Before She Disappeared(57)

“That sounds suspiciously familiar. And they never contacted police?”

“According to the mom, Roseline, it wasn’t the first time Livia had disappeared. Sometimes the girl wouldn’t come home on Friday but would show up to school on Monday like nothing happened. Lost weekends. Even a week here and there. Let’s just say, given the . . . nature . . . of the household, I’m surprised they noticed that much.”

“What did Livia take with her?”

“That’s the thing. According to the mom, Livia’s clothes, personal possessions are mostly accounted for. She didn’t own a computer, just a cell phone, which disappeared with her. We tried pinging it with no luck. But we’re now pulling a record of calls and texts from the provider. Will be interesting to see if the phone is genuinely no longer in use, or just activated in short intervals.”

“Had they heard of Angelique Badeau?”

“The mom recognized the name from the news, that’s it.”

“So they didn’t know she and Livia were friends?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure the mom knew any of Livia’s friends. Or hobbies, or favorite color. Not that kind of family.”

“In other words, the complete opposite of Angelique’s family.” I pause, my hands still on a back of a chair. “I wonder what brought the girls together? Opposites attract? Angelique the caretaker thinking she could help out with Livia’s sad life?”

Lotham shrugs.

“Livia have a history of drinking and drugs?”

“Given the family, I would say yes to both. But they aren’t talking about it.”

“Maybe a school guidance counselor can tell you more.”

“Which is where I’ll be first thing in the morning.”

“So much for sticking around for a late breakfast,” I grumble.

That earns me the detective’s full attention. His eyes darken. He stands ten feet away, still holding the broom, but there’s suddenly not enough air in the room.

“This is what we do know,” he says softly. “Angelique is alive, and she needs help.”

I nod.

“She is somehow connected to Livia Samdi, another missing girl. And we are absolutely, positively, not mentioning anything about red hats to the press.”

“Your hold-back detail.”

“Not to mention, we don’t need dozens of sightings of people in red ball caps tying up resources.”

“What about Angelique’s appearance today? Will you ramp back up the investigation?”

“We are taking the sighting very seriously. But as far as the public knows, we have no confirmation that was Angelique in the store today. Which works well with the clerk’s maybe, kind of, not really sure statement.”

“You don’t want to involve the public?” I ask in surprise. “Reissue the Amber Alert?”

Lotham leans against the broom. “Angelique clearly has some freedom of movement but doesn’t feel like she can come home—”

“She needs help! Help us. She said it herself.”

“Exactly. She feels threatened and in danger. Until we understand more about that threat, who and what it involves, the safest approach is to follow her lead and keep things quiet. We’re adding more officers to the case, don’t worry. But our official position, which I need to know you will support, is that there’s nothing new to see here.”

“Don’t insult me,” I tell him harshly. I return to stacking chairs. I honestly can’t decide what I think of this.

“You’re going to inform Angelique’s family of the new sighting,” I say after another moment.

“The fewer people who know, the better.”

“Are you kidding me?” Now he does have my attention. “You have a significant lead and you’re not going to notify Guerline and Emmanuel?”

“When we know more, have something specific to share—”

“Oh, come on. You wouldn’t even have these latest discoveries without Emmanuel. The family trusts you, they came to you—”

“Actually, Emmanuel came to you—”

“And you wonder why? They knew then that you were holding back, and it did nothing but fuel further mistrust.”

Lotham remains calm and controlled: “Look me in the eye and tell me you’ve never lied to a family. Never omitted a detail, buried a lead. You do this work, you know how it is.”

I scowl. But I can’t look him in the eye and we both know it. I’ve made this judgment call before myself. I just don’t agree it’s the right approach with Angelique’s aunt and brother.

I stack more chairs. Lotham returns to sweeping. Stoney appears and tends to the register.

Viv finishes first. Her husband no sooner appears on the other side of the smoked-glass doors than Viv comes bustling out, putting on her jacket. Telepathy after so many years of marriage? Or does he text her upon arrival? I don’t know why I prefer the more romantic option.

Stoney takes off next. One last glance between Lotham and me. Then with some sort of mental shrug, he disappears out the side door. Lotham puts away the broom. I finish up cleaning the bar area.

Then that’s it. Work is done. The customers and other employees gone. There’s just this man and me, and a homicidal cat upstairs.