Page 119 of Before She Disappeared

Frédéric simply waits.

“Did you ever interact with J.J.?”

“Yes. As part of the after-school programming. We open up the courts for basketball, other sports, while offering mentoring opportunities, tutoring instructors, and special classes in art, video design, computer programming. Our mission is to keep these kids off the street. We must help them make good decisions, as they are growing up surrounded by bad ones.”

“I have a friend who says he helps out with the mentoring. Charlie.”

“Ah yes, Charlie. The kids, particularly the boys, like him very much. He is one of them. A survivor. When he talks, even our tougher teens will listen. And every now and then, it is enough to make a difference.”

“J.J. wasn’t the every now and then.”

“No. Sadly.”

“But Livia?”

“I didn’t know her well enough. She was a gifted artist, as I said. But very quiet. She did our after-school programming, too. She worked with one of our teachers in one of the trade school courses.”

Trade schoolcatches my attention. “You have teachers come help out?”

“Of course.”

“What about computer design classes? Say, taught by a Mr. Riddenscail?”

“Absolutely. He is very good. One of our few white teachers. The kids don’t make it easy on him, but he is tougher than he looks. Has been working our after-school program for years.”

“Were he and Livia close?” I ask immediately.

“She took one of his classes.”

“And you have computers here?”

“A dozen. We got them through a special grant.”

“What about a 3D printer?”

“Yes.” He regards me curiously. “Through the same grant.”

“Did Mr. Riddenscail write that grant?”

Frédéric sits up straighter. “As a matter of fact... Wait, I don’t understand.”

But I’m already moving. I need to reach Lotham. Demand that he get a warrant and return here immediately.

“I’ll be back,” I inform Frédéric.

“Wait,” he says again.

But I don’t. My sense of urgency has taken over. I must move, I must act. Livia is dead, Angelique may be next. The rec center, computers, 3D printers, forgeries. It all ties together. I feel like I’m on the edge of watching the pieces click into place. If I’m not already too late.

I nearly run down the long shadowy corridor. I bolt out the doors, back into the blinding sun, whipping out my cell phone to call Lotham.

And run smack into J.J. Samdi.

“Lady, I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

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