Beneath Devil's Bridge(24)

“Yes,” I say. “Yes, let’s lead into Tom’s interview with that clip.”





RACHEL


THEN


Monday, November 24, 1997.

“Amy Chan is fifteen?” Luke asks as we approach the front entrance to the Chan house on the cliffs. Already their Christmas lights have been strung up. From this vantage point, through the shifting mists, we can see the valley in the distance, where the commercial hub of Twin Falls nestles between rivers and ocean. I can also see pricks of lights from the pulp mill across the sound. The wind is blowing in our direction from the mill. It carries the stench of the sulfurous chemicals used in the pulping process. At times the stink can be nauseating.

“Just turned fifteen.” I reach for the doorbell. “Only child. Her mother brought her into the station to make the statement about seeing Leena on the bridge.”

The doorbell gives a hollow chime.

The door opens.

Amy, a pretty and petite teen with dark-brown eyes and shoulder-length hair, stands in the white marble hallway. She wears a soft pink sweatshirt and leggings. Socked feet. Behind her a round table of glossy, dark wood holds a vase of blooms that have got to be fake. Or a very extravagant greenhouse import at this time of year.

“Hello, Amy,” I say. “How are you doing?”

“Good.” She’s nervous. Shifting weight from foot to foot.

“This is Sergeant Luke O’Leary. He’s helping with the investigation into Leena’s death. We’d like to ask you a few more questions about that night you saw her. We’d like to see if you remember anything else. Is either of your parents home?”

“My mom.”

“Can we come in?”

Amy steps back to allow us inside. Her mother, Sarah Chan, appears in the entrance hall. Surprise widens her eyes at the sight of us. She’s an older echo of her daughter, but with a chic bob that swings at her jawline. She, too, appears edgy. I explain why we’ve come, and she invites us into a living room with plush cream carpeting, white furniture, and a view over town. In the distance I can see the silver gleam of the Wuyakan River, and a chill sinks through me. Leena was floating in that water for more than a week before Amy came forward. Floating while people looked out their windows at the river, drove over the bridge in cars and school buses.

Luke and I sit gingerly on the very white chairs. Amy and her mother take a seat together on the sofa, much as Pratima and Jaswinder did. Close together for moral support.

I note their clothes, their overt comforts, and I think of the cheap camisole tangled around Leena’s neck. No Fruit of the Loom value-pack undies for the Chan women, I’m sure.

“Can I get you tea, coffee, anything?” Sarah asks.

“No, we’re fine,” I say. “We’d like to once more run through what Amy saw on the bridge that night, if that’s okay?” I take out my notebook and pen.

The Chan women both nod. Once more, Luke slips into the role of the outsider looking in. Assessing. And I get the strong feeling he’s weighing me and my reactions as much as he is the witnesses, which unsettles me.

“So, Amy, you came with your mother into the station on Friday morning, November twenty-first.”

Amy nods. Her hands fidget in her lap.

“That’s almost a whole week after Leena Rai was reported missing. Why did you wait so many days?”

Amy glances at her mother. “I . . . I’m so sorry. I . . . didn’t know she was dead. I—”

Her mother places a hand over her daughter’s. Amy falls silent.

“Okay, let’s dial back a bit.” I consult my notebook. “You told the officer on duty that you were with your boyfriend, Jepp Sullivan, at around two a.m. on Saturday, November fifteenth, driving over Devil’s Bridge, when you saw Leena Rai stumbling along the sidewalk, is that right?”

“Yes,” she says in a small voice.

“What were you doing on the bridge at two a.m.?”

Another nervous glance at her mom. Her mother nods. “Go ahead, love. It’s okay.”

“We’d been to the bonfire in the woods, at the grove. Jepp and I left the fire around one thirty a.m. He was driving, and we were on our way over the bridge to Ari’s Greek Takeout—they’re always open late, and they . . . It’s like a thing to go get donairs after parties and stuff.”

“Good hangover food,” offers Luke.

Amy says nothing. Ari’s is well known to the Twin Falls PD as a late-night joint. Breaking up drunken brawls outside Ari’s is not uncommon. Which is why Ari Gamoulakos had CCTV installed. I make a mental note to check whether the footage from that night is still available.

“Jepp has his own car?” I ask.

“Well, it’s sort of Darsh Rai’s. Jepp has a deal with Darsh where he’s paying it off to own it. Darsh got it cheap and fixed it up.”

“Had you guys been drinking?” I ask.

“Jepp was fine to drive. He only had one beer the whole evening. He’s really good that way. He’s training hard and all. He wants a basketball scholarship.”

“Okay, run me through what you saw as you guys drove over the bridge.”

“There was a full moon. Big. It was clear. And there was a really, really cold wind blowing off the sea. That’s what struck me—the sight of someone walking in that freezing wind. I saw long dark hair blowing. And then I saw the shape of the jacket, and the person, and I realized it was Leena.”