Look For Me (Detective D.D. Warren #9)(95)
“Roberto’s dead,” D.D. stated.
Roxy merely shrugged. “But his girlfriend isn’t.”
Chapter 33
D.D.’S FIRST INSTINCT WAS TO take Roxanna Baez into protective custody—the girl was under eighteen, her entire family had just been murdered, and she was at the very least a person of interest in the investigation. Roxy, however, went from slowly shaking her head no to near hysteria in a matter of minutes. Apparently, suggesting social services to a girl who’d once been ripped from her home and subjected to even further abuse wasn’t the best idea. In no time at all, the girl was backed against a wall, wielding a canister of bear spray and looking like she knew how to use it.
Sarah and Flora talked her down while gazing at D.D. like she was a total moron. Which maybe she had been. Social services was protocol in such cases, though, D.D. would be the first to admit, not always the right solution. Then again, she couldn’t just drag the girl down to BPD headquarters and leave her there, nor was there any basis for charging the girl with a crime. According to Roxy’s own testimony, she wasn’t even a witness to what had happened to her family. Just a sole survivor.
Which gave Sarah’s suggestion some credibility: Roxy would stay with her.
There was nothing to link Roxy to Sarah or her apartment, easing Roxy’s fears for her safety, while D.D. would arrange for extra patrol cars in the neighborhood, adding to the protective layers while keeping official eyes on her key person of interest. Roxy finally calmed down. Everyone in the tiny apartment started breathing again.
The bad news: The dogs would need to be returned to the school counselor, as they were too big for the tiny apartment, not to mention their presence would call attention to Sarah and her new roommate.
Flora volunteered to handle the dogs. Which left D.D. with the next piece of the puzzle: following up on the details of Roberto’s suicide four months ago. Because more and more, his death appeared to be related to, if not a catalyst for, the murders to come.
She started with a call to Phil, catching him up on recent developments. They still didn’t have any leads on the shooting from this morning. Two detectives, however, had finished reviewing the security footage from the blocks around Hector Alvalos’s attack. They had zeroed in on the image of a fleeing person, navy blue hoodie, long dark hair. They couldn’t find any camera angle that provided an image of the person’s face, however. Given the slight build, a teenage girl seemed about right. That was the best they could tell, and no, the person wasn’t carrying a backpack, light blue or otherwise.
“So Roxanna might be telling the truth,” D.D. murmured over the phone to Phil. “Okay, I have another task. According to Roxy, she headed down the block away from the café immediately after the shooting, stopping to buy a red-flowered scarf. Have uniforms check with local vendors to determine which store sells scarves. Better yet, does that store have a camera? Because if so, maybe can we get a definitive shot of Roxy making such a purchase. Which would corroborate her version of post-shooting events.”
“I sent Neil to talk to the theater director, Doug de Vries,” Phil reported. “Doug confirmed he was with Anya Seton yesterday morning, starting at eight A.M., though he swears he was just helping her run lines.”
“Mmm-hmm,” D.D. said. As alibis went, an aging married director covering for his jailbait lover didn’t rate too highly in her book. “What about during the time of Hector’s shooting? Anya have an alibi for that?”
“Actually she does. Play rehearsal was in full swing. Plenty of witnesses that she was in the theater for most of the afternoon. Not to mention she and de Vries arrived together before practice, while a whole group of them went straight to dinner after practice. Basically, Anya has someone to vouch for her company for the entire day.”
D.D. scowled, not liking this news so much.
“Isn’t she a blonde?” Phil was asking now. “While our shooter has been identified with long dark hair.”
“Please, she’s an actress with plenty of access to wigs. Hair color is easy to change. The multiple alibis, on the other hand . . .” D.D. chewed her lower lip. “But she has motive. In fact, best I can tell, Anya’s the only one with motive to attack all our victims.”
She could almost hear Phil shrugging over the phone. “Well, then she’s either smarter than we realize and has mastered the art of being in two places at once, or there’s something here we still don’t know.”
“Something? Or someone?” D.D. muttered grumpily. She pulled it together. “I need the name of the investigating officer into Roberto’s death.”
“Detective Hank Swetonic. Has a solid record.”
“Not the kind of guy to miss something obvious?”
“Not likely.”
“All right. Wish me luck.”
“Luck.”
“And, Phil, remind me at the end of the day to buy some cheap boots. I think before this puppy thing is over and done with, I’m gonna need some expendable shoes.”
D.D. ended the call. Sunday afternoon, traffic was light, at least by Boston standards. It gave her some time to collect her thoughts, though she still wasn’t sure what she was thinking.
Roberto. It felt to her that all roads led back to one bullying teenager and his reign of terror in a foster home. He’d abused Roxanna and Lola, plus untold others. He’d done whatever was necessary to advance his girlfriend’s stage ambitions. And he was possibly involved in the unlawful distribution of child porn.