“You’re no teenager,” Charlie tells me.

I smile wanly. “But I do have secrets.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Frankie Elkin. I’m an alcoholic. I work as a bartender at Stoney’s, having just moved into the area. But I also have another passion—I work missing persons cases. Particularly cold cases. And yes, I came to Mattapan because of Angelique Badeau. I would like to find her.”

Charlie doesn’t speak right away. Neither does the female officer, who’s been shamelessly eavesdropping.

“Did you really spot Angelique Badeau?” I ask now.

“I’ve been looking at her photo for eleven months. Hell yes, I saw the girl.”

“Was there anyone else with her or did she appear to be alone?”

“Alone.”

“And when she exited? Anyone waiting outside?”

“Didn’t get that far. Had to drag some fat-ass mall cop off my foot before I could follow.”

Now our cop chaperone smirks.

“Did she walk away or get into a car?”

“Don’t know that either. But—” Charlie points up, to below the store awning where I can see two different cameras. “Cops should be able to answer that question soon enough.”

“What was her mood?” I ask, still trying to understand.

“Didn’t notice right away. But once I started staring, she got fidgety. Then she bolted and ran.”

“You ever meet her before, Charlie?”

“Not so much for a hot minute. This city ain’t that small, and our paths don’t exactly cross.”

“Charlie, I went to the rec center today. Talked to the director, Frédéric. You said your and Angelique’s paths didn’t cross, but she attended the summer program there, and you volunteer there.”

“I help out after school, mentoring young Black males, teach ’em skills like cooking, so they can get a job and stay out of the life. Maybe that girl was also in the center, but I never saw her. Not like she’d be in one of my groups. She in trouble?”

“I think so.”

“So why run? She’s out buying a phone on her own. Why not ask for help?”

“I don’t know.”

“But she’s clearly alive and still hasn’t returned home. Meaning maybe she doesn’t want to. Maybe she has a good reason to stay away.”

I understand his point. Two public sightings of Angelique in two weeks. Both times she’s bearing fake ID and appears to be acting independently. And yet, it still doesn’t make any sense to me. The Angelique her family knew would never willingly disappear. Let alone her coded message: Help us. I simply don’t believe she’s a runaway. But as to what is going on...?

“How did she look?” I ask at last. “Tired? Rested? Well fed? Starving?”

Charlie has to think about it. He shrugs at last. “Looked like a teenage girl. Blue jeans, light gray sweatshirt. Had an emblem on the front, but I couldn’t make it out from my angle.”

“And her face?”

“Couldn’t see it. She was wearing a hat.”

“A red hat?”