Pip stood before the front door and willed it to open. How long had it been since she’d knocked? The seconds grew syrupy and thick as the door stared her down, each minute stretching into forever. When Pip could stand it no longer, she removed the container of muffins from under her arm and turned to walk away. The disappointment burned.
Only a few steps down the path, she heard the sound of scraping and clicking and turned back to see Ravi Singh in the doorway, his hair ruffled and his face drawn tight in confusion.
“Oh,” Pip said in a high-pitched voice that wasn’t her own. “Sorry; I thought you told me to come back Friday. Today’s Friday.”
“Um, yeah, I did,” Ravi said, scratching the back of his head, with his eyes somewhere around Pip’s ankles. “But…honestly…I thought you were just messing with me. I wasn’t expecting you to actually come back.”
Pip tried her best to not look hurt. “I’m not messing, I promise. I’m serious.”
“Yeah, you seem like the serious type.” The back of his head must have been exceptionally itchy. Or maybe Ravi Singh’s itchy head was the equivalent of Pip’s overexplaining.
“I’m irrationally serious.” Pip smiled, holding the Tupperware out to him. “And I made muffins.”
“Like bribery muffins?”
“That’s what the recipe said, yeah.”
Ravi’s mouth twitched; not quite a smile. Pip only then appreciated how hard his life must be in this town, the specter of his dead brother reflected in his own face. It’s no wonder smiling was hard for him.
“So, can I come in?”
“Fine,” he said after an almost devastating pause, stepping back to let her into the house.
“Thank you, thank you,” Pip said quickly, and tripped over the front step in her eagerness.
Raising an eyebrow, Ravi shut the door and asked if she’d like a cup of coffee.
“Yes, please.” Pip stood awkwardly in the hallway, trying to take up as little space as possible. “Black, please.”
“I’ve never trusted anyone who takes their coffee black.” He gestured for her to follow him into the kitchen.
The room was wide and exceptionally bright; the far wall was one giant panel of sliding glass doors that opened onto a long garden exploding with the blush of summer and winding vines.
“How do you have it, then?” Pip asked, resting her backpack on one of the kitchen chairs.
“Milk and three sugars,” he said, starting the coffee maker.
“Three sugars? Three?”
“I know. Clearly I’m not sweet enough already.”
Pip watched Ravi clatter around the kitchen, the sputtering inferno sounds of the machine excusing the silence between them. He tapped his fingers on the counter as he waited for the coffee. The nervous energy was contagious as he went about pouring and sugaring and milking, and Pip’s heart quickened to match his tapping fingers.
He brought the two mugs over, holding Pip’s by the scorching base so she could take it by the handle.
“Your parents aren’t here?” she asked, setting the mug down on the table.
“Nope.” He took a sip, and Pip noted, thankfully, that he wasn’t a slurper. “And if they were, you wouldn’t be. We try not to talk about Sal too much; it upsets Mom. It upsets everyone, actually.”
“I can’t even imagine,” Pip said quietly. It didn’t matter that five years had passed; this was still raw for Ravi—it was written all over his face.
“It’s not just that he’s gone. It’s that…well, we’re not allowed to grieve for him, because of what happened. And if I say ‘I miss my brother,’ it makes me some kind of monster.”
“I don’t think it does.”
“Me neither, but I’m guessing you and I are in the minority there.”
Pip took a sip of her coffee to fill the silence, but it was far too hot, and her eyes prickled and filled.
“Crying already? We haven’t even got to the sad parts.” Ravi’s right eyebrow peaked up on his forehead.
“Hot,” Pip gasped, her tongue scorched and fluffy.
“Let it cool down for a second, or, you know, a few sequential seconds.”
Of course. Of course that would be the one thing he remembered from their introduction. Good one, Pip. She hoped she wasn’t blushing.
“So, what questions did you want to ask me?” he said.
She looked down at the phone in her lap. “Do you mind if I record us, so I can type it up later?”
“Sounds like a fun Friday night.”
“I’ll take that as you don’t mind.” Pip opened the zipper on her metallic backpack and pulled out her bundle of notes.
“What are those?” He pointed.
“Prepared questions.” She shuffled the papers to straighten the stack.
“Oh wow, you’re really into this, aren’t you?” He looked at her with an expression that quivered somewhere between quizzical and skeptical.
“Yep.”
“Should I be nervous?”
“Not yet,” said Pip, fixing him with one last look before pressing the red record button. She caught just the tail end of a smile.
PIPPA FITZ-AMOBI
8/2/19
CAPSTONE PROJECT LOG—ENTRY 4
TRANSCRIPT OF INTERVIEW WITH RAVI SINGH
PIP: So, how old are you?
RAVI: Why?
PIP: Just trying to get all the facts straight.
RAVI: OK, Sergeant, I just turned twenty.
PIP: (laughs) [Oh my god, my laugh is atrocious on audio. I’m never laughing again.] And Sal was three years older than you?
RAVI: Yes.
PIP: Do you remember your brother acting strangely on Friday, April 18, 2014?
RAVI: Wow, straight in there. Um, no, not at all. We had an early dinner at, like, seven, before my dad dropped him at Max’s, and he was just chatting along, like normal Sal. If he was secretly planning a murder, it wasn’t at all obvious to us. He was…upbeat; I’d say that was a good description.
PIP: And what about when he returned from Max’s?
RAVI: I had already gone up to bed. But the next morning I remember him being in a really good mood. Sal was always a morning person. He got up and made breakfast for us all, and it wasn’t until just after that he got a phone call from one of Andie’s friends. That’s when we found out she was missing. From that point, obviously, he wasn’t upbeat anymore; he was worried.
PIP: So neither Andie’s parents nor the police called him on Friday night?
RAVI: Not that I know of. Andie’s parents didn’t really know Sal. He’d never met them or been to their house. Andie usually came around here, or they hung out at school and parties.
PIP: How long had they been together?
RAVI: Since just before Christmas the year before, so about four months. Sal did have a couple of missed calls from one of Andie’s best friends at, like, two a.m. that night. His phone was on silent, though, so he slept through them.
PIP: So what else happened on that Saturday?
RAVI: Well, after finding out Andie was missing, Sal literally sat by his phone, calling her every few minutes. It went to voicemail each time, but he figured if she’d pick up for anyone, it’d be him.
PIP: Wait, so Sal was calling Andie’s phone?
RAVI: Yeah, like a million times, throughout that weekend and on the Monday too.
PIP: Doesn’t sound like the kind of thing you’d do if you knew you had murdered the person and they would never pick up.
RAVI: Especially if he had her phone hidden somewhere on him or in his room.
PIP: An even better point. So what else happened that day?
RAVI: My parents told him not to go to Andie’s house, because the police would be busy searching it. So he just sat at home, trying to call her. I asked him if he had any idea where she’d be, and he was stumped. He said something else I’ve always remembered. He said that everything Andie did was deliberate, and maybe she’d run off on purpose to punish someone. Obviously, by the end of the weekend, he realized that probably wasn’t the case.
PIP: Who would Andie be wanting to punish? Him?
RAVI: I don’t know; I didn’t push it. I didn’t know her well; she only came around a handful of times. I mean, I presumed the “someone” Sal was talking about was Andie’s dad.
PIP: Jason Bell? Why?
RAVI: I just overheard some stuff when she was here. I figured she didn’t have the best relationship with her dad. I can’t remember anything specifically.
PIP: So when did the police contact Sal?
RAVI: It was that Saturday afternoon. They called him and asked if they could come over for a chat. They arrived at, like, three or four-ish. Me and my parents came into the kitchen to give them a bit of space, so we didn’t hear any of it really.
PIP: And did Sal tell you what they asked him?
RAVI: A bit. He was a little freaked out that they recorded it and st—
PIP: The police recorded it? Is that normal?
RAVI: I don’t know, you’re the sergeant. They said it was routine and just asked him questions about where he was that night, who he was with. And about his and Andie’s relationship.
PIP: And what was their relationship like?
RAVI: I’m his brother; I didn’t see all that much of it. But yeah, Sal liked her a lot. I mean, he seemed pretty pleased he was with the prettiest, most popular girl in the grade. Andie always seemed to bring drama, though.
PIP: What kind of drama?
RAVI: I don’t know. I think she was just one of those people that thrives on it.
PIP: Did your parents like her?
RAVI: Yeah, my parents were cool with her. She never gave them a reason not to be.
PIP: And so what else happened after the police interviewed him?
RAVI: Um, his friends came by in the evening, you know, to check if he was OK.
PIP: And is that when he asked his friends to lie to the police and give him an alibi?
RAVI: I guess so.
PIP: Why do you think he did that?
RAVI: I mean, I don’t know. Maybe he was panicked after the police interview. Maybe he was scared he would be a suspect, so he tried to cover himself. I don’t know.
PIP: Presuming Sal’s innocence, do you have any idea where he could have been between leaving Max’s at 10:30 and getting home at 12:50?
RAVI: No, because he also told us that he started walking home from Max’s at like 12:15. I guess maybe he was alone somewhere, so he knew that if he told the truth, he’d have no alibi. It looks bad, doesn’t it?
PIP: It doesn’t look great, but it’s not absolute proof he had anything to do with Andie’s death. What happened on the Sunday?
RAVI: On the Sunday afternoon me, Sal, and his friends volunteered to help put up some Missing posters, hand them out to people in town. On the Monday I didn’t see much of him at school, but it must have been pretty hard for him because all anyone was talking about was Andie’s disappearance.
PIP: I’m sure.
RAVI: Police were there too. I saw them looking through Andie’s locker. Yeah, so that night he was a little off. He was quiet, but he was worried, that’s what you’d expect. His girlfriend was missing. And the next day—
PIP: You don’t have to talk about the next day if you don’t want to.
RAVI: (small pause) It’s OK. We walked into school together, and I went off to registration, leaving Sal behind in the parking lot. He wanted to sit outside for a minute. That was the last time I ever saw him. And all I said was “See you later.” I…I knew the police were at school; rumor was they were talking to Sal’s friends. And it wasn’t until like two-ish that I saw my mom had been trying to call me, so I went home and my parents told me that the police really needed to speak to Sal and had I seen him. I think officers had been searching his bedroom. I tried calling Sal, too, but it just rang out. My dad showed me this text he got, the last time they’d heard from Sal.
PIP: Do you remember what it said?
RAVI: Yeah, it said: It was me. I did it. I’m so sorry. And…[small pause] it was later that evening when the police came back. My parents went to answer the door, and I stayed in here listening. When they said they’d found a body in the woods, I was so sure for a second that it was Andie they were talking about.
PIP: And…I don’t want to be insensitive, but the sleeping pills….
RAVI: Yeah, they were Dad’s. He was taking phenobarbitals for his insomnia. He blamed himself afterward. Doesn’t take anything anymore. He just doesn’t sleep much.
PIP: And had you ever before thought that Sal could be suicidal?
RAVI: Never, not once. Sal was literally the happiest person there was. He was always laughing and messing around. It’s cheesy, but he was the kind of person that lit up a room when he walked into it. He was the best at everything he ever did. He was my parents’ golden child, their straight-A student. Now they’re left with just me.
PIP: And, sorry, but the biggest question then: Do you think Sal killed Andie?
RAVI: I…No, no I don’t. I can’t think that. It just doesn’t make sense to me. Sal was one of the nicest people on the planet, you know? He never lost his temper ever, no matter how much I ragged on him. He was never one of those boys that got into fights. He was the greatest big brother anyone could have, and he always came to my rescue when I needed it. He was the best person I ever knew. So I have to say no. But then, I don’t know—the police seem so sure, and the evidence…Yeah, I know it looks bad for Sal. But I still can’t believe he had it in him.
PIP: I understand. I think those are all the questions I need to ask for now.
RAVI: (sits back and lets out a long sigh) So, Pippa—
PIP: You can call me Pip.
RAVI: Pip, then. You said this is for a school project?
PIP: It is.
RAVI: But why? Why did you choose this? Sure, maybe you don’t believe Sal did it, but why do you want to prove it? No one else in this town has trouble believing my brother was a monster. They’ve all moved on.
PIP: My best friend, Cara…She’s Naomi Ward’s sister.
RAVI: Oh, Naomi. She was always nice to me. Always over at our house, following Sal around like a puppy. She was 100 percent in love with him.
PIP: Really?
RAVI: I always thought so. The way she laughed at everything he said, even the unfunny stuff. Don’t think he felt the same way back, though.
PIP: Hm.
RAVI: So you’re doing this for Naomi? I still don’t get it.
PIP: No, it’s not that. What I meant was…I knew Sal.
RAVI: You did?
PIP: Yeah. He was over at the Wards’ house a lot when I was there. One time he let us watch an R-rated movie with them, even though Cara and I were only twelve. It was a comedy, and I can still remember how much I laughed. Even when I didn’t quite get the movie, because Sal’s laugh was so contagious.
RAVI: Kind of high and giggly?
PIP: Yeah. And when I was ten, he accidentally taught me my first swear word. “Shit,” by the way. And another time he taught me how to flip pancakes because I was useless at it but too stubborn to let someone do it for me.
RAVI: He was a good teacher.
PIP: And when I was in my first year at middle school, these two boys were picking on me. I cried about it at the Wards’ house, and Sal gave me his KitKat to cheer me up and told me exactly what to say to the bullies. Something like did they really want to get expelled for bullying and start from scratch at a completely new school where they didn’t know anyone. It worked—they never picked on me again. Since then, I’ve…Well, never mind.
RAVI: Hey, come on, share. I let you have your interview—even though your bribery muffins taste like cheese.
PIP: Since then, he’s always been a hero to me. I just can’t believe he did it.
PIPPA FITZ-AMOBI
8/6/19
CAPSTONE PROJECT LOG—ENTRY 5
I’ve just spent two hours researching this: I think I can send a request to the Connecticut State Police for a copy of Sal’s police interview under the Freedom of Information Act.
There are certain exemptions to disclosing information under the FOIA, like if the requested material relates to an ongoing investigation or if it would invade an individual’s privacy by divulging personal information. But Sal is dead, so they’d have no reason to withhold his interview, right? I might as well see if I can get access to other police records from the Andie Bell investigation too.
On another note, I can’t get these things Ravi said about Jason Bell out of my head. That Sal thought Andie had run away to punish someone and that her relationship with her father was strained.
Jason and Dawn Bell got divorced not long after Andie’s death certificate was issued (this is common Fairview knowledge, and I corroborated it with a quick Facebook investigation). Jason moved away and is now living in a town about fifteen minutes from here. It wasn’t long after their divorce that he started appearing in pictures with a pretty blond lady who looks a little too young for him. It appears they are married now.
I’ve been on YouTube watching hours and hours of footage from the early press conferences after Andie went missing. I can’t believe I never noticed it before, but there’s something a bit off about Jason. The way he squeezes his wife’s arm just a little too hard when she starts crying about Andie, the way he shifts his shoulder so he can push her back from the microphone when he decides she’s said enough. The voice breaks that sound a little forced when he says: “Andie, we love you so much” and “Please come home; you won’t be in trouble.” The way Becca, Andie’s sister, shrinks under his gaze.
And then during the evening press conference on Monday, April 21, I noticed something HUGE. Jason Bell said, “We just want our girl back. We are completely broken and don’t know what to do with ourselves. If you know where she is, please tell her to call home so we know she’s safe. Andie was such a huge presence in our home; it’s too quiet without her.”
WAS. PAST TENSE. This was before any of the Sal stuff had happened. Everyone thought Andie was still alive at this point. But Jason Bell said WAS.
Was that just an innocent mistake, or was he using the past tense because he already knew his daughter was dead? Did Jason Bell slip up?
From what I’ve learned, Jason and Dawn were at a dinner party that night, and Andie was supposed to pick them up. Could he have left the party at some point? And if not, even if he has a solid alibi, that doesn’t mean he can’t somehow be involved in Andie’s disappearance.
If I’m creating a persons of interest list, I think Jason Bell is going to have to be the first name.
PERSONS OF INTEREST
Jason Bell