Heartless (24 page)

“I thought you knew,” Spencer said desperately. “I thought you found out about this the night Ali went missing. You seemed so distracted the next day, like you’d done something awful. I thought this was why we couldn’t ever talk about that night.”

Her mother whirled around, her eyes wild, her lipstick smudged. “You honestly think I could have
killed
that girl?” she hissed. “Am I really that much of a monster to you?”

“No!” Spencer squeaked in a tiny voice. “I just—”

“You just
nothing,
” her mother growled, shaking a finger at her so violently, Spencer took a couple of frightened steps back into the flower beds. “You know why I told you we should never talk about that night, Spencer? Because your best friend went
missing.
Because Ali’s disappearance has taken over your life and you need to move on. Not because I
murdered
her!”

“I’m sorry!” Spencer wailed. “It was just that . . . I mean, Melissa couldn’t find you that night and she seemed so—”

“I was out with friends,” her mother boomed. “Late. And the only reason I even remember that is because the police asked me about it nearly fifty times over the next few days!”

There was a cough behind them. Melissa was crumpled next to a small topiary. Spencer grabbed her arm. “Why did you tell Dad over and over that you needed to find Mom?”

Melissa shook her head, baffled. “What?”

“You guys were at the door that night and you kept saying, ‘We need to find Mom. We need to find Mom.’”

Melissa gaped at Spencer helplessly. Then, her eyes doubled in size, the memory coming to her. “You mean when I asked Dad about needing a ride to the airport to catch my flight to Prague?” she said weakly. “I knew I’d be too hungover, but Dad basically told me tough luck. I should’ve thought about that before getting drunk.” She blinked at Spencer in bewilderment.

A family with a young girl got out of a minivan. The husband and wife were holding hands, smiling at each other. The girl stared curiously at Spencer, her thumb in her mouth, before following her parents inside the restaurant.

“But . . .” Spencer felt dizzy. The smell of olive oil floating from the restaurant was suddenly overpoweringly putrid. She searched her sister’s stricken face. “You weren’t fighting with Dad because Mom found out about the affair? You didn’t run back to Ian and say, ‘My dad is having an affair with Mrs. DiLaurentis, and I think my mom went and did something horrible’ ?”

“
Ian?
” Melissa interrupted, her eyebrows shooting up. “I never said that. When did he tell you that?”

Spencer ground to a halt. “Today. He said he’s been IMing you, too.”

“What?” Melissa exploded.

Spencer clutched the sides of her head, feeling disoriented. Ian, Melissa, and her mother’s words mixed together in a hazy swirl, twisting and blending until she had no idea what was the truth.

Was Spencer even IMing Ian at all? She’d been IMing
someone
who claimed he was Ian, but did she really know for sure?

“But what about what you and Mom have been whispering about all week?” Spencer begged, desperate to make sense of the situation, to justify what she’d just done.

“We were planning a special dinner for you.” Her mom looked up, the fight suddenly draining from her voice. Melissa uttered a sigh of disgust and walked away. “Andrew and Kristen Cullen are in there. We were going to take you all to the new production of
The Importance of Being Earnest
at the Walnut Street Theater.”

Goose bumps rose on Spencer’s arms. Her stomach roiled. Her family had been trying to show how much they loved her, and look what she’d done.

Tears began to cascade down Spencer’s cheeks. Of course her mother hadn’t killed Alison. Her mother hadn’t even
known
about the affair. Whoever had IMed her had lied.

A shadow fell over her. When she turned, she saw a gray-haired, stern-looking Rosewood cop. His gun gleamed in his belt.

“Miss Hastings,” the cop said, shaking his head solemnly. “You’re going to have to come with me.”

“W-what?” Spencer shrieked. “Why?”

“It would be better if you did this quietly,” the cop murmured. Wordlessly, he stepped in front of her, nudging her mother out of the way. He pinned Spencer’s hands behind her back, and she felt cold, hard metal on her wrists.

“No!” Spencer cried. It was happening so quickly. She looked over her shoulder. Her mother just stood there, mascara running down her cheeks, her mouth a small O. “Why are you doing this?” she begged the officer.

“Communicating with a criminal on the lam is a serious crime,” he said. “Conspiracy after the fact. And we have the IMs to prove it.”

“IMs?” Spencer repeated, her heart sinking into her gut. The IMs from Ian. Had one of the cops overheard what she just said to her family? Had Melissa run to the police and told on her?

“You don’t understand!” she pleaded. “I wasn’t conspiring with anyone! I don’t even think those IMs are from Ian!”

But the cop wasn’t paying any attention. He opened the door to the backseat, placed a hand on Spencer’s head, and shoved her inside. He slammed his own door shut, then pulled out of the lot, sirens blaring, lights flashing, heading straight to the Rosewood police station.

Chapter 28

Now Who’s the Crazy One?

Hanna skidded down the Preserve hall past the cafeteria, arriving at the entrance to Iris’s secret lair. “Let me in, Iris,” she snarled. She pressed her ear to the door, but there weren’t any sounds from upstairs.

Hanna had been looking for Iris for the past hour, but Iris seemed to have vanished. She wasn’t in the theater watching
Ella Enchanted
with the other patients. She wasn’t in the dining room, the gym, or the spa. Aggravated, Hanna leaned against the locked door. There were a few doodles on the jamb. At the top left corner was the name
Courtney,
Iris’s old roommate. Next to Courtney’s name was a winking smiley face. Hanna was dying to get back inside the attic and see the drawing of Ali—she had no idea how she’d missed it when she was up there.

Hanna was sure Iris knew Ali, she just didn’t know how. From Jason, perhaps? Iris had said she’d stayed at different facilities besides this one; perhaps she’d been at the Radley, where Jason had been treated. She could have met Ali when she came to visit her brother, instantly striking up a friendship that turned to jealousy. The day after Ali went missing, Ali’s mom grilled them with questions they couldn’t answer.
Did Ali ever talk about anyone teasing her?
Certainly no one from Rosewood would tease Ali . . . but someone from a mental hospital might. When Hanna and Ali had been trying on clothes in her closet and Ali had gotten that prank call, maybe it had been Iris moaning on the other end, not Jason. Perhaps Iris was furious that Ali was able to come and go from the hospital, whereas she was condemned inside. Or maybe Iris was simply jealous that Ali was
Ali.

She’s psychotic,
Tara had warned Hanna in the hall a few days ago.
Don’t cross her.
Hanna should have listened.

And maybe . . . just maybe . . . Iris had killed Ali. Iris had told Hanna that she’d been out of the hospital at the exact same time Ali had vanished. Hanna thought of that letter with the slash through it on Ali’s Time Capsule flag—it might have been a
J,
but it also could’ve been an
I.
For
Iris.
Had A sent Hanna to the Preserve so she’d learn about Iris . . . or was Iris A, leading Hanna right into her trap?

She wants to hurt you,
Ali had said.

Hanna jogged down the hall, her Tory Burch flip-flops smacking against the soles of her feet. As she rounded the corner, a nurse stopped her. “No running, honey.”

Hanna paused, out of breath. “Have you seen Iris?”

The nurse shook her head. “No, but she’s probably watching the movie with the other girls. Why don’t you go in too? There’s popcorn!”

Hanna wanted to smack the cheerful grin off her face. “We need to find Iris. It’s serious.”

The nurse’s smile wilted a little. There was a flicker of fear behind her eyes, as if Hanna was a homicidal maniac. Then Hanna spied a red phone on the wall.

“Can I use that?” Hanna begged. She could call the Rosewood PD and tell them everything.

“Sorry, sweetie, but that phone is switched off until four
P.M
. on Sunday. You know the rules.” The nurse gently took Hanna’s elbow and began guiding her back toward the patient rooms. “Why don’t you get some rest? Betsy can bring you an aromatherapy eye mask.”

Hanna wrenched away. “I. Need. To. Find. Iris. She’s a
killer.
She wants to hurt me, too!”

“Honey . . .” The nurse’s gaze flickered to the red emergency button on the wall. Staff could press it to summon help with a patient disturbance.

“Hanna?”

Hanna spun around. Iris stood about ten paces away, leaning casually against the water bubbler. Her blond hair gleamed, her teeth so white they almost looked blue.

“Who
are
you?” Hanna whispered, walking toward her.

Iris pursed her ultra-red lips. “What do you mean? I’m Iris. And I’m fabulous.”

A bolt of electricity slashed through Hanna’s chest as Iris parroted Ali’s old mantra. “Who
are
you?” she repeated, louder.

The nurse swept forward and stepped between them. “Hanna, honey, you seem really excited. Let’s just calm down.”

But Hanna didn’t listen. She stared into Iris’s wide, glowing eyes. “How do you know Alison?” she cried. “Were you in the hospital with her brother? Did you
kill
her? Are you A?”

“Alison?” Iris chirped. “That friend of yours who was murdered? The one you told me you wanted dead? The one you thought got what she deserved?”

Hanna backed up, keenly aware that the nurse was still standing right behind her. A few stunned seconds crept by. “I was just . . . talking. It’s not
true.
And I told you that in confidence. When I thought we were
friends.
”

Iris threw her head back in cruel laughter. “Friends!” she hooted, as if it was the punch line to a joke.

Her laughter made Hanna’s hands quiver. This was all painfully familiar. Ali laughed just like this when she teased Hanna about overeating. Mona laughed like this when Hanna’s too-small Sweet Seventeen court dress ripped and split its seams on the dance floor. Hanna was everyone’s punch line. The girl everyone loved to ruin.

“
Tell me how you knew Alison,
” Hanna growled.

“Who?” Iris teased.

“Tell me how you knew her!”

Iris giggled. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

Something inside Hanna stirred, struggled, and then broke free. Just as Hanna lunged for Iris, a loud
boom
sounded behind them. A bunch of nurses and guards burst through a side door, and two strong arms grabbed Hanna from behind. “Get her out of here,” yelled a voice. Someone dragged Hanna into the hallway and pressed her up against the far wall. Searing pain shot through her shoulder.

Hanna kicked her bare legs, fighting to get free. “Let go of me! What’s going on?”

A security guard swam into view. “That’s enough,” he snarled. There was a click, and then Hanna felt hard metal handcuffs close around her wrists.

“I’m not the one you want!” Hanna screamed frantically. “It’s Iris! She’s a killer!”

“Hanna,” the nurse scolded sharply.

“Why isn’t anyone listening to me?”

The guards began to push her down the hall. Every other patient in the ward was standing outside the theater room, gaping at the commotion. Tara looked thrilled. Alexis had her knuckles in her mouth. Ruby looked Hanna up and down, giggling.

Hanna twisted around and stared at Iris. “How do you know Alison?” But Iris just gave a mysterious smile.

The guards marched Hanna through a door and down an unfamiliar hallway. The vinyl floors were dingy, and the overhead fluorescent lights snapped and buzzed. There was a strange smell in the air, too, kind of like something in the walls was decaying.

A tall figure in a police uniform came into view at the end of the hall. He calmly watched as the guards dragged Hanna to him. As they got closer, Hanna realized it was the Rosewood chief of police. Her heart lifted.
Finally,
someone who would listen to her!

“Hello, Miss Marin,” the chief said.

Hanna breathed a sigh of relief. “I was just going to call you,” she blurted. “Thank God you came. Ali’s killer is
here.
I can lead you right to her.”

The chief chuckled reproachfully, looking almost amused. “Lead me right to her? That’s a good one, Ms. Marin.” He leaned down until his face was parallel with hers. His skin glowed red under the neon
EXIT
sign. “Considering that you’re under arrest.”

Chapter 29

Master of Puppets

When they reached the Rosewood police station, the cop undid Aria’s cuffs and showed her into a dark interrogation room. “We’ll be back for you later.”

Aria stumbled inside, her hip banging against the sharp edge of a wooden table. Slowly, her eyes adjusted. The room was small and windowless and reeked of sweat. Four chairs surrounded the table. Aria dropped into one of them and started to cry silently.

The door squeaked, and someone else staggered into the room. It was a girl with long, auburn hair and thin legs. She wore a pair of black yoga pants, a long-sleeved striped T-shirt, and gold flats. Aria shot to her feet.

“
Hanna?
” she cried.

Hanna slowly raised her head. “Oh,” she said in a numb, subdued voice. “Hi.” Her eyes were glazed over. There was a small cut near her mouth. Her eyes darted to and fro.

“What are you
doing
here?” Aria gasped.

Hanna’s lips parted slowly. A sarcastic smile flickered across her face. “Same reason you are. Apparently we were part of some conspiracy to kill Ali. We helped Ian escape and obstructed justice.”