Crushed (19 page)

Emily turned into the long driveway and parked next to the four-car garage. “Are you going to be okay in the car for a sec?” she asked Iris. “I won’t be long, I promise.”

Iris slumped down in the seat and looked at a copy of
Us Weekly
she’d stolen from Wawa. “Why can’t you just get whatever it is from your friend at school?”

“Because, um, she’s sick,” Emily said stupidly.

Iris gave her a strange look, but Emily fled the car before she could ask anything else.

Spencer pulled her inside and once again led her down into the basement. Aria was already inside the panic room, pacing back and forth. And Hanna, who looked even more made-up and coiffed today, was sitting on the denim couch, looking at Aria plaintively. “So Mike didn’t ride to school with you? Do you know where he is right now? How can I talk to him if I can’t use my stupid cell phone?”

“He was at Byron’s last night—I was at Ella’s.” Aria looked apologetic. “What were you guys fighting about, anyway?”

“Guys, we don’t have much time,” Spencer interrupted, and everyone looked at her. “I got another note from Agent Fuji,” she continued worriedly, her eyes darting around the security screens. “She says there’s something we didn’t tell her. She wanted to talk to me.”

“She wants to talk to me, too!” Hanna whispered. “Are you going to?”

“What do
you
think?” Spencer looked horrified. “I deleted the message. I’m going to pretend I didn’t get it.”

Emily sat down next to Hanna. “Do you think A said something?”

Spencer sank to the metal swivel chair next to the monitors. “I don’t know. Has anyone heard from A?”

Hanna tentatively raised a hand. “A sent me a note. It was about prom, but A left it at the front desk of the burn clinic.”

Spencer widened her eyes. “So A knows you’ve been volunteering there?”

“I guess.” Hanna’s face was ashen. “But that doesn’t mean A knows
why
, right?”

“The only notes I got were the two about the painting investigation,” Aria said, perching on the couch’s arm. “Which is scary. They’ve opened the case back up. Maybe
that’s
what Fuji wants to talk to us about.”

Emily shifted worriedly. “Maybe A is pissed off because he or she doesn’t know our new cell numbers. Maybe he gave Fuji some intel as punishment.”

“That’s what I was worried about, too,” Spencer said. “What do you think A told Fuji?”

“Who knows?” Emily mumbled.

For a moment, no one said anything. On the monitors, Emily could see her Volvo parked at the curb. Iris turned a page of her magazine, looking like she was about to fall asleep.

Then Spencer pulled the suspects list out of her bag and pinned it to the wall. Quite a few names had been crossed off—all the girls. There was a wiggly line through Darren Wilden and a question mark next to Jason. Only Graham’s and Noel’s names were unmarked. Emily caught Aria staring at it. It wasn’t a surprise to her—last night, Emily had stopped over at her house to tell her they’d narrowed down the list to only guys. Aria opened her mouth to say something, then shut it fast.

“What?” Emily asked.

Aria shook her head. “Nothing.”

Emily cleared her throat. “So does anyone have any thoughts about who Ali might have met at Keppler Park?” She’d shared her discovery with Hanna and Aria last night.

Hanna shook her head. Aria cleared her throat awkwardly and turned away. “Nope.” Her voice squeaked.

Emily watched Aria’s face, but she gave nothing away. Spencer was watching, too. “Are you
sure
?” she pressed. “Maybe Noel has been there?”

Aria fiddled with the grommets on the couch. “I said I was sure, didn’t I? Noel isn’t A.”

“I know you don’t want to believe it, Aria,” Spencer said soothingly. “But the more we find out, the more sense Noel makes.”

Aria’s eyes flashed. “All we’ve found out is that A might be a guy and that Ali had a boyfriend. That could be anyone.”

“There’s more than that.” Spencer twirled the pen in her hands. “It turns out that someone stole a bunch of prescription medications from the Bill Beach last spring. It might have been the person who was taking care of Ali.”

Aria wrinkled her nose. “So? Noel doesn’t have a connection to the Bill Beach. As far as I know, he’s never even
been
there.”

“He knows Sean, though,” Spencer pointed out. “They run in the same circles. Maybe Noel got Sean to slip him the passcode to get into the building.”

Aria burst out laughing. “Are we talking about the same Sean? He’d never do that.”

“True.” Hanna shoved her hands in her jacket pockets. “But, Aria, Noel
was
acting weird at the assembly yesterday. He asked if there was anything going on with you. Then he brought up Iceland out of the blue. Why would he do that?”

Aria pressed her lips together. “That
is
kind of strange,” she admitted. But then she shook her head vigorously. “It still doesn’t mean anything. I asked Noel about whether he sensed that the ‘Courtney’ who returned wasn’t who she said she was, and he got really upset and defensive. After that, there was no way I was going to ask him if he’d taken a little jaunt to Iceland to murder Olaf over winter break. We’ve hardly talked since. Don’t you guys see? A
wants
us to suspect Noel. A wants to ruin what Noel and I have. Then we’ll break up, it’s
not
going to be Noel, and A’s going to win again.”

“If that happens, you can blame us for everything,” Spencer said. “We’ll do everything in our power to get Noel back for you, okay? But can you please do a little more digging?”

“None of us want it to be Noel,” Emily added. “We’re not against you.”

Aria stood up from the couch. Her eyes were flinty and cold. “Fine,” she said gruffly. “I’ll see what I can do. But I’m not going to find anything, believe me.”

She whipped around, turned the handle of the panic room, and left. Emily heard her footsteps on the basement stairs and felt a twinge of regret. The last thing she wanted to do was pull their friendship apart. What if Aria was right—what if suspecting Noel, wrecking everything, was just part of A’s master plan?

Then Spencer touched her arm. “Try to get something out of Iris soon, okay?”

Emily nodded. “I will.”

Then she headed out of the house, across the driveway, and climbed into her car. Thankfully, Iris was still sitting in the passenger seat, flipping through
Us.
Emily slid the key in the ignition and started the engine.

“How’s your sick friend?” Iris asked without looking up from the magazine.

“What?” Emily snapped her head up. Then she remembered the lie she told. “
Oh.
Uh, feeling much better!”

Iris slapped the magazine closed and gave Emily a knowing look. “God, Emily. If you’re going to lie, at least do a better job.”

“I’m not lying,” Emily said quickly.

Iris waited a beat. When Emily didn’t say anything more, she tossed Emily her cell phone, which was sitting in the center console. “This beeped while you were out,” she said woodenly.

Ice ran through Emily’s veins. She peeked at the screen. There was a new message for her on Twitter. Her mouth dropped open as she read the words.
THOUGH I CAN’T BE THERE WITH YOU IN PERSON, I’LL BE THERE IN SPIRIT
, an unfamiliar Twitter handle had written to her.
I’M GOING TO SEND YOU A SECRET MESSAGE, MY LOVE. BE READY AT 10 PM!

“Is that from the girl you’re into?” Iris asked, still staring straight ahead.

Emily knew she should be annoyed that Iris was snooping, but she was so thrilled she let it slide. “I think so!” she whooped. “I can’t wait for prom now!”

Iris’s neck twisted around so she was facing Emily. Her eyebrows furrowed. “Who says you’re going to prom?” She tilted her chin. “If you want answers from me, then we’re sticking to
my
schedule.
My
list. No balls for you, Cinderella.”

Emily blinked hard. “But . . . I thought maybe . . . I mean, this is
important.
I thought you’d understand. As, you know, a friend.” As soon as she said it, she realized she meant it. They sort of
had
become friends, in a weird way.

Iris crossed her arms over her chest, a look of hurt passing across her face. “Friends don’t lie, Emily.”

Emily stared at her. Iris looked genuinely shattered—over such a small lie. Then again, maybe it wasn’t small to her. Emily suddenly wondered how many friends someone like Iris could have made in The Preserve. Probably not many.

She opened her mouth, wishing she could tell Iris the truth, but then reality slammed back. She swallowed the thought and stared out the windshield. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Your list it is.”

19
Aria Opens Up

After school that day, Aria climbed the stairs in her house holding a lacquered tray her father had brought back from a trip to China. On it were two plates of fried tofu spring rolls that she’d specially made for her and Noel. She’d garnished each dish with basil, green onions, soy sauce, and even two red roses she’d plucked from her mother’s vase in the kitchen. Ella’s boyfriend, an artist named Francis who was on a month-long trip to Berlin, had sent them to her, but he sent her roses all the time, so Aria figured Ella wouldn’t miss a couple.

She kicked open the door to find Noel splayed on her bed, reading
ESPN
magazine. “Dinner is served,” she chirped in a faux French accent. “I think I even got the wraps right.” They’d learned to make them in a cooking class they’d taken together.

Noel smiled at the steaming food. “This smells way better than when we made it in class. Have you been practicing?”

Aria propped up a fringed pillow against the headboard. “Maybe a little . . . for you.” She touched his hand. “We haven’t seen each other much lately. And the last time was so . . . weird.”

It was hard to spit the word out.
Weird
didn’t begin to describe her Ali-terrogation. Since she wasn’t texting or calling, she and Noel had barely spoken in the past few days. Aria hadn’t realized how much they relied on technology to communicate.

But maybe it was good: She needed some space to clear her mind. Though she’d never admit it to her friends, there were a few other things about Noel she couldn’t get out of her head. Like how Noel’s house was filled with pictures of the family at the picnic grounds at Keppler Creek—Mr. Kahn said the fishing there was the best in the state. Noel had gone hiking and fishing there with his brothers a few times last winter, spring, and summer. Some of the trips had been before Real Ali reappeared, some of them after. He’d never invited Aria, and she’d thought nothing of it.
Should
she have?

Noel popped a spring roll into his mouth and swooned. “You can even make tofu taste awesome.”

“That’s one reason to keep me around,” Aria teased, trying to make her voice sound carefree.

“I can think of a few other reasons, too.” Noel set his plate on the end table, grabbed her around the waist, and pulled her on top of him. “The only tastier thing than this dinner is you.”

Aria snuggled into his neck. Noel ran his hands through her hair and kissed her lips. She shut her eyes and tried to relax. A traitor wouldn’t touch her like this. Even the best actor in the world wouldn’t be able to caress her so affectionately.

Beep.

Aria shot up in bed. She stared at her new phone. It wasn’t blinking . . . but Noel’s, which was sitting on Aria’s desk next to his wallet, was. He sat up and studied the screen. “Huh. Is this an international number?” he asked, showing her.

Aria tried to process the long string of numbers in the text box, but before she could, Noel opened the text. Normally, Aria would have looked away, but she caught sight of her name in the message. As she read the words, a sinking feeling crept over her skin.

Noel snorted. “Freaking international spam. They’re getting so good they know our names now.” He hit
DELETE
. “
Look in Aria’s closet
,” he said in a mock-ominous voice, punctuating it with a Dracula laugh. “What’s in there?”

“Nothing,” Aria squeaked. She tried to take a breath but hiccupped nervously instead.

Noel pulled away and searched her face. “Are you sure about that?” he teased.

He was still laughing, which made Aria feel even worse. “Yes!” she said, but her voice was too loud and high-pitched.

A beat passed. Noel swung his legs off the bed and started toward the closet. He had the same look on his face he got when he was about to tickle her. “Is it the bogeyman?”

“Don’t open it. It’s a huge mess in there.”

Noel shrugged. “I bet mine’s messier.”

Aria glanced at Noel’s phone lying faceup on the bed. What the hell was she supposed to do now? She couldn’t tell him about the painting. It was bad enough the case had been reopened and that the police had new evidence and an anonymous tip—which Aria was sure was from A. She couldn’t involve Noel in this. The last thing she wanted was for him to go away for life, too.

“Come here,” Aria said, pulling Noel back to the bed.

She kissed his neck softly, hoping it would distract him. But his muscles were stiff; he pulled away from her and inspected her carefully. “What’s with you?”

“What do you mean?” Aria peppered his cheek with kisses. “I’m fine.”

Noel sat up. “You’re totally not fine. I don’t get you lately. Like,
really
don’t get you. And it’s starting to scare me. I’m starting to think you’re . . . I don’t know. Not telling me something.”

Now it was Aria’s turn to tense up. “Don’t think that,” she squeaked.

Noel sat back. “Whatever it is, I’ll still love you. But don’t lie to me anymore. There’s something. I can tell.”

Aria’s jaw started to tremble. It felt like Noel could
see
her secret, ugly and wrinkled inside her. If she insisted it was nothing, he would just keep asking . . . or maybe check the closet for real. Besides, coming clean would eliminate some of A’s power: A would surely let it slip to Noel about Olaf soon enough if Aria didn’t.