Dangerous Girls (6 page)

“Anna?”

I don’t register the voice at first, I’m so focused on the tiny screen.

“Anna.” Lamar’s voice is sharper. “Judge Dekker needs to talk to you.” I look up to find the bald guy waiting, his face blank. Tate emerges from the interview room behind him, looking drained, his tall frame slouching.

“I already went,” I tell them.

The Dekker guy gestures for me. “Just a few more questions.”

I don’t want to go back in and talk them through it again; The phone, and the door, and the blood. “I’m tired,” I say, a plaintive note creeping in my voice. “Can’t we do this tomorrow?”

But he’s unmoved. “Miss Chevalier.”

I pull myself upright and stumble toward the room, catching AK’s eye as I go. He looks so freaked, I lean in as I pass.

“It better not take long,” I tell him, managing a weak smile. “I’m so hungry, I could slaughter a goat.”

“She said that?” Dekker pauses
for effect, a note of horror in his voice. “ ‘Slaughter?’ ”

“Yup.” AK is sitting confidently on the witness chair like he’s slouched on the front steps before class, watching cheerleading practice across the lawn. The dazed confusion and thousand-yard stare from that night are long since gone: This is the AK who has a weekly commentator’s spot on the
Clara Rose Show
, offering his valuable opinions on news, crime, and—of course—this case. Last week he closed his million-dollar book deal. Today, he’s wearing a designer shirt and a signature red pocket square in his blazer, all the better to pop for the cameras.

He hasn’t looked at me once during his testimony.

“And what was her mood like that night?” Dekker asks.

My lawyer leaps up. “Objection.”

Dekker sends him a crocodile smile. “Let me rephrase. How was the defendant acting? She must have been very emotional. After all, you’d been through such a terrible trauma.”

I can feel my lawyer tense beside me, like he wants to object again, but he doesn’t.

“She was . . . normal,” AK told him. “That was the weird thing. I mean, we were a wreck. Mel was crying, and Chelsea . . . Max could barely keep it together. But Anna was totally calm. Like nothing had happened.”

“She didn’t cry?” Dekker sounds shocked again, but after the theatrics he’s put on this week, I’m not even surprised. The guy could step into a Broadway production any time he liked.

“Never.” AK shrugs. “Not that I saw, anyway, and I was with her all that night. She didn’t cry when we found the body, or when the police came. She didn’t do anything, except . . .”

“Yes?”

“She hit the vending machine, at the police station. She just exploded, swearing and everything.”

“A violent outburst?” Dekker turns to the room, to drive his point home. It’s packed with reporters, Elise’s family, my former friends lined up to watch the show. I just have my dad with me now, and my lawyer here, trying the best he can.

“It was weird. It freaked us out.” AK nods. “It was just, like, this flash of rage. She looked possessed. And then she hit Melanie.”

“Objection!”

Dekker smirks. “The defense counsel objects to the witness testimony? I wonder why.”

My lawyer glares. “It’s on the record—a slap; Miss Chan was hyperventilating.”

The judge nods impatiently. “So noted, continue.”

Dekker pauses a moment. “No further questions.”

Judge von Koppel makes a note, icy blond and steely-eyed at her table. “Any follow-up?”

I scribble a note to my lawyer. He glances over, then stands. “Mr. Kundra, that slaughter line, it was a running joke in your group, wasn’t it?”

AK coughs. “Uh, yeah.”

“You would remark on your hunger by using bigger and bigger animals,” he explains for the sake of the room. “ ‘I’m so hungry, I could slaughter a pig, or a cow, or an elephant.’ Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, but—”

“In fact, you said it yourself, on many occasions.” He holds a piece of paper. “March eighteenth, your status update. ‘So hungry, could murder a fucking rhino’.”

“Yeah, but that’s a joke!” AK exclaims.

“Right. And that’s what Miss Chevalier was doing, wasn’t it? Joking?”

AK slumps, his self-righteousness gone.

“Mr. Kundra, answer the question.”

“Yeah, she was joking.”

My lawyer turns, giving me a smile, but AK hasn’t finished.

“But who does that?” he asks, his voice loud in the silent courtroom. “Elise was dead. Someone hacked her apart. We still had blood on us, and she’s joking around? Who does that?”

“No further questions,” my lawyer says hurriedly, but it’s too late. There are murmurs of agreement from the crowd as AK heads back to his seat.

The damage is done.

Would it have made a
difference if I had cried? I’ve had long enough to think about it, but even now, I can’t know for sure. If I’d fallen apart, and wept, and screamed. If I’d curled up, shaking, into a ball in the corner of the police station and refused to speak. Would they have believed me then? Or would they have just found another way to spin it: that my grief was remorse, for the terrible thing I’d done. That my outbursts were too fevered, too public, too much for show. An act, to cover my tracks.

The truth is, once Dekker got it in his head that the break-in was staged and one of us killed her, there was nothing I could do. He was coming for me, and every little detail of my life was evidence, if you held it up to the light and looked at it just right.

He was coming for me.

VOICE:
This is Officer Carlsson speaking, also present is investigating judge Dekker. Record of the first questioning of Anna Chevalier, 5:52 a.m.

ANNA:
Second.

CARLSSON
:
What?

ANNA:
It’s the second time I’ve talked to you.

You already interviewed me, before.

CARLSSON:
Yes, but this is on the record now.

And Judge Dekker has some questions too.

ANNA:
A judge? But—this isn’t court.

CARLSSON:
In Aruba, a judge leads the investigation. Just think of him like another detective.

ANNA:
I’m tired. Can we do this tomorrow? I haven’t slept. . . . I haven’t slept all night.

CARLSSON:
This won’t take long. Now, when did you see Elise last?

ANNA:
Should we have a lawyer?

CARLSSON:
I . . .

DEKKER:
You haven’t been arrested. These are simple questions.

ANNA:
But Tate said . . .

DEKKER:
Don’t you want to help find the person who did this? We need you to talk to us if we’re going to find them.

ANNA:
I guess. . . . Okay. Can I get something to drink? Water or something?

DEKKER:
Later.

ANNA:
I’m tired, okay? I need something to drink.

DEKKER:
When you’ve answered our questions.

CARLSSON:
But sir, we shouldn’t—

DEKKER:
Fine. Get her the water. Interview paused, 5:56 a.m.

(pause)

DEKKER:
Interview resumed. So, when did you last see Miss Warren?

ANNA:
Last night. Monday night, I mean. We all went out, to dinner, and the bars along the main strip.

DEKKER:
And then?

ANNA:
Then we all came home and crashed. About two a.m., maybe. That was the last time I saw her.

DEKKER:
She wasn’t there in the morning?

ANNA:
No. (pause) I mean, we thought she was, but I didn’t see her. I went to find her, but her door was locked. So we figured she was crashed out.

DEKKER:
What time was this?

ANNA:
Nine, maybe. We were all booked to go on a dive trip, so the others left around ten. We texted Elise, but she didn’t reply, so we figured she was still asleep.

DEKKER:
Her door was locked. You didn’t find that unusual?

ANNA:
No. I mean, she liked her privacy, and . . . she’d been with Niklas the other night.

DEKKER:
Had she been drinking?

(pause)

DEKKER:
Miss Chevalier?

ANNA:
Yes. We all had. It’s legal here.

DEKKER:
I’m aware.

(pause)

DEKKER
:
Why didn’t you go on the dive trip with your friends?

ANNA:
Me and Tate stayed back. We were . . . tired. Hungover. We figured we’d just hang out on the beach.

DEKKER
:
What time was that?

ANNA:
I don’t know. We left the house around twelve thirty, I think. We chilled on the beach most of the day.

DEKKER:
And you were together all the time?

ANNA:
Yes.

DEKKER:
You didn’t once part? To browse some shops, or use the bathroom?

ANNA:
No.

DEKKER:
You didn’t use the bathroom?

ANNA: No. I mean, yes.

DEKKER:
So you weren’t together.

ANNA:
For, like, two minutes! We were at the café, way down the beach. We used the bathroom there. We bought sodas. You can check. And . . .

DEKKER
:
Yes?

ANNA:
Nothing.

(pause)

DEKKER:
Do you keep a diary?

ANNA:
What?

DEKKER:
A journal, some record of the day?

ANNA:
No. No diary.

DEKKER:
Very well. What time did you return to the house?

ANNA:
Six, maybe? We hung out for a while, showered, and went out to dinner. . . . This pizza place, just down the street. The others had just gotten
home from diving when we got back. That’s when we started to worry and called the cops. Look, I’ve told you all of this already. Can I please just go?

DEKKER:
You were back at the house between six and seven. There was no sign of Elise then?

ANNA:
No. Her door was still closed.

(pause)

ANNA:
I texted to see if she wanted to come eat, but there was no reply. We figured she’d gone out.

DEKKER:
And you didn’t check her room?

ANNA:
No. I mean, we were, you know, busy. If she had been there, she would have come out and talked to us. I went and knocked on her door, but, nothing.

DEKKER:
You didn’t hear anything from her room?”

ANNA:
She was on the other side of the house from us. Me and Tate were by the main doors. And we were busy, so . . .

DEKKER:
Busy doing what?

ANNA:
You know, just hanging out.

DEKKER:
Be specific. What exactly did you do, from the moment you returned home?

ANNA:
I . . . We went to our room, and put some music on.

DEKKER:
The police responder first to the scene says there was blood in the hallway; you didn’t see it?

ANNA:
No, it wasn’t there.

DEKKER:
What do you mean?

ANNA:
When we came in, the blood wasn’t there. It was there later. The blood must have been on our shoes or something, after we found . . . after we found her.

DEKKER:
What happened next, after you and Mr. Dempsey returned to your room? You turned on music and . . .

ANNA:
I can’t remember.

DEKKER:
Try. Did you make any calls? Watch TV, perhaps?

ANNA:
I don’t know. . . . I took a shower, I remember that.

DEKKER:
Where was Mr. Dempsey while you showered?

ANNA:
In the bedroom.

DEKKER:
But you were in the bathroom; you wouldn’t have been able to see him.

ANNA:
Well, no, but it was right off the bedroom. . . . He was right there.

DEKKER:
Was the bathroom door open or closed while you were in the shower?

ANNA:
Open, I think.

DEKKER:
You think, or you know?

ANNA:
I don’t know. Open. Yes. Open. He was right there, on his computer. Why are you asking all this?
What does it have to do with anything?

DEKKER:
I’m just trying to get all the facts. You said music was on. Was it loud?

ANNA:
Not really, no.

DEKKER:
Were you and Mr. Dempsey making much noise?

ANNA:
I don’t . . . I don’t understand.

DEKKER:
You are a couple, no? You were alone in his room for almost an hour. Were you engaged in intercourse?