She laid the book down and gazed drearily around the barn apartment, which she’d retreated to as soon as she’d returned from New York. The fuchsia accent pillows splayed across the almond-colored couch looked washed-out and drab. The few bites of Asiago cheese Spencer had found in the fridge and eaten over the sink for dinner tasted like dust. In the shower, the water hadn’t felt hot or cold, just lukewarm. All of Spencer’s senses had been ripped away. The world was murky and joyless.
How could she have been so stupid? Andrew had warned her. All the signs that Olivia was scamming her were there. When she’d visited, Olivia hadn’t let them stop in the apartment, not even for a minute. And Olivia had struggled with that big file folder, conveniently forgetting it when she boarded the helicopter. She’d probably snickered once she was airborne, knowing exactly what Spencer would do. And to think Spencer had looked into Olivia’s eyes and thought they looked alike! She’d hugged Olivia tight before she left, finally feeling like she was connecting with a member of her family! Olivia probably wasn’t even her real name. And Morgan Frick, Olivia’s so-called husband, was definitely a fake. How could she have missed that? Morgan Frick was just the names of two New York museums sloppily shoved together.
The barn creaked and buckled. Spencer flipped on the TV. There were tons of shows in her sister’s TiVo, not yet watched. Earlier this evening, Spencer had heard a woman from the Fermata spa leave a message on Melissa’s machine, saying Melissa had missed her appointment for an oxygen facial today, and did she want to reschedule. Why had her sister left in such a hurry? Had that been Melissa in the woods yesterday, searching for something?
Spencer turned the TV off again, not interested. Her gaze wandered to Melissa’s bookshelves. They were piled with old textbooks from high school, among them the book she’d used for AP econ. Next to those was a leaf green Kate Spade boot box marked High School Notes. Spencer mustered up a small, sarcastic snort. Notes, as in the kind you passed back and forth in class? Prissy Melissa didn’t seem the type.
She pulled out the boot box and opened the lid. A blue spiral-bound notebook that said Calculus was on top. Melissa must have meant notebooks. There were smiley faces on the cover, and Melissa’s name and Ian’s name doodled over and over in flowery cursive. Spencer opened the notebook to the first page. It was filled with math problems, diagrams, and proofs. Boring, Spencer thought.
On the next page, a shock of green ink caught her eye. There were notes in the margin written in two different-colored inks. It looked like a conversation between two people, passed back and forth from desk to desk. Spencer recognized Melissa’s handwriting in black, and someone else’s in green.
Guess who I made out with at the party last weekend? said the first message in Melissa’s telltale scrawl. Below that was a bubbly, green question mark. JD, was Melissa’s answer. Then came a green exclamation point. And then, Naughty, naughty! That boy is so in love with you…
Spencer held the page inches from her face, as if studying it closely would make it clear. JD? Her brain scrambled for a logical answer. Could that stand for Jason DiLaurentis? The day they tried to steal Ali’s flag and Jason had stormed out of his house, he’d glowered at Melissa and Ian in Spencer’s backyard. He’ll get over it, Melissa had murmured to Ian later. Could Jason have been jealous that Melissa was dating Ian? Could he have secretly been in love with her?
She pressed her fingers to her temples. It didn’t seem possible.
There was a forceful knock at the door, and the notebook slipped from Spencer’s lap to the rug. Then, another knock. “Spencer!” she heard someone call.
Emily and Hanna stood on the porch, Emily in a long red gown, Hanna in a short lacy black one.
“Are you okay?” Hanna rushed into the barn and clutched Spencer’s forearms. Emily burst in behind her, carrying a large book with a dingy leather cover.
“Yeah,” Spencer said slowly. “What’s going on?”
Emily set the book on the kitchen island. “We just got a note from A. We worried something happened to you. Have you heard any strange noises outside?”
Spencer blinked, stunned. “No…”
The girls looked at each other, breathing sighs of relief. Spencer’s eyes landed on the leather book Emily was carrying. “What’s that?” she asked.
Emily bit her lip. She glanced at Hanna, and they both launched into the explanation of what they’d figured out earlier that day. They also said that Aria had run back to her house to retrieve Ali’s long-lost flag—it might hold a vital clue—and would meet them here. When they finally went quiet, Spencer gaped at them, stunned.
“Jason and Wilden know something,” Hanna whispered. “Something they’re covering up. We need to reach Ian again. All that stuff he IM’ed you about—that he had to run, that they hated him, that they’d found out that he knew—we need to know what Ian knows.”
Spencer bunched up a throw pillow in her hands, feeling uneasy. “What if it’s dangerous? Ian was driven out of town because he knew too much. That could happen to us too.”
Hanna shook her head. “A’s begging us to do this. A might ruin us if we don’t.”
Spencer shut her eyes, thinking of the big red zero on the balance line of her college savings account. A had already ruined her.
She shrugged and walked over to Melissa’s laptop, not sure what else to do. Slowly, she swirled the mouse around, jolting the screen to life. The computer was still signed on to Melissa’s IM account, and there were the online friends in her buddy window. When Spencer saw the familiar screen name, her heart began to pound.
“I can’t believe it. That’s him,” she said, pointing to USCMidfielderRoxx. This was the first time she’d seen him online in a week.
Hanna eyed Spencer. “Talk to him,” she said.
Spencer clicked on Ian’s icon and started to type. Ian, it’s Spencer. Don’t sign off. I’m here with Hanna and Emily. We believe you. We know you’re innocent. We want to help you figure this out. But you have to tell us about the conflicting evidence you hinted at when you were on my porch last week. What happened the night Ali was killed?
The cursor blinked. Spencer’s hands began to tremble.
And then, the IM screen flashed. They leaned forward. Spencer? the message said. The girls clasped hands. Another message popped up right after. We shouldn’t talk about this. If you know, you could be in danger.
Spencer paled and looked at Emily and Hanna. “See? Maybe he’s right.”
Hanna pushed Spencer aside and typed. We have to know.
The IM window flashed again. Ali and I were planning to meet up that night, Ian wrote. I was nervous to meet her, so I got drunk. I went to wait for her, but she didn’t show. When I looked across the yard, I swear I saw two people with long blond hair in the woods. It looked like one of them was Ali.
Spencer gasped. Ian had told her this when he met her on her porch last week. She and Ali had fought that night, but Ian said it might have been someone else. She shut her eyes, trying to imagine yet another person being out there that night…someone they hadn’t ever suspected. Her stomach started to ache.
Ian’s messages kept coming. It seemed like the two people were arguing, but they were too far away for me to tell. I figured Ali wasn’t going to come over, which maybe was good, because I was pretty wasted. After Ali went missing, I didn’t realize that the person she was fighting with that night could’ve hurt her—that’s why I didn’t say anything at first. She’d talked a lot about running away when we were together, and that’s what I thought she did.