”
“We’re being played, I just can’t figure out what’s real and what isn’t.”
“The letter?”
She nodded. “It’s Sybil’s handwriting. I checked it against the diary.”
“Do you think this is all a ploy of some kind?”
Sun sat back and raked her fingers through her hair, dislodging thick locks from her already frayed French braid. “I wish I knew, but we certainly can’t let that doubt taint our investigation.”
Zee stood to walk out.
“Right, sorry,” Sun said, having kept her. “Thanks, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
After a soft laugh, Zee shrugged into her jacket and said, “Oh, I’m not leaving. Well, I am, but I’m going to be right back. Caffeine-Wah. Place your order now, or I’m coming back with an iced caramel almond milk macchiato.”
“Oh, god no.” When Zee grinned at her in question, she said, “Real milk. And make it hot.”
“You got it, Sheriff.”
Under the guise of changing clothes, Auri went to the apartment and, well, changed clothes. But she also snuck onto her mother’s computer and logged on to the sheriff’s database. A place she definitely should not be logged on to.
She ran checks on everyone she knew for certain was in Sybil’s life, including her