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

Now, I worked on turning my attention to the day ahead. Despite my best efforts, I had managed to scrounge out a semblance of a life. I worked at a pizza parlor. I’d even made friends, of sorts. A budding group of other survivors, some who’d found me in the days after the Stacey Summers rescue, others whom I’d found on my own. All of us had one thing in common: We’d survived once. Now, we wanted to live again.

Which maybe was a piece of the answer I still sought.

I wasn’t a perfect daughter. Apparently, I was only a shadow of a sister. I still didn’t know how to relax when my mother gave me a hug, or sleep through the night, or go anyplace without at least half a dozen tools for self-defense.

But for some people out there . . .

If everything in your life had gone wrong. If the worst had just happened, and a predator now had you in his sights . . .

Well, then, I was the girl you wanted to have on your side.

I was the person who knew exactly what you were going through, and would never give up till you came home again.





Chapter 3


D.D. HAD A LOT TO DO, and it all needed to happen fast. First, she got out her cell and phoned her boss, Deputy Superintendent of Homicide Cal Horgan. She ran him through the scene.

“We need an Amber Alert. It’s been ninety minutes since the sound of shots fired, still no sign of the sixteen-year-old daughter, Roxanna Baez, or the family’s dogs.”

“Dogs?” Horgan asked.

“Two Brittany spaniels, both blind. Answer to the names Blaze and Rosie. We should release their details to the press, as well. Some people may not feel like getting involved with a missing teen. But two elderly dogs . . .”

“Are they chipped?” Horgan wanted to know.

“Unknown. Detective Manley is searching credit card receipts now, looking for charges to local vets. She’ll follow up with possible docs, see what she can learn about identity chips, temperament, special needs. If the girl ran away, it’s possible she took the dogs with her, which would make all of them easier to track. But it’s also possible the dogs bolted at the sound of gunfire and are currently hunkered down under someone’s porch.”

“Neighbors?”

“We have foot patrols walking a one-mile radius, looking for signs of the girl and/or the dogs. Detectives are conducting door-to-door canvasses, requesting immediate access and making note of anyone who warrants follow-up.”

“Gonna handle the follow-ups yourself?”

“Most likely.”

“Contact Laskin yet?” Horgan had switched gears; Chip Laskin was the BPD’s media relations officer, who was about to have a very busy day.

“My next call,” D.D. assured him. “Phil issued a BOLO upon first arriving at the scene, providing local media with a description of the missing teen. We need Chip to follow up with a photo of the girl and the dogs to state and national channels, while also hitting the internet.”

In the past few years, the Boston Police Department had joined the rest of the planet and embraced social media. Facebook page, Twitter handle, its own news site, BPDNews.com. Crazier yet, it seemed to be working. Post a grainy black-and-white security video of a break-in, and within thirty minutes the BPD’s page would receive three or four posts with the suspect’s name. Why send detectives knocking on neighbors’ doors when a media relations officer could transmit the same information straight into every single person’s living room with a fraction of the time and effort? D.D. suspected they were one step away from RoboCop.

But that day wasn’t today, so she still had her job to do.

“Inside the residence we have two computers, four cell phones. Phil is working with Facebook now, requesting access to the mother’s account. Next he’ll contact Apple.”

Facebook allowed police emergency access to a person’s page as long as the company received a signed affidavit promising a warrant within twenty-four hours. Very convenient in this day and age when a motive or even murder suspect was often just one Facebook post away.

Apple, on the other hand, took longer to crack. While the family’s local phone carrier could release text and voice mail messages from the family’s mobiles, that information didn’t include iMessages—any texts sent between one Apple device and another. Given how many people owned iPhones, that meant a substantial number of the messages could remain missing. Savvy detectives started their paperwork early when they needed information from Apple, especially in a time-sensitive situation such as a missing kid.

“Relatives, nosy neighbors?” Horgan asked.

“Working on it. Have asked Detective Manley to contact the girl’s school when she’s done with vets. With any luck, Phil’s search of social media posts and Carol’s outreach with the school will yield some crossover names—Roxanna’s inner circle. That’s who we’ll hit next.”

“Don’t forget enemies,” Horgan advised. “Friends cover for each other. Whereas the mean girl on Snapchat, she’ll give you the inside dirt. Which is exactly the kind of intel we need.”

“Yeah, yeah, friends, frenemies, got it.”

“Cousins,” he continued. “Especially any near her in age. Aunts and uncles might feel like they have to cover for their siblings. Cousins are more mercenary.”

“Wow, never thought I’d be so happy I don’t have any.”