Page 125 of Before She Disappeared

“I didn’t ask. Livia’s attendance is grounds enough for a warrant, right? I mean, she goes missing, then turns up dead. Surely some judge somewhere will grant you access to the rec center’s computers.”

“I think I can manage that much.”

“Don’t hurt anything.” Now I’m the edgy one.

“I looked up Paul,” Lotham says abruptly. “I found the case, Frankie. I know what happened.”

I don’t say anything. It’s not a question and doesn’t deserve an answer. Besides, it’s none of his business. It’s no one’s business but mine and Paul’s. And yet all these years later, ten long years later, I can feel my throat closing up and my eyes starting to sting.

I think of J.J. and his feral grief. I know exactly how he feels.

“What are you doing?” Lotham asks me quietly. “Between you and me, Frankie. What are you doing here?”

“Finding Angelique Badeau.”

“It won’t change anything.”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“And if you get yourself killed in the process? Is that what you want? You don’t have the courage to do it yourself, so you’ll just keeping chasing this madness till someone does it for you?”

“Fuck you.” But there’s no heat behind the words. He’s not saying anything I haven’t wondered myself. “Don’t you have a murder to investigate?”

“As I believe you told me once, I can multitask.”

“Then what do you have to show for the morning, because I just gave you plenty.”

“I have bags of trace evidence and piles of security feeds to watch. I can tell you a plain white van pulled into Franklin Park shortly after midnight. I know the license plate was smeared with mud to obscure the numbers. I can tell you the driver’s face is hard to make out, but height and profile is about right to be a tall, skinny Black male. I can also tell you, there was a passenger in the van. She was wearing a ball cap.”

“Deke and Angelique,” I murmur. But then I catch myself. “Except it can’t be Deke, because he was standing outside my window last night.”

“According to the time stamp on the video... You’re probably right, it’s not Deke.”

Which leaves me as confused as Lotham feels. Clearly there were other players involved, who’d kidnapped Angelique and Livia, who most likely took turns watching over the girls. But again, who and why? What the hell had Angelique and Livia gotten themselves into that involved both of them missing for nearly a year, not to mention a college in Western Mass?

“I have to go,” I tell Lotham.

“I need to know you’re being careful, Frankie. No chasing down this Deke. Meeting with J.J. Samdi was risky enough.”

“I’m not looking for Deke,” I say, thinking, no need. J.J.’s got it covered.

“Will you please talk to me?”

“No. This is my life, my choices. Manage your own.”

I click off the phone. I honestly don’t want to hear it. I’m well aware of my strengths, and I’m well aware of my weaknesses. And I’ve designed a lifestyle that fits both accordingly.

Right now, that lifestyle involves locating Angelique Badeau.

I don’t have a time machine. There’s nothing I can do that will ever change what happened ten years ago. No amount of handwashing that erases the blood, no amount of repenting that eases the guilt. I screwed up. Paul died. It is both that simple and that haunting.

And now? Now my life is about helping others, serving victims.

I already failed Livia Samdi. Meaning now, more than ever, I need to get this right.

Angelique Badeau, here I come.

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