Page 127 of Before She Disappeared

He shudders again, swipes his eyes with the back of his hand. If I didn’t know any better, I would say the man is crying.

Maybe I don’t know any better. I finally move away from the door and approach. “Look at me.”

Riddenscail drops his hand. His cheeks are wet with tears. He looks devastated.

“Don’t you think this is a bit much for a student you claim you didn’t even know?”

“I knew enough. I saw enough. What, you think I’m doing this job for the great pay?” He waves his hand around the tired classroom, with its beat-up linoleum floor and stained drop ceiling. “I show up each day for kids like Livia. The ones who sit in front of those computers, and for the first time in their lives can see their own futures. The software clicks for them, 3D design makes sense. And just like that, they have college potential and job opportunities and an entirely new track to follow. Those kids make everything else worth it. Those kids are why people like me become teachers in the first place.”

I continue to regard him suspiciously, but I’m finding less and less justification. So far, this conversation isn’t going anything like I’d thought.

“Could Livia have forged a driver’s license? Did she understand design and computers that well?”

Riddenscail stares at me. Abruptly, he reaches into his pocket. I’m just stiffening in alarm when he withdraws a small key, inserts it into the lock on his desk drawer, and opens it. He pulls out his wallet, from which he takes his driver’s license. For inspection, I realize. Because how many of us truly pay attention to such things.

“You were asking about forgeries and stamps earlier. Could Livia forge something. But I thought you were looking at currency.”

“We’re now thinking fake IDs.”

He nods slowly, turns his own Massachusetts driver’s license over in his hand. “The background, definitely easy. I bet you can find a template online. The hologram, that’s specialized technology, ink. I don’t think she could do that. Certainly, I don’t know how.”

“She faked it with brighter ink. Not perfect, but close enough for say, getting into a bar.”

“Given that, yeah, Livia could design and print out a license. Especially if the standard is merely close enough. But I never saw her working on anything like that here. Not that she’d need the AutoCAD. This is way simpler than 3D design. But she would need a computer and a very high-quality printer for the specialty inks.”

“You have that kind of printer here?”

“Yes. But I don’t have fancy ink cartridges. The basic ones are expensive enough.”

“Detective Lotham will be here soon with a warrant. And given that printers store information in their cache, you might as well tell me now.”

Riddenscail shakes his head. “I have nothing to tell. If Livia was counterfeiting licenses, it wasn’t on my watch and it wasn’t here. I haven’t seen her since January. So warrant away. For that matter, this school is covered in cameras. Check them, too. Livia hasn’t been here. If she had... I would’ve tried to get her back into school. I would’ve tried to connect with her, find out what made her go away. I would’ve—”

His voice breaks. He rubs his eyes again.

I want to say something, press the advantage, but I’ve got nothing. Abruptly, I feel stupid, standing in front of a classroom, making a grown man cry.

“Did you ever see Livia with a tall, skinny guy, prone to retro fashion statements?”

Mr. Riddenscail looks right at me. “Older guy? Definitely. At the rec center. He met up with her several times when she was done. I assumed he was her father, come to walk her home. I thought it was sweet.”

“He wasn’t her father,” I inform him, “but her recently paroled half brother. If you see him again, please contact the police immediately.”

“Okay.” Mr. Riddenscail’s voice has dropped again, clearly getting overwhelmed.

“Have you ever heard of Gleeson College?” I press him, trying desperately to gain some shred of data from this conversation. “It’s located in Western Mass.”

“No. But then, I can’t even begin to list all the colleges in Boston.”

“Can I show you something? On your computer. It’ll only take a minute.”

He nods, pushing back from his desk as I take over the keyboard. I load up the website for Gleeson College, scrolling through till I find the picture with Livia in the background. Then I gesture for Riddenscail to join me.

“That certainly looks like Livia. On a college website. Huh.” He frowns, grabbing the mouse and scrolling down the page to view more photos. Then he clicks on various options from the drop-down menu, surfing the site, with its photo after photo of laughing, happy kids sitting before rolling green hills. “Hang on. I may have something for you. I swear I’ve seen this before...”

More internet navigation. Riddenscail flies across the screen, clearly a guy comfortable with technology. He opens and closes a series of pages in rapid succession. I barely have time to note the names of colleges before he’s moved on, one after another after another.

Then: “Got it.” He steps back, indicating for me to move in closer. I study the screen, then frown at him. “You have the website open in two different windows.”

“Look at the title bar.”

I read the headings. Gleeson College, says one. Lannister College, says the other. The photos are the same. Smiling kids in classrooms. Laughing kids hanging out in front of rolling green hills. They aren’t similar; they’re identical.

“Give me a sec.” Riddenscail grabs the keyboard, his fingers flying. He’s back on the page for Gleeson, clicking on links at the bottom. Again, too fast for me to follow.

“Okay, you need a computer forensic specialist to be sure, but this website for Gleeson, it’s months old. As in, this whole college magically sprang to life over the summer. With most of these photos lifted from other colleges’ websites. At least the outside shots and pictures of buildings. And I’m going to guess from several different schools, now that I’m studying it more.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Let me put it this way. I don’t know if Livia was faking licenses, but to judge by this website, she definitely faked a school. Though why you’d invent an entire college...” Riddenscail shakes his head at me. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

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