Look For Me (Detective D.D. Warren #9)(26)

“Why not?”

D.D. wasn’t surprised by the question. No details of the homicides had been leaked to the press, as it should be in such a case.

“I will give you this much,” D.D. granted at last. “There’s no evidence of an argument, disturbance, or exchange of fire. All signs point to one shooter ambushing four targets. Cold, clinical, controlled. This was planned and carried through.”

“An execution,” Flora whispered.

“Most likely.”

Flora frowned. “You really think Roxanna could do such a thing? I mean, this is a sixteen-year-old girl under pressure, asking for advice—”

“On Massachusetts gun laws.”

“But to take out her entire family, including two younger siblings . . . I don’t buy it. Not the Roxanna I knew. No way.”

“Except according to you, you’d only just met her. Meaning you didn’t really know the girl at all.”

“The Amber Alert said to be on the lookout for a girl walking two dogs. Doesn’t that imply she was gone at the time of the shooting?”

“According to a neighbor, she’d left with the dogs. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t double back.”

Flora frowned again, shook her head. She didn’t speak right away. D.D. used the opportunity to attack her bagel.

“Our group is small,” Flora said finally. “And not stupid. You go through the situations we went through, plus navigate everything afterward—the reporters who pretend to be your best friend, only because they want exclusive rights to your story; the people who suddenly love you, but only really want to bask in the reflected glow of your celebrity . . . You learn to be a good judge of people. We don’t allow many in, and everyone has to come with a personal recommendation. Roxy got that blessing. She convinced at least one pretty savvy woman that she was desperately in need.”

“Maybe.” D.D. shrugged, chewed more bagel. “But according to you, she always talked about a friend, which everyone knew was a lie. So, you believed her fear was genuine, even as she lied to you?”

“We believed she lied because she was afraid.”

“Tricky proposition. She reveal anything personal? Trust you guys with any intimate details of her life? Hell, the name of this alleged best friend? Or, better yet, biggest enemy?”

“Not yet. But she was new to the group. Sharing takes time and trust.”

D.D. rolled her eyes. “In other words, you know nothing. And have spent the past twenty minutes telling us nothing. Thanks a lot.”

“We didn’t know much about her current home life,” Flora said abruptly. “But I know she was once in foster care.”

D.D. paused mid-bite, remembering what Hector had told them, about the year when Juanita’s drinking had caught up with her and she’d lost custody of the kids. “What makes you say that?”

“She referred once to her CASA advocate. Advice she’d received from the woman on how to handle uncomfortable situations. Basically, threat-assessment skills for a foster kid entering a new home environment. Clearly, Roxanna had some experience.”

“What else?”

“You tell me. When Roxy went for her walk, did she take anything with her? Say, a backpack.”

“Maybe.”

Flora nodded, as if that made perfect sense. “Bugout bag. She was preparing. Keeping the essentials with her at all times. Something foster kids learn to do.”

“Except Roxy’s been back home with her mother and siblings for years now. Seems like a strange time to suddenly expect a social worker or CASA volunteer to show up again.”

“Or that’s what had Roxy on edge: Something had changed recently in the home. Roxy recognized the signs from before, and that’s what had her on edge.”

D.D. frowned. It was an interesting theory, and yet she had no way of evaluating how interesting, because when it came to the Boyd-Baez family, they simply didn’t know enough yet.

“I assume your little band of misfits gave advice on proper stocking of a bugout bag?” D.D. asked.

“We’re big fans of cash, bear spray, nondescript clothes, and duct tape,” Flora said.

“What about advice on purchasing street weapons?”

“Like I said, I don’t recommend firearms for these situations.”

“Except what’s the situation?” D.D. asked in exasperation.

“Someone fearing for her life.”

“From whom? Because if she was afraid of her mother’s boyfriend, then he should be dead on her bedroom floor while she claims self-defense. But what the hell justifies the shooting of her entire family?”

“Just proves an outsider did it. Maybe someone who was there to hunt Roxy. Or, failing that, wanted to leave her alone and vulnerable.”

“Have you or anyone else in your group heard from her? Lie to me, and I’ll arrest you. All of you.”

“We’ve had no contact.”

“But you’ll tell me the minute you do.”

Flora remained mute.

“Are you helping us, or are you helping us?” D.D. asked tensely.

“We’re helping her.”

“Great. Tell me where she’d go under stress. Maybe a location your group has identified just for these circumstances.”