Before She Disappeared(105)



Paul, eyes fluttering open. “You are so beautiful. First time I saw you . . . I knew you were the one. So many, I tried to fix. But you . . . You healed me. I love you, Amy. Forever and always. I love you, for loving me.”

Me, keening, keening, keening.

As her name goes on and on. Amy Amy Amy. The woman he truly loved. The woman who loved him.

The woman I could never be.

There are no sirens now. No final declarations of love. A long, shuddery sigh.

“Livia,” he whispers.

Then I watch the life expel out of Deke Alarie. I feel his hand go limp in mine.

I bend over long enough to close his eyelids. I brush a soft kiss over his forehead. I thank him for trying to save Emmanuel and Angelique. I bless him for having the fortitude to tell me what I need to know.

Where I must go next.

When I finally rise to standing, I’m coated in blood and tears. And once more, that night, so long ago.

“I love you, Amy . . .”

I accept the pain as my due.

Then I grab Emmanuel’s backpack and I start to run. There’s not much time anymore. But finally, I know exactly where to find Angelique, as well as her brother.

I know how to get this one right.





CHAPTER 36




I dial 911 as I race toward the wide boulevard, then track north. I rant about a gunshot victim in a back alley. I tell the confused dispatch operator it’s Deke Alarie and he’s already dead and Officer O’Shaughnessy is in the vicinity and please let him know. And P.S., please tell a guy named Charlie that I’m sorry. Then I hang up before the operator can ask me any more questions.

Next I call Lotham’s cell. He answers instantly this time, already on high alert.

“Where are you?”

“They have Angelique and Emmanuel. Deke tried to stop them. He’s dead.” I tell him where I’m going, then warn, “Lights off, sirens quiet. If they know the police are there . . .”

Lotham doesn’t require further explanation. I think of his broad face, his mangled ear. I think he’s a good man, an excellent detective, and if anyone can get this done . . . I think, if I get shot next, he’s the one I would like to hold my hand.

He’s not speaking. I hear his thoughts instead. His quiet desperation for me to go home, be safe. His relentless need to save Angelique, to protect me.

But maybe I am growing on him, because he doesn’t say the words out loud anymore. He doesn’t tell me to do things we both know I won’t do. I hang up the phone. I keep running.

Toward where it all began two summers ago. Where it will end tonight.

The rec center.

And its kindly director, Frédéric Lagudu.



* * *





I come upon the van first. It is parked out front, the back doors slung open, the inside empty. I don’t dare use my pocket flashlight to examine it more closely. I sniff instead, catching the unmistakable scent of blood. From Deke, before they dumped him? Or am I already too late?

I refuse to believe that Emmanuel is dead, if only because I can’t bear the thought. All of my other cases, I’ve pursued my target from a distance, never having met the missing person in question. But Emmanuel, I’ve talked to him, comforted him. He’s just a boy. He doesn’t deserve this.

I creep my way around the giant metal building. I don’t see any trace of lights or detect any sounds of activity. But I know how immense the building is. Plenty of internal classrooms and smaller storage spaces that aren’t noticeable from the outside. What was it Mr. Riddenscail said? The operation could be as simple as a single computer and printer. Wouldn’t require much square footage at all.

Did that mean Livia and Angelique had been there every time I’d visited? And Frédéric, holed up in his office bright and early each morning, hadn’t been the diligent savior of at-risk teens I’d thought him to be?

In hindsight, the description of the driver who’d dumped Livia’s body, a tall, thin Black man, fit Frédéric as well as Deke; I’d simply never connected those dots before. Combine that with Deke’s comment that “they” had seen me talking to J.J.—that conversation had taken place outside the rec center. Again, all roads leading back to this one enormous building. Where Livia and Angelique had first met. Where someone in Frédéric’s position would have plenty of opportunity to scope out their talent. He’d probably been recruiting local kids for various enterprises for years. Well over a decade, if Deke knew him from his days before prison. So many things that now made sense, if only I’d paid attention sooner.

Now, I try to remember the name of the shorter, muscular man who’d been in the building the first time I’d visited. Dutch? Something like that. According to Deke, there were multiple other players. Certainly Dutch would make for excellent hired muscle. Though there could be criminal partners I’d never met before. One, two, half a dozen?

I still don’t know what I don’t know.

Which doesn’t stop me from creeping around to the rear entrance, slowly cracking open the heavy glass door.

I pause, listening intently. No alarms sound, no bodies materialize on the other side. I slide myself through, halting again to get my bearings.

I can just make out a light down the long corridor, near Frédéric’s office. Which presents me with my first obstacle. Discovered in that corridor, I’ll be a sitting duck. And these guys have real guns they’re not afraid to use. Unlike me, who is the proud owner of a red rape whistle.

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