Look For Me (Detective D.D. Warren #9)(94)

“I caught Lola screaming at Anya in front of the director, Doug. Anya was calling her a slut, and Lola was yelling that Anya would get hers. Doug was just standing there, not knowing what to do.”

Or enjoying the show, I thought, especially given that he was apparently sleeping with Anya.

“I dragged Lola away. But she was . . . vibrating. She kept repeating under her breath over and over again, ‘I will not be a victim, I will not be a victim.’ Then: ‘They will get theirs.’

“I was frightened,” Roxy said. “Lola has always been melodramatic. But this. I felt like she was becoming unhinged. I was still trying to figure out what to do, how much to say to my mom. Then, yesterday . . .”

“When you saw the police, your first thought was Lola,” D.D. said evenly. “You knew she was unstable. And you knew she still had a gun.”

“I should’ve thrown it away. Dropped it in a dumpster. Something.”

“Did you think she’d killed your family?”

“I thought maybe she and my mother had gotten into a fight. In which case, if Lola felt trapped, she might grab the gun. She would shoot first, think second. And Charlie, of course, would try to protect my mom.”

“What about Manny?” D.D. asked.

Roxy shook her head. “She wouldn’t harm Manny. Never. That’s the part that makes no sense. Lola is angry and impulsive. But she would slit her own wrists before harming a hair on our little brother’s head. He is all that’s good in the world. When we were at Mother Del’s, our weekly meetings with him, watching him light up when we walked into the room, that’s the only thing that gave us hope.”

“What happened to your family, Roxy?”

“I don’t know!” Roxy suddenly banged both hands against the table. “Don’t you get it yet? I took my dogs for a walk, and when I came back, my family was gone. Just like five years ago, when some lady showed up and my family was ripped apart. We try so hard. We love each other. I know we’re not perfect, but we love each other. And still. One moment. That’s all it takes. Destroyed. Over. Finished. Done.

“I ran. I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t know what to do anymore.”

“You went to hide in the theater?”

“It’s a good location and I know it well.”

“It’s also where Anya Seton spends most of her days.” I spoke up. “You think she did it, don’t you? You’re keeping your eye on her.”

“She blames Lola and me for Roberto’s death. If anyone had a reason to seek out and destroy our family . . .”

“She also has an alibi,” D.D. said.

“Rehearsal? It didn’t start till noon yesterday.”

“More like a private session with the director.”

Roxy stilled. She wasn’t a dumb bunny—I could tell the moment she understood. Something drifted across her face, an expression too quick to catch. Then, abruptly, she sat back.

“I didn’t shoot my family,” she said.

“What about opening fire on Hector, or Las Ni?as Diablas?”

“Why? Why would I do such a thing?”

“Hector abandoned you. He could’ve kept you and Lola from ever going to Mother Del’s if he’d just spoken up in family court.”

“Seriously? He was drunk that day. How would that have made a difference? My mother had her journey, he had his. At least both of them ended up doing what was right.”

“And Las Ni?as Diablas? We hear they liked your sister so much, they wanted you to join, as well.”

“Wasn’t going to happen,” Roxy said.

“Not even to please Lola?”

“Wasn’t going to happen.”

“Come on, Roxanna.” D.D. tilted her head to the side. “Enough of the denial. Your family is dead, and presumably the same shooter is still running around taking shots at people you know.”

“Hector was Manny’s dad. Las Ni?as Diablas, Lola’s gang. Doesn’t really make them people I know. More like people I’m acquainted with.”

“This is your defense?”

“I didn’t do this! Any of this! I didn’t hurt my family. I didn’t shoot Hector. And I sure as hell wouldn’t go after Lola’s crazy killer chicas. I’m not that dumb.”

“Then who is?”

“I don’t know. I don’t—”

Roxy stopped. Her eyes widened slightly; then she shook her head.

“What is it?” D.D. demanded to know.

“Roberto. He’s the other person who ties this all together. My mother’s questions were most likely going to get him into trouble. Not to mention he hated Las Ni?as Diablas for the way they treated him in school.”

“What about Hector?” D.D. asked.

“I don’t think he’d ever met Hector. But the dogs . . .” Roxy looked at us, the dogs resting on the floor, their heads on my and Sarah’s laps. “Maybe they were the real targets. Because Lola loved Rosie and Blaze. She often walked them to the park. When Roberto was there, he’d taunt her, tell her she was finally hanging with her own kind. But I think he was just jealous. Lola had a family. Lola had loving dogs. Roberto . . . he never had any of that. He was mean and cruel and awful. But sometimes, he was sad, too. Even we could see that.”