Look For Me (Detective D.D. Warren #9)(101)

“What about his phone?”

“I never heard what happened to it. But no more photos ever appeared. The matter seemed resolved. Maybe not how I’d been expecting, but resolved.”

“Except Anya started publicly blaming Lola and Las Ni?as.”

“She confronted Roxanna the last day of school. Screamed, called her a murderer, as well as some other less-than-complimentary names. But then Anya always had a dramatic streak, and Roberto’s death had devastated her. She told anyone and everyone he was the great love of her life.”

“You think she went after the Baez family to avenge Roberto’s death? You think, if you had only spoken up that day, gotten Roberto caught by the principal and Lola and Roxy real justice—”

“Lola and her gang wouldn’t have gone after him.”

“According to Las Ni?as, they didn’t kill Roberto. It really was a suicide.”

Tricia frowned at me, appearing genuinely perplexed. “I never heard of Roberto being depressed or suicidal. And as guidance counselor, it’s my job to be familiar with those members of our student population. Frankly, Roberto was a classic bully. Cruel, clever, controlling. But self-destructive? I can’t picture it. Plus . . .”

The hesitation was back, her left hand pressed against her stomach.

“What?” I demanded. More movement beyond the rear door. An entire bush shaking. No way that was the wind.

“The note,” she said.

“The note?” I didn’t know where to look, where to focus. Her. The door. Her. Backing up another step. Feeling the press of the countertop behind me. Reducing the field of possible attack to the tiny kitchen in front of me. But also boxing myself into a corner.

“I found it in my office, the day after we heard of Roberto’s death. It said, You’re safe now. The note was typed. Unsigned. But I understood the message. Someone knew about Roberto’s threat. And was taking credit for resolving the matter.”

“Did you tell anyone about what Roberto said?”

“No. But . . .”

Her. The door. Her. “For the love of God, spit it out!”

“Roxanna was sitting outside my office that day. The principal wanted to see her, as well. So she and her friend Mike Davis were waiting out in the hall. The school isn’t exactly soundproof. It’s possible they heard something.”

“So Roxy might have gone after Roberto?”

“I don’t know! Roxy was always protective of her family and Lola in particular—”

“Get down!”

I saw it coming out of the corner of my eye. A projectile flying at the rear door. I was already dropping to the floor, while Tricia, who’d not been shot at that morning, threw up her arms to cover her face.

Clunk.

Then, in quick succession, thump, thump.

Not bullets. Nothing with enough velocity to shatter glass. Which meant . . .

Gingerly I made my way to the door. The dogs were up. What they couldn’t see, they could still hear, and both whined low in their throats. I peered out the bottom edge of the door’s windowed top.

Rocks. Three of them, now resting on the back step. They’d been thrown to get my attention. By a kid who was trying to hide behind an overgrown lilac, but kept giving away his location because he couldn’t stop bouncing.

“Excuse me,” I said to Tricia. “But I believe this is for me.”





Chapter 35


D.D. SAT IN THE PARKING lot of a Dunkin’ Donuts, one of the chain’s dozens of locations in Boston. Like most locals, she came for the coffee, not the donuts. This morning, she’d ordered it regular, which meant heavy on the cream and sugar. Normally, she took her coffee black, but having gotten up at the crack of dawn to play ball with a hyperactive canine, she needed all the help she could get.

She had Roxanna Baez’s blue folder open, and had already skimmed through the entire essay series. Now, she started back at the beginning, reading more carefully. According to Roxy, she’d only submitted the first two essays, describing the removal of her and her siblings from her mother’s custody, followed by their arrival at Mother Del’s.

Roxanna had used real names, including those of Roberto, Anya, and her soon-to-be ally, Mike Davis. The second essay ended on a cliff-hanger: Roxy squaring off against Roberto and Anya at Mother Del’s. Nothing explicitly criminal and evil. And yet . . .

D.D. understood why Roxanna’s writing teacher had grown concerned after reading the essays. She wondered if Juanita Baez had seen either piece. If she knew the toll her drinking had really taken on her children . . .

No such thing as a perfect family, as Roxy had written. They all had to be made.

Did Roxy view her family as a success? Even after reading the entire series, D.D. remained uncertain. Clearly, Juanita had fought for her sobriety. She’d worked hard to get her children back. Which for Roxanna and Lola had meant finally leaving Mother Del’s and being reunited with their mother and younger brother. One step closer to perfection, all things considered.

Except then Juanita had gone and fallen in love with a contractor who lived in Brighton, putting her children back within reach of their former tormentors.

D.D. found the community theater piece interesting. So it had all started as Roxy’s idea—good thinking, too, to keep her, Lola, and then Mike out of Mother Del’s house for as long as possible. Except Roberto and Anya had hijacked that and, apparently, had never given it up. Anya was now the community theater’s star performer, while Roberto had died there—maybe after a drunken bender brought on by his distress over how close his girlfriend had grown to the director, Doug de Vries?