“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.”
“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.”