Page 68 of Before She Disappeared

CHAPTER 18

I pop upstairs to my apartment to clean up before work. And possibly, though I don’t want to get carried away, because I’m worried about Piper. But given that I’m greeted with a giant ball of vomit in the middle of the floor, I can see my concerns are misplaced. I check under the bed, and sure enough, glowing green eyes stare back at me.

“We need to discuss your communication style,” I inform her.

She blinks slowly.

“I find the gutted mice and pile of ick to be passive aggressive. If you need a bit of personal space, just say so.”

She yawns, flashing canines. Maybe her communication style is direct, and I just don’t like the message.

I get out the paper towels and mop up the mess.

Tomorrow, I’ll hit the grocery store, I promise myself. After I survive my work shift, attend an AA meeting, and... well, whatever comes next with the good detective.

I really wouldn’t mind a night of mad, passionate sex.

Then again, I’m not convinced Lotham is the type who can handle the morning after.

I sigh heavily. Scrub my hands and face, rake a comb through my hair, then report downstairs for work.

Stoney is his usual silent self. I appreciate that today. My mind is racing. For all my big words to Lotham, I hate having this many questions. Livia and Angelique. Angelique and Livia. Am I being too naïve? Maybe instead of secret besties, they were lovers and Angelique wasn’t ready to disclose her sexuality to the world?

In my experience, teenagers today are pretty open-minded about these things. Certainly compared to my generation. Though maybe sexual orientation isn’t as accepted in Haitian culture? Or in Angelique’s family? How do I ask that question?

It matters, though. What is the relationship between Angelique and Livia, and what drove both of them to disappear within months of each other?

Us.Help us.

And again, just how many people is us? Is a presumed runaway girl the end of that question, or just the beginning?

The knowledge of a second missing teen does help with some answers. For example, Angelique’s obvious autonomy to move around the city, but her continued need for secrecy and refusal to come home. Human trafficking 101 is to play the girls off one another. You can have freedom for the night. But one false move, and your friend will pay the price. Given Angelique’s reputation for caretaking, she would be particularly vulnerable to such control tactics. Especially if Livia was a new friend, more-than-friend, whom she wouldn’t want to betray.

Meaning that eleven months later, Angelique had acquired some level of trust and independence from her kidnappers—while remaining terrified for her safety, and the safety of at least one other girl.

Angelique didn’t believe in dreams, Emmanuel had said. She believed in making plans. Like sending a coded message. Like appearing at a major wireless store where maybe she hoped she’d be captured on security cameras. Two sightings in two weeks.

Whatever her plan was, it involved a definite sense of urgency. Meaning what had changed? What was about to happen if we didn’t pick up on her trail of breadcrumbs and fast?

I unstack chairs, wipe tabletops, slice up lemons and limes, and still come no closer to any answers. Clearly Angelique is trying to communicate. Unfortunately, I still didn’t get the message.

Viv appears through the front door. She stops when she sees me.

“I hear you’re looking for that poor missing girl.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You some kind of private eye?”

“I’m gonna go with some kind.”

She hums her approval in her Viv-like way. “Honey, no child should be missing from her family. Any way I can help, you let me know.”

“Do you know the Samdi family? Their daughter is Livia.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell, but I can ask around. Mattapan ain’t that big, but it’s crowded enough. Was a time when I felt like I knew my neighbors, but not anymore.”

Viv disappears into the kitchen, hollering out a greeting to Stoney, who grunts in reply. I just finish setting up the bar in time for the first few customers to arrive. I already recognize a few of the regulars, and no longer earn so many dark scowls. I take that as progress as I start banging out drinks and delivering plates of hot food.

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