Foxy Roxy Read Free Page A

Or maybe he’s nipping at the flask for courage, Roxy thought. To her, Julius suddenly looked a little spooked.
    “You feeling some regrets, Julius?”
    “It’s too late for that.” He caught her looking curious and grinned. “What are you doing here, though, young lady? Picking at the bones like the rest of the vultures? Why aren’t you out for dinner with a nice young man?”
    “I’m still doing an honest day’s work, that’s why.”
    “Not so honest sometimes,” he observed, then checked his watch as if he had an appointment. “I suppose that’s why I like you. There’s larceny in your soul. I’ll leave you to your job. Time for me to toddle off.”
    With more sincerity than she usually felt, Roxy said, “Take care of yourself, Julius.”
    “That’s what I do best.” He straightened his shoulders, summoned his self-respect, and departed.
    Roxy watched him swagger around the house, but shook herself of the notion that maybe she should go after him.
    “He okay?” Nooch asked.
    “He’ll be fine. Amazing how a billion dollars can brighten your day. C’mon, let’s take a look around. I need to pay my kid’s school fees by next week or the nuns kick her out.”
    She led Nooch the opposite way—around the terrace and past a row of burned hydrangeas.
    On a previous visit, Roxy had found a shopping cart and some ragged blankets in the remains of the pergola at the end of the pool—evidence that homeless people had moved in after the fire. But today the shopping cart was gone. Left behind was a black barrel full of ashes. The scavengers had probably burned the plastic coating off copper wire here. They’d left nothing of value.
    Roxy pushed past the bushes.
    A marble statue stood in the flower bed behind the pool, half hidden by the collapsed pergola. A naked man, maybe a gladiator, judging by his stance. Forgotten, he stared nobly into the distance, as if watching his troops march off to victory. A tangle of ivy swarmed up his muscular leg, evidence that he wasn’t marching anywhere anytime soon.
    “Whoa.” Nooch stopped short behind her. “Who’s the dude?”
    “Some hero, I guess.”
    He must have been holding a sword or a javelin at one time, but now his whole right arm was gone. The back of his head and most of his helmet were missing, too, but that didn’t matter much. Judging by the way he jutted his jaw and curled his lip, he had an ego bigger than his dick.
    But Roxy could see he was special. A kind of energy coiled beneath the surface of his marble skin. He was very old, she guessed. And the owners of the house had forgotten about him. Otherwise, why was he still standing here? The night before demolition? A final ray of sunlight slipped through the tree branches overhead and danced along the curve of his magnificent shoulder.
    With her pry bar, Roxy tore away some of the ivy.
    “What are you doing?” Nooch asked. “You don’t want that, do you?”
    “I sure do.”
    “Why? It’s broken. You always say condition, condition, condition.”
    “Not in this case.”
    She slipped the blade of the bar beneath the base of the statue. Crusty with decay, the pedestal flaked a few crumbs, and then a splinter of marble broke loose and skittered down into the weeds. The statue rocked gently above her.
    Roxy steadied him with a hand on his knee. “Easy, big boy.”
    “Are we supposed to be here?” Nooch glanced over his shoulder in the direction Julius had gone. “Aren’t we just supposed to take the stuff we already got?”
    “How am I supposed to pay my kid’s tuition bills if I don’t show a little creativity? Besides, they’re blowing up the house tomorrow, right? So whatever’s left behind is going to get destroyed. It’s free for the picking.”
    “What if Mr. Hyde comes back?”
    “Just go get the handcart.”
    “But—”
    “Go!”
    With a sigh, Nooch lumbered off to do as he was told, and Roxy patted the statue’s bare butt. “No worries, fella. I’m going to find