Free Sharpshooter by Nadia Gordon Page B

molecules in the juice at a different angle than it bounced off the water molecules, producing a fairly accurate reading of sugar content. She pulled a photocopied recording sheet from a stack on the makeshift desk and noted each reading. Most of the grapes were at seventeen degrees Brix, which meant they could be ready to harvest after the next warm day or two, maybe three if it stayed mild, and would probably be overripe by the end of the week. She folded the paper and tucked it in her pocket.
    Near the end of town, the St. Helena police station crouched low and flat at the side of the park like a fugitive, its wide eaves warped and drooping at the edges, and the stucco walls streaked with rust. Inside, two hefty women in uniform sorted and stapled paperwork behind a sliding glass window, like receptionists at a doctor’s office. Sunny stated her business and waited. Twenty minutes later, a female cop waved her through a doorway and into the visiting room. Wade came in wearing an orange jumpsuit. She felt a surge of tears at the sight of him.
    He sat down in a metal folding chair on the other side of a wall of glass. “Hey, sis.”
    “Hi. I brought your stuff. They said they’d give it to you.”
    “Great.”
    “How are you holding up?”
    “Okay, all things considered. Did you talk to Harry?”
    “Yeah. He’s working on everything. He said he won’t know if we can get you out on bail until tomorrow or maybe Monday, depending on when you get to see the judge. He said you’ll probably have to put up the vineyard.”
    He nodded and Sunny went on. “I tested the Brix and fed Farber.” She took the paper out of her pocket and pressed it against the glass between them.
    Wade studied it. “Looks like we might need to harvest on Tuesday or Wednesday. If I can’t be there, you might have to make some phone calls for me, see who we can get to help. I guess we can talk about that once we know about the arraignment.”
    “Right.”
    After a minute, Wade said, “I guess you didn’t find anything.”
    She shook her head and sighed. “I’m not through looking yet, but I went over the winery, the house, and the workshop pretty carefully. I figure I might as well look around outside, in between the house and the winery. I don’t know how it would get there, but you never know, since we don’t know how it vanished in the first place. And I forgot to check the Volvo.”
    “Well, the cops did all that, anyway.” Wade looked away, staring at the far wall. “I guess I thought there was a chance that it was right in front of me and I just couldn’t see it for some reason. Crazy. I don’t know what I thought.”
    “I’ll find something, either the gun or the person who took it. We’re going to get you out of here.”
    Wade met her eyes. “That’s what’s got me worried, Sunny. This is getting serious. Whoever killed Jack Beroni is still close. They know me, and they know you. This is somebody with enough malice and nerve to kill Jack and send me to jail for it.They’re capable of anything. It’s not safe for you to be running around out there. Who knows what might happen if they notice you snooping around? Whoever took my gun and killed Jack is probably watching your every move.”
    “No, they’ve gotten away with it; they won’t do anything to risk getting caught now. They’re just going to blend back into the woodwork and wait it out.”
    Wade rubbed the pressure points at the bridge of his nose. “I never should have gotten you involved in all this. I’m sorry I did. Now I’m asking you to get out of it and stay out. This isn’t your problem anymore.”
    Sunny leaned in and talked low, almost whispering. “Wade, this is no time to cross our fingers and hope everything is going to be okay. Do you really want your fate in the hands of Steve Harvey? He’s a nice guy, but do you really want him deciding whether you spend the rest of your life in jail or not? The fact is, somebody is trying to get away