Crushed (16 page)

Iris’s shoulders rose and fell. “Some days yes, some days no. My therapist insists that I do the eating thing for attention. My dad left when I was really little. My mom had to work a bunch of jobs to support us, and then she started dating all these guys, each one worse than the last. She had no time for me anymore. Getting skinnier and skinnier got her to sit up and notice. But then I got dehydrated and ended up in the hospital for malnourishment. The doctor had this whole medical plan for me, and my mom tried to be there for a while, but she just couldn’t do it. So off to The Preserve I went.” She sucked in her teeth. “My home away from home.”

“Is she paying for you to be at The Preserve?” Emily asked.

Iris smiled crookedly. “Her new boyfriend is. He’s rolling in cash—lucky me!”

Emily knew Iris wanted her to laugh, but it really wasn’t funny. Thinking of Iris’s mom, she felt a renewed sense of gratitude for her own family. Imagine if, instead of caring for Emily with ice cream and storybooks when she’d had her appendix out in sixth grade, her mother had declared Emily a burden and sent her off to a facility. Even Emily’s banishment to Iowa after she’d been outed by A had been short-lived: Her parents came to their senses quickly and begged for Emily’s forgiveness.

Up ahead on the road was a wooden sign that read
KEPPLER CREEK STATE PARK
. Emily pulled into a space in the parking lot and shut off the engine. A lake shimmered in the distance, but there was no one in the water; it was still too cold. The rental booth was shuttered, and there wasn’t a single paddleboat anywhere. Only a few fishermen in Woolrich plaid jackets sat on the other side of the pond, staring at their fishing poles.

Iris got out of the car and surveyed the scene. “Well, this sucks,” she grumbled. “
Now
what are we going to do?”

Emily wandered over to a shed where the boats probably were kept, but when she tried the lock, it was bolted tight. “Is there something else you want to do instead?”

Iris didn’t answer. When Emily turned around, Iris was standing next to a tall oak tree, its branches still bare. There was a strange, faraway look on her face.

“What is it?” Emily asked, walking over to her.

Iris turned. “I used to come here when I was a lot younger with school friends. When Ali and I were at The Preserve together, we found out that she used to come here, too.”

“She did?” Emily asked, cocking her head. That didn’t make sense—the DiLaurentises had a bunch of kayaks, but they took them to Pecks Pond, which was much closer to Rosewood.

Iris nodded. “She said she loved it here. She said she couldn’t wait to come back when she got out of the hospital.”

Emily shoved the toe of her sneaker into a tuft of dried grass. “Do you think she came here after she was released?”

“Definitely.” Iris leaned against the tree trunk. “She even made plans. We weren’t allowed to watch TV at The Preserve, but we heard things. Even the nurses wanted to know what happened to poor Courtney DiLaurentis’s murdered sister. One had a portable radio, and we gathered near her office when the report came in that Ian Thomas had been arrested. Ali got this excited look on her face, and she kept glancing at her watch.
My parents are coming
, she kept saying.
I just know it. They’re coming today. And then I’m going to Keppler Creek Park.
We had no idea how she knew for sure that she was getting out.”

“I know how she knew,” Emily interjected. “Ali’s parents hid her away at The Preserve because they feared
she
had killed her sister—which, of course, she did. But when Ian was arrested, they thought they’d made a horrible mistake and immediately had her released.”

“That makes sense,” Iris said. “She seemed thrilled that Ian was arrested, too. At the time, I thought it was because she was glad someone had gotten caught, but maybe she was just glad that someone else had been pegged for something
she
did.”

“Wait a minute.” A brisk wind kicked up, blowing hair into Emily’s face. “You didn’t know Ali killed Courtney?”

Iris looked at her crazily. “No way.” She turned back to the tree, chipping away a piece of bark with her nail. “Anyway, her parents
did
show up that day, just like she predicted. As they were signing paperwork to check her out, Ali was packing up her stuff in our room. And she mentioned Keppler Creek again. She was like,
This is awesome. I’m going to Keppler Creek as soon as I’m free. I’m going to see my best friend in the world. I can’t wait to see him.
”

A chill whizzed up Emily’s spine.
Him.
“She was coming to meet a guy. Her boyfriend?”

“I think so.”

“So her boyfriend
wasn’t
a patient. He was on the outside.”

The corners of Iris’s mouth twisted into a smile. “Aren’t you clever? You’re right. It was someone on the outside. He used to visit her all the time. And I bet he carved this.”

She stepped away from the tree and pointed at something in the bark. There, etched into the wood, were the words
I love Ali D
in a heart. At the bottom was the date. It was November of last year, a few days after Ian had been arrested.

Emily’s breath caught, thinking of the time
she’d
carved Ali’s initials into a tree. If only whoever had cut this heart into the bark had added his initials, too, like Emily had. She touched the letters, then looked around for any video cameras on the nearby snack bar and bathroom structures. Unfortunately, there were none. Nothing had recorded Ali and whoever this person was meeting . . . but it
had
happened.
I’m going to see my best friend in the world.
Who? Had this guy transformed into Ali’s helper, the new A?

She grabbed Iris’s hand. “Please tell me his name.”

A torn look crossed Iris’s face. For a moment, she looked like she was going to tell, but then she yanked her arm away and started running toward the beach. “Hey, I know what we can do instead of take a boat out!” she called over her shoulder. “Skinny-dip!”

And at that, she started peeling off her clothes, first her T-shirt, then her shoes and socks, then her jeans, which were Emily’s. Her legs and arms looked so pale. The knobs of her spine stuck out prominently.

“Iris!” Emily protested, running after her toward the water, dodging the pile of clothes she’d left in her wake. “You’ll freeze!”

But Iris had already plunged into the lake. She surfaced and shrieked at the cold, then laughed. “C’mon, Emily!” she called out. “It’s a rush!”

Emily stared at Iris, then turned back and looked at the carving on the tree. It
was
a rush, finding out something new about Ali. And Iris’s admission suddenly made her feel charitable. Daring and invincible, too. She pulled her sweater over her head, kicked off her jeans, and waded into the frigid water after Iris, not caring that the fishermen were staring. There was a flicker in the trees, and Emily stopped, goose bumps rising on her bare stomach.
Ali?
The word froze solid as it left her lips.

But when she looked again, the forest was still. Whoever had been watching had vanished.

16
Meeting of the Minds

On Tuesday night, Spencer sat at the kitchen table with Amelia, their schoolbooks spread in front of them and the classical station on at low volume. Spencer liked doing her homework at the kitchen table. As it turned out, so did Amelia, meaning the kitchen had turned into a turf war.

An IM popped up on Spencer’s laptop. It was Chase.
Hey there, Britney.

Spencer smiled. Chase’s nickname had grown on her. But she hesitated before replying. It was one thing to break the Internet rule on a super-safe connection, but A probably had been bugging her laptop for months.

She jumped up from the table and ran into her mother’s office, a carved-out nook behind the pantry. Mrs. Hastings’s computer was on a vegan recipe website. Spencer exited out of it, logged into her mother’s instant messenger screen name, RufusAndBeatrice—Mrs. Hastings liked to IM Spencer that dinner was ready and things like that. She found Chase’s screen name, friended him, and told him that it was
Britney
, just using her mom’s account instead of her own.

After a moment, another message from Chase appeared.
Two things: One, I’ve reached out to Billy Ford to see if he had any interaction with Alison before he was arrested.

Spencer almost dropped her bottle of coconut water. Billy Ford was the guy who’d been framed for murdering Their Ali—he’d been one of the guys who’d dug the hole where Ali’s body had been found. People thought he was A, too. The cops found pictures of Spencer and the others on the laptop in his truck. But Real Ali had planted them there.

Did he tell you anything interesting?
Spencer asked. If she remembered correctly, Billy told the cops that the only time he’d seen Alison—or, rather,
Courtney—
was when he’d worked on her gazebo when the girls were in seventh grade. He had no idea how Real Ali had gotten those files onto his laptop.

He told me that a few days before all that stuff was found in his truck, someone from Geek Squad came to his door and offered to do a free security scan. Maybe that person helped frame him. Perhaps they were working with Alison.

Spencer’s eyes lit up.
Was it a guy or girl?

He said it was a guy. But he barely remembers him. Couldn’t pick him out of a lineup.

Spencer laid her head on her mom’s desk. Another dead end.

There was another
ping. Two, I just received some interesting photos of Ali and her sister when they were younger. Maybe they’ll spark a connection.

Spencer glanced over her shoulder in case Amelia was watching from the kitchen.
Where did you find them?
she typed.

The text box lit up again.
You wouldn’t believe the sorts of people who come out of the woodwork when you run a conspiracy theory blog. I get all kinds of weird stuff about all sorts of topics. These I got anonymously, but I really think they’re legit. Exciting, right?

Spencer swished a gulp of coconut water in her mouth. Whenever anything was done anonymously, her first thought was that it was A. But why would A send DiLaurentis twin pictures to a conspiracy blog?

It is exciting
, she wrote back—and she meant it. Not only finding new evidence, but also talking to someone who was just as jazzed about it as Spencer was. Not just someone, either, but a smart, interesting, funny, intriguing guy. Not that Spencer had a crush on him or anything.

Okay, maybe she did.

The idea of him was just so
alluring.
All the investigating he’d done on Ali, his tragic story about being stalked, even his choice of words in their chats. Last night, he’d used the phrase
if I had my druthers
, which was so adorably old-fashioned Spencer had squealed with delight. Chase was smart and funny . . .
and
they both wanted to bring Ali down. It sort of felt like they were a superhero duo, connected via Internet. Surely there was a picture of him online, right? But Spencer had spent hours last night searching all sorts of avenues. The work he’d done with the police. The stalking story. There wasn’t a single image of him
anywhere
—of course, it would help if she knew his last name.

She
had
to meet him.

She looked at the screen and took a deep breath.
I really want to see them
, she wrote.
But I don’t want you sending them over the Internet. Do you think we could meet in person?
It might be a risk to reveal who she really was, but she was willing to take the chance.

The cursor blinked . . . and blinked . . . and blinked. No new message appeared. Spencer’s cheeks burned. This felt just like the time in seventh grade when Spencer and Ali were competing over who could kiss the greatest number of older guys. Spencer had walked up to Oliver Nolan, the champion rower at St. Francis Prep, and asked him to kiss her, and he’d flat-out refused. Ali had been watching—she’d laughed her head off.

There was a knock on the front door. Spencer jumped up from her mom’s desk chair, ran through the kitchen and down the hall, and peered through the sidelight window. Emily stood on the porch. Her Volvo wagon chugged at the curb; Iris’s blond head could be seen in the passenger seat.

“What’s going on?” Spencer whispered as she opened the door.

Emily looked right and left. Then she pulled Spencer down the hall and into the powder room. She shut the door and turned on the overhead fan, which rattled noisily, and ran the faucet at full volume.

“What are you doing?” Spencer frowned at Emily’s reflection in the mirror. “What about Iris?”

“She’ll be okay,” Emily assured her. “I want to make sure no one hears. I just found out that Ali
did
have a special boyfriend, someone on the outside. The two of them met as soon as she was let out of The Preserve after Ian was arrested. There’s a carving at Keppler Creek State Park that says
I love Ali D
with last year’s date.”

“Keppler Park?” Spencer leaned against the pedestal sink. “That’s almost in Delaware.”

Emily chewed on her thumb. “I know. Maybe the boyfriend is from there. Ali said he was her best friend in the world. What if this friend is her helper?”

Spencer thought about what Chase had just said about Billy Ford: The Geek Squad employee who’d planted that stuff on his laptop was a guy, too. “She didn’t say who he was?”

“No. But maybe whoever this is hated us as much as Real Ali did. Maybe he was pissed that we put Real Ali in The Preserve and let Courtney go free. It sounds like we’re looking for a guy, right?”

“So it could be Jason,” Spencer said. “Or Wilden. Or . . . hold on.” She darted out of the powder room, up the stairs, and grabbed the rolled-up list they’d made in the panic room that she’d stashed in a padlocked box under her bed. She spread it out across the sink and crossed off the girls’ names. Jason and Wilden were next on the list.