Look For Me (Detective D.D. Warren #9)(35)

“Sure.” The nurse hesitated. “You really don’t know where Roxy is?”

“No.”

“Someone could’ve taken her?”

“We are pursuing all leads.”

“She’s a good girl. Whatever happened . . . She doesn’t deserve this. She already had her family ripped apart once. It doesn’t seem right for her to have to go through it again.”

D.D. and Phil shook the nurse’s hand. They left her to return to her shift while they returned to their work.

They’d just made it back to the lobby, D.D. turning over this newest information in her mind, trying to identify the next logical step, when Phil’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen. “Neil,” he said, referring to his squad mate, whom they’d left behind at the crime scene, working with Detective Manley.

They both stopped walking as he answered it. In the way these things worked, Neil did all the talking. Phil nodded. His eyes widened.

“Coming.” He ended the call, returning the phone to his pocket, before announcing to D.D.: “There’s been another shooting—Hector Alvalos.”

D.D.’s mouth fell open.

“And get this, a girl matching Roxy Baez’s description was spotted running from the area.”





Chapter 14


I LEFT TRICIA LOBDELL CASS’S house and walked around aimlessly, trying to think big thoughts. Who was Roxy Baez? Responsible student, caring sister, walker of dogs. Maybe she’d lied to our group about having a friend in need. Did I still believe she needed help? For herself? Her sister?

And given all that had happened, where would she go now? What would she do?

I hadn’t lied to Sergeant Warren earlier. On the support group’s discussion board, I recommended fleeing to a public location if one felt in fear of one’s life. Someplace with a lot of witnesses and cameras.

But in Roxy’s case, that would’ve brought her to immediate police attention. According to the latest news bulletins, at least, the search remained active. The cops had found the dogs, but not the girl. How? How could a teenager disappear so completely?

I would put my money on a friend. Had to be. Maybe this Mike Davis? But someone she trusted, and who trusted her enough to hide her given the circumstances. Which would make that person a coconspirator.

I kept checking my phone compulsively, hoping Roxy’s guidance counselor had made contact with Mike Davis, that he would call any second and have all the answers to my questions.

When my phone actually buzzed, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I answered it quickly. But it wasn’t some kid named Mike Davis. It was Sarah, from our survivors group.

And the news she had was even more shocking.

? ? ?

THE COFFEE SHOP WHERE I’D met Sergeant Warren and Detective Phil was now roped off with ribbons of yellow crime scene tape. D.D. and Phil were kneeling down next to the tree where the dogs had been tied up. Both dogs were now gone. And there were bright red stains marring the sidewalk.

Not the dogs, thank heavens, who remained uninjured, but Hector Alvalos, who’d arrived to pick them up.

I didn’t try to duck under the crime scene tape. In my experience, D.D. already had an instinct for these things. Sure enough . . .

“What the hell? Seriously, you again?”

She stared at me hard. I didn’t flinch.

“I have information,” I said.

“Be still my beating heart.”

I didn’t take the bait. I was used to her sarcasm by now. We all had our reasons for being hard. I knew mine. I always figured D.D. had her own story to tell.

A few minutes passed. She conferred with Phil, their voices too low for me to catch. Then finally, reluctantly, she rose to standing and crossed over to where I stood.

“Hector Alvalos?” I asked.

“How do you know that?”

“Everyone talks. Not to mention, you ever want the inside scoop on a news story, tip the cameraman. No one ever pays attention to the cameramen.”

She frowned. “I’ll have to remember that,” she said finally.

As close to praise from her as I’d probably ever get. “Is he okay?”

“Fortunately, he got shot only a few blocks from a major medical center. Bullet hit his shoulder. With any luck, he’ll recover.”

“Where are the dogs?”

“After the shooting, some teacher from Roxy’s school showed up to take them. She swears she can handle them for a few days.”

I nodded, wondering if she meant the guidance counselor, Tricia Lobdell Cass.

“This Hector, he’s the father of one of Roxy’s siblings?”

“Manny. Her younger brother.”

I pursed my lips, tried to make sense of this news. “Was Hector close to the family? Spent a lot of time at the house?”

“Apparently, he picked up his son every Sunday.”

“Could he have been the shooter this morning?” I asked.

D.D. gave me a look. “What? Hector Alvalos shot and killed his ex and her new family, including his own son?”

I shrugged. “Domestic violence. Gotta look at all the players, right? Even the exes.”

“Are you going to become a detective, Flora? Give up this vigilante business, go legit?”

“Then I’d have to do paperwork.”