Lisa Gardner - Before She Disappeared

J.J. shakes his head. His eyes are still wild. I can watch his erratic pulse throbbing at the base of his throat. “My sister didn’t have friends. She was quiet. Kept to herself.”

“Angelique was posing as her,” I repeat.

“Why would my sister keep something like that a secret?”

“I don’t know, J.J. Why would she?”

I can see the answer on his stricken face. Because it would’ve been one more thing for her to lose, in a house filled with a stoned brother and a drunk mother. In a house where she’d probably learned years ago to walk softly and never call undo attention to herself.

“Fuck!” J.J. explodes, waving his pistol, vibrating in place. He’s going to hurt himself. Or me. Or all of the above. Later, he might regret it, but now, caught in waves of unbearable rage and unending grief . . .

Instead of shrinking away, I get right up into his foam-flecked face.

“Your sister’s dead,” I yell at him. “And someone’s gotta pay, right? That’s how it works. She’s dead and some bastard did it and he needs to hurt! He needs to feel this pain. He needs to burn in agony, scream in terror, cower in fear. All of it. Over and over again. Till he feels exactly as terrible and awful as you do right now. I understand, J.J. I want that, too.”

I have his full attention. It wasn’t really that hard. I just had to tell him the words that ten years ago I most wanted to hear.

I grip his left shoulder. “Help me, help her. Can you do that, J.J.? Can you pull yourself together long enough to avenge your sister?”

“Is it Deke? He’s out? He did this?”

J.J. moves to step away. I fist his shirt in my hand and hold on tight. “Fake IDs. What does your sister know about fake IDs?”

“What the hell—”

“Focus, J.J. Focus. Look at me. Listen. There was this kid here two summers ago who was selling really shitty fake IDs. Piss-poor quality. And your sister and Angelique embarrassed him.”

“DommyJ.”

“There you go. Did you ever see him around your home? Your sister mention his name?”

“Nah. But some of the guys talked about it. They said she got him good. And yeah, shitty fakes. I don’t even see the purpose.”

“Your sister knew exactly what was wrong with them. In detail. Why did your sister know so much about fake licenses?”

“I dunno. She’s smart like that. She’s always copying things and doing stuff on the school computer. She’s gonna get out of this place, you know. First member of the family to make good.” He catches himself. The use of the present tense. The statement of a dream that is now past.

The trembling starts again. I smooth my hand on his shoulder, rubbing slightly to soothe.

“Could DommyJ have hurt your sister in retaliation for her shaming him?”

“DommyJ’s nothin’ but a wannabe. Why do you think his fakes were so bad? He doesn’t have the juice to be anything but a poser.”

“Okay. So DommyJ isn’t the badass he pretends to be. What about Deke? He was spotted hanging out around the rec center that summer, watching Livia. Maybe also talking to her?”

“She never said—”

“DommyJ appeared scared of him. So did Livia. Why would they be scared of him?”

J.J. looks down, issues a long, shaking sigh. Some of the tension is finally draining out of him. Less adrenaline, more rational thinking. “If Deke’s out . . . He’s got real connections. From his own days, plus serving time. Around here, you gotta respect that. If he showed up at my front door, I’d have to let him in. I wouldn’t want to, but I’d have to.”

“But he didn’t show up? Didn’t contact your mother? At least not that you’re aware of?”

“I don’t think she’d have anything to do with him. Especially not with Livia in the house. He’s a cold motherfucker. Everyone knows that.”

“Your mother said your house wasn’t safe for girls. Was it Deke she was talking about?”

J.J. doesn’t answer right away. But there’s a look in his eyes. It wasn’t the half brother Roseline Samdi was referring to. It was J.J. and his cronies, and he knows it.

“Would Deke know about making forgeries? Licenses, money, green cards, anything?” I force J.J. to focus on me again. I need him thinking. Angelique Badeau needs him thinking.

“I heard rumors,” J.J. says at last. “Deke with some real OGs, courtesy of his dear old dad. They wanted to go upmarket. None of this drug shit. They wanted to be, like, crime bosses or something. Huge scores, major paydays. Word on the street was that they were in talks with some other gang. Gonna buy their way in. That’s what the robberies were about. Proving themselves.”

“And this other gang dealt in forgeries?”

“I dunno. Umm, coupla years after Deke left, I found some money. In a shoebox, back of the closet. Piles of hundreds. My lucky day, I thought. I started spending them left and right. Money, rent, you name it.”

Drugs.

“Next thing I know, some dude is screaming at me I paid him in fakes. I had no idea what the hell he was talking about. I managed to talk my way out of it, but after that, I hid the rest. Didn’t want to stir up more trouble.”

“Your mother always live at that house? Even with your half brother, Deke?”

“We haven’t gone anywhere.”

“Meaning the fake bills, they could’ve been Deke’s, part of his new criminal enterprise?”

“Coulda. I was just a kid.”

But I’m already nodding. The counterfeit hundreds had to be the older half brother’s stash. It was the only thing that made sense. Part of a larger operation he’d started, only to get busted and sent to prison. He must not have told anyone about it, hence the bills were all but forgotten before J.J. stumbled upon them. Years later, Livia probably did the same.

Except maybe she’d recognized the bills as counterfeit from the start. Either way, she knew enough not to tell her brother J.J. Instead, she smuggled them out of the house, giving them to her new friend, Angelique, for safekeeping.

And became inspired as well? Fake hundreds, fake licenses. Maybe she’d decided to take a crack at it with her own design skills and new and improved computer technology. That part I don’t completely understand yet. More importantly, how did Deke fit into that scenario? Because clearly, he was out of prison and tracking his baby half sister. He approached her? She approached him?

“Was Livia ever close to your half brother?” I ask now.

J.J. shakes his head. “She was three when he took off.”

“Did he seem partial to her? Like protective or anything?”

“Hell if I know. That’s too long ago.”

I nod, decide to come at it from a different direction. “What about school? Did your sister ever mention one of her teachers, Mr. Riddenscail?”

“Nah.”

“He also worked at the rec center. Part of the after-school programming?”

“How many times can I say, I don’t know!”

“It’s okay, J.J. I understand. You had your life, and your sister had hers. And part of your life was to get her out of here. Part of your life was to ensure she could do better.”

He doesn’t answer, but his silence tells me enough.

“Your sister met her teacher, Mr. Riddenscail, here.” I gesture to the rec center behind us. “Your sister also met your older half brother, Deke, on this property. Why, J.J.? I need to know why.”

But J.J. can’t answer the question. I can see it in the growing wildness around his eyes. He loved his sister, but he hadn’t spent time with her. He didn’t know her as well as I needed him to know her right now.

Had anyone?

“I fucking hate you,” J.J. whispers.

“I understand,” I assure him softly. “Some days, I hate me, too. But I’m going to find out who killed your sister, and you’re going to help me. Because she deserved better, right? Because . . . She was Livia Samdi. Bright and clever and alive. And the world should mourn her. All of us should know your pain. She is worth it.”