Page 126 of Before She Disappeared

I take a taxi to Livia’s school. I don’t have the time or energy to figure out the maze of buses it takes to get from here to there. Class is in session when I talk my way through the front doors and head to Mr. Riddenscail’s room. I let myself in, standing in the back. He’s not lecturing, but drifting from workstation to workstation, checking each student’s designs, offering comments here and there. He spots me immediately, pausing as he inspects a male student’s drawing on the computer monitor. His guilty conscience? Does he already know why I’m here or at least suspect he couldn’t get away with it forever?

I’m not the police, but I don’t need to be. I want answers. After that, Lotham can have at him.

I wait. Riddenscail continues to focus on his class. Twelve computers, I note now. The same number as at the rec center. This is where it started, I think. Whatever it is that got Livia and Angelique in so much trouble. The idea to design their own fake IDs? If a jerk like DommyJ could do it, why not them? Livia would be the design team, Angelique marketing. Both had the brains to think bigger, better. Livia would knock off near-perfect fakes. Angelique would sell them. Given the number of underage college kids in Boston looking to join Marjolie’s club-hopping and pub-crawling ways... That would certainly explain the amount of cash in Angelique’s lamp, while Livia would’ve contributed the counterfeit hundreds from her own household.

Had they thought if they mixed the fake Franklins with real bills it would improve their chances of being able to spend the money?

Which is where I started to get lost again. Why the college pics? No way two teenagers ran off to attend a college under an alias. Let alone, why would Angelique have dressed up as Livia to do so, and why would Livia appear so terrified?

Then there was Livia’s meeting with her long-lost half brother. Not to mention Livia’s body, discovered just this morning, laid out in a tranquil park environment...

Running out of time. Livia dead, Angelique soon to follow. What happened, what happened, what happened?

I had so many questions for Mr. Riddenscail. And no more patience for lies.

A bell finally rings. The students rise, pack up their stuff. Several of them eye me curiously. Mr. Riddenscail and I are the only white people in the room. Maybe they think I’m his girlfriend or an acquaintance coming to meet him. No one asks. The kids simply shuffle out the door, some already deep in conversation as they head to the next classroom.

No kids file in to take their place. I must’ve caught Mr. Riddenscail on a break.

He’s already moved to the front of the room, where he’s pecking away at his keyboard. Lotham should get a warrant for that computer. He probably will. He’s thorough that way. Looking up Paul...

I order myself to focus.

“I assume you have more questions about Livia?” Riddenscail says at last. “Or would you like to learn more about 3D printers, the AutoCAD platform, design basics?”

“I’ve come from the rec center,” I say, watching him closely for his response.

He taps a few more keys, then glances up. He regards me patiently, as if waiting for me to say more.

“I know about the grant. The computers and 3D printer you got for the after-school program. The class you taught there that also included Livia Samdi.”

He continues to stare at me blankly.

“Why didn’t you tell us that earlier?”

“Honestly? I didn’t think of it. You were asking questions about Livia in this class, so that’s what I focused on.”

“You made it sound like you didn’t really know her. Yet you had her for multiple classes at multiple locations. That doesn’t sound like a distant relationship to me.”

“Actually, I told you I’d pushed her to sign up for a spring competition. That’s what she was working on at the rec center. Preparation. That location was more convenient for her, as it was walking distance from her house. Plus, she needed my help to figure out some of the newer tricks involving the software. So when I was running the after-school program at the rec center, it made more sense for her to join me there. I said she was gifted and I was trying to get her to come out of her shell. I’m sorry if I missed some of the details.”

“Livia Samdi is dead.”

Now I get a response. His face goes pale. He sits down heavily in his desk chair.

“When?” he asks softly.

“They found her body this morning.” I peer at him closely. But I don’t see any evidence of guilt. Just shock, and maybe even grief.

He swallows hard. “What happened?”

“Someone strangled her, then dumped her body in Franklin Park.”

“Oh my God. That poor girl.” He trembles slightly, wipes at his eyes.

“What was she doing here? What had she gotten herself into? It’s time to talk, Riddenscail. Before you find yourself hauled in on murder charges. What the hell did you have her doing?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. And I certainly didn’t kill anyone. She had such promise. I was sure she was going to get out, go off to college. I already hoped...”

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