“Really? Because it was, like, two weeks ago.”
“Weird, but okay, you’re right. It is a social construct. A social one and an FBI one. They check. Trust me. You do not want to get through the whole process only to be rejected because you allowed your sin cave to be spelunked prematurely.”
She grabbed her phone back and picked up her backpack. “I am so out of here.”
“’Kay. Make good choices!” she yelled as Auri got out of the cruiser.
Three kids had been standing around waiting for her to get out. Young kids dressed like tiny rappers.
“Yo, Ariana,” one of them said.
Auri laughed. “My real name is actually Aurora,” she said before closing the door.
These kids were no more than nine or ten, but Auri treated them with such kindness. She stood and talked to them as they waited for their bus. If Sun hadn’t been in labor for thirty-two hours and then given birth to a copper-headed wailing bowling ball, she would’ve sworn her daughter was an alien from another planet. They were only a few hours from Roswell. It could happen.
She pulled out of the drop-off area and called Quince.
“How’s the kid?” he asked in lieu of saying hello.
“Well, we talked about her sin cave and how boys were only out to spelunk it.”
“You did not.”
“Did too.”
“I meant Cruz, but thanks for that update.”
“Oh, he’s still asleep. He tossed and turned all night. What the hell did that doctor give him?”
“Vicodin.”
“Holy cow. No wonder he could barely walk last night. Auri said he flushed the rest and my mom is staying with him today, just to make sure he doesn’t have any side effects.”
“Your mom? Maybe I should go over, too.”
“Nice try, Romeo. I need you to check Whitney’s socials. She posted pics from her trip. I’ll be there in five.”
“You got it.”
By the time she walked into the station, latte from Caffeine-Wah in hand, Quincy was already shaking his head.
“What? How I teach my daughter about the facts of life is my business. You need to think about having a talk with that little spelunker before—”
“No, the new pics on Whitney Amaia’s Insta,” he said, cutting off my rant. “They’re from a year ago.”
Sun stashed her bag in her office and hurried to his desk.
“That was my first clue,” he said, pointing to a sign in the background that read SKI APACHE. “That’s near Ruidoso. Nowhere near the Arapahoe resort.”
“And it’s closed,” she added.
“Yep, so I did some scrolling. Some of the pics have never been on any of her socials before, but this one has.” He stopped at a pic of Whitney eating a snow cone on a mountain top. “And look at her hair. These are from different years.”
“So, someone has her phone. We need to ping it.”
“Already on it, boss,” Rojas said. “It’s been turned off. Whoever’s doing this could have her laptop, as well, but I did find out Whitney Amaia’s college roommate stayed on over the summer break as an RA, so she’s still there.”
“Nice,” she said, giving him a thumbs-up. “Find out where those pics came from.” She looked at Quince. “We’re going to talk to the roommate.”
Quince stood, but before they could head out, Anita let a ruffian into the bullpen. Sun looked up and watched Keith Seabright walk in.
“You here to start already?”
He laughed. “I’m here to see how serious you are.”
“Dead.”
“Okay, then. Rojas is going to give me the lowdown on the academy and Anita is going to give me the paperwork to fill out. I start classes next month.”
Quincy walked over and took the man’s hand in a firm shake. “Good to have you on board. Have you seen Ravinder lately? I still need to arrest him.”
Seabright laughed. “Not today.”
Sun perked up. “But you know where he’s staying?”
He shook his head. “Sorry, Sheriff.”
“Is this a bros-before-hos thing?”
“No,” he said, flashing her a wickedly handsome grin. “This is an I-don’t-know-where-his-secret-hideout-is thing.”
“Figures. Are you going to be ready for the academy that soon?” She gestured toward his torso. The same torso that had been stabbed multiple times. It had been a strange couple of weeks.
“I will be if it means a job.”
She stepped closer and looked up at him, only just realizing he was almost as tall as Levi. “Don’t push yourself. We can hold off on the academy and put you behind a desk until you’re able to go.”
“Do I look like a desk kind of guy?” As a former Army Ranger, he really didn’t.
“Okay, then. You guys have fun.”
“Will do, boss,” Rojas said, suddenly frowning at his computer.
She walked over to him. “What’s up?”
He shook his head, then leaned closer to his screen. “Have you been cloned, by chance?”
“Not that I know of, but the way my tenure as sheriff has been going, I wouldn’t be surprised. Why do you ask?”
“I could be wrong, but it looks like someone may have stolen your identity.”
11
Help! I live in a house where my mother
takes breathing hard as backtalk.
—JOURNAL ENTRY: AURORA VICRAM
Auri tugged Sybil’s braid as she sat behind her in second period. They were scheduled to watch a riveting documentary on the emotional impact of social media platforms, but Auri asked if she could work on her laptop instead. Coach Love agreed and that was how Aurora Dawn Vicram got arrested hacking into the sheriff’s database.
But before that, she and Sybil sat against a wall, close to an outlet for her charger, and typed in her mother’s username and password.
“Are you sure this is okay?” Sybil asked, her round glasses sliding down her nose.
“Are you kidding? I do it all the time.”
“Yes, at home. Where your mom’s IP address will show up. But you’re using a VPN. Won’t they know the access is unauthorized?”
“What’s the worst that can happen?” she asked.
“You know, every time you say that, something horrible happens.”
Auri winced. “You’re right. I’ll stop. But look. We can access all the reports that were filed. You said the girl who was found wounded near Copper Canyon was wearing a prom dress?”
“That’s what I have in my notes.”
“Okay, if she goes to Del Sol, then prom was April twenty-second.” She scrolled through the police reports until she came to April of last year. “Here we go. April twenty-second. An unidentified female was brought into urgent care with a head injury and a broken arm. She was found by a passing motorist on Canyon Highway just before the pass.”
“That’s it.” Sybil scooted closer. “Does it give her name?”
“Not in this report, because they didn’t know it yet. Let me see…” She found a second report and clicked on it. “What?” she asked aloud, disappointed. “It just says she was flown to Albuquerque.”