The EMTs rushed the man past her and Quincy, and Sun couldn’t help but notice he’d been handcuffed to the gurney.
“Hey, bug. Whatcha doing?”
“Reflecting on how badly I want to be Beth Dutton when I grow up.”
“Beth Dutton? I thought Lisbeth Salander was your hero.”
“Oh, she is. But Beth is my kindred spirit. I’m thinking about combining the two of them, sprinkling in a little Ellen Ripley, and morphing into a badass. But I need more real-world experience if I’m going to rise to Beth’s level of quick comebacks. I wonder if there’s a class I could take.”
“Perhaps, but for now I think we should hold off on some of her more colorful phrases until you’re older.”
“I guess. So what’s up?”
“Do you want to tell me why you were upset today?”
“I wasn’t … How did you know?”
“Bug, I can always tell when you’ve been crying.”
“Is that like a sheriff thing?”
“No, it’s like a mom thing. What gives?”
“I wasn’t going to tell you until you got home.”
“I could be late with this case.”
“Oh, the case. So, I thought the girl Mr. Essary found might be Lynelle’s cousin who never showed up after her finals, but then Whitney texted Lynelle and said she’d gone skiing in Colorado with some friends. What’s wrong with that picture?”
Sun almost laughed as a couple of cops hurried past, following the gurney. Clearly her daughter was picking up a lot from her. “Well, first it was a text and not an actual phone call.”
“Exactly. Anyone could have sent it. And two?”
“It’s a little late in the season to go snow skiing. Even in Colorado.”
“Bingo. It just seems really suspish.”
“I agree.” Her daughter could be onto something. Then again, she usually was. “How do you know Lynelle’s cousin never showed up and then texted her? Are you guys talking now?”
“Not hardly,” she said with a snort. “I overheard a conversation last week before … before everything happened.” Before she and Cruz walked in on a robbery and almost died. “I tried to talk to Lynelle at school, but she’d stayed home to take care of a sick friend, so I went by her house during lunch.”
“Who was the friend?”
“Tim Redding.”
“The former sheriff’s son?”
“Yes. Only he wasn’t sick, Mom. He was covered in bruises and his right eye was swollen almost shut. Like someone hit him.”
Alarm bells once again rang in her ears as she and Quince locked gazes. “You’re sure it was his right eye?”
“Yes. If someone did hit him, he was a southpaw.”
Holy crap, Sun was going to have to be more careful. The kid didn’t miss a thing. But what were the odds of two lefties beating up two kids in her county around the same time?
“That would narrow it down, right? If he was a southpaw?”
“It would. I’ll check into it.”
“You can’t tell Tim I told you, though. I don’t want him to think I betrayed a secret.”
“Of course not.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Is that why you were upset today? Because of Tim?”
“What? Oh, no, it’s not. I just … I mean, I feel bad for him. Don’t get me wrong. But I’m mostly worried about Cruz.”
“Cruz? Did something happen?”
“He wrote a poem.”
She released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Isn’t that his thing?”
“Not like this. Not … It came from a very dark place.”
Sun’s chest tightened around her heart.
“It came from that dark place.”
Sun nodded and stared pointedly at Quince. “We’ll check into it, bug. We’ll get him help. I promise.”
“Okay. Granddad went to check on him for now and Sybil is coming over so we can do some research.”
“For school?”
Auri snorted, reminding Sun who she was talking to. “Not even. I’ll find a pic of Lynelle’s cousin Whitney and shoot it to you. Just in case. And we’re going to check all the ski lodges. See if any of them are still open.”
“All right, but no more interviews, hear me? I’ll follow up.”
“Aye-aye, Cap’n.”
“And stay out of my pirate romances.”
“Mom, I tore through your collection two years ago. I’ve been raiding Grandma’s stash.”
“Grandma has a stash of pirate romances?”
“And cowboys and vampires and there’s this one series about a female grim reaper who’s in love with the son of—”
“Wait a minute. How spicy are these books?”
“If they were green chile, they would’ve been harvested during a drought.” The drier the season, the hotter the chile.
“Auri, you are too young for books like that.”
“Grandma already told me how old you were when you started sneaking her romance novels.”
Damn it. That woman was going to give her a bad rep. “That’s hardly the point.”
“It’s entirely the point. And it’s a really sharp one, too.”
“How’s your submissive hemogoblin?”
“Mom,” Auri said, her voice irritated. Like from drain cleaner. Or battery acid.
“Auri,” Sun countered.
“I know.”
“You know what?”
“I know that’s not what it’s called. It’s not a submissive hemogoblin. It’s a submissive hemo-glow-bin. Glow. I’ve been saying it wrong this whole time.”
“Really?” Sun asked, infusing her voice with as much surprise as possible.
“You know I have. And it’s not even really called that.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s it called then?”
“Well, I don’t know but not that. And you never told me. What if I’d gone to medical school? I would’ve been a laughing stock.”
Kid had a point. She and Quincy both fought a grin as she said, “I’m sorry, hon.”
“I can hear the laughter in your voice, Mom.”
“What?”
“Are you laughing, too, Quincy?”
He sobered instantly. “No way, kiddo. I’m on your side. Your mom is a sadist.”
“Thank you. From now on I’m just calling it what it is. A percussion.”
“Actually,” Quincy began, but Sun slammed a hand over his mouth and pressed the phone to her chest.
After taking a moment to glare at him, she whispered, “Don’t you dare take this from me.” She grabbed his collar and shook him. Or tried to. If he weren’t made of rebar and concrete, she would’ve succeeded. “I demand to be entertained.”
“You are pure evil,” he whispered back.
“What did I say wrong this time?” Auri said, still on speakerphone.
“Nothing sweetheart.”
“Mom.”
“Oh, look. The doctor is here. Talk to you later, hon.”
“Mothe—”