Aria hung up fast. The only understanding she and Xavier had was that if she warned Ella what kind of person Xavier was, Xavier would tell Ella that Aria had liked Xavier for a nanosecond. And that would ruin Aria and Ella’s relationship for good.
“Aria?”
Aria jumped and looked up. Her father, Byron, was standing above her, wearing a ratty Hollis T-shirt and sporting his typical just-rolled-out-of bed hairstyle.
He sat down at the table next to her. Meredith, wearing a sari-style maternity dress and Birkenstocks, waddled in and leaned against the counter. “We wanted to talk to you,” Byron said.
Aria folded her hands in her lap. They both looked so serious.
“First off, we’re going to have a baby shower for Meredith Wednesday night,” Byron said. “It’s going to be a little thing with some of our friends.”
Aria blinked. They had joint friends? That seemed impossible. Meredith was in her twenties, barely out of college. And Byron was…old.
“You can bring a friend if you want,” Meredith added. “And don’t worry about getting me a gift. I totally don’t expect it.”
Aria wondered if Meredith was registered at Sunshine, the eco baby store in Rosewood that sold organic baby booties made out of recycled soda bottles for a hundred dollars.
“And as for where this shower is going to be…” Byron tugged at the cuffs of his white cable-knit sweater. “We’re going to have it at our new house.”
The words took a moment to sink in. Aria opened her mouth, then shut it fast.
“We didn’t want to tell you until we were sure,” Byron rushed on. “But our loan went through today, and we’re closing on it tomorrow. We want to move right away, and we’d love it if you’d join us there.”
“A…house,” Aria repeated. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Here in this student-friendly, shabby-chic, drippy little 650-square-foot apartment in Old Hollis, Byron and Meredith’s relationship seemed sort of…pretend. A house, on the other hand, was grown-up. Real.
“Where is it?” Aria finally asked.
Meredith ran her fingers along the pink spiderweb tattoo on the inside of her wrist. “On Coventry Lane. It’s really beautiful, Aria—I think you’ll love it. There’s a spiral staircase leading to a big loft bedroom in the attic. That can be yours, if you want. The light up there is great for painting.”
Aria stared at a small stain on Byron’s sweater. Coventry Lane had a familiar ring to it, but she wasn’t sure why.
“You can start moving your stuff over anytime after tomorrow,” Byron said, eyeing Aria warily, as if he wasn’t sure how she was going to react.
She turned absently to the TV. The news was showing Ian’s mug shot. Then, Ian’s mother came on the screen, looking pale and sleepless. “We haven’t heard from Ian since Thursday night,” Mrs. Thomas cried. “If anyone knows what has happened to him, please come forward.”
“Wait,” Aria said slowly, a thought congealing in her mind. “Isn’t Coventry Lane in the neighborhood right behind Spencer’s house?”
“That’s right!” Byron brightened. “You’ll be closer to her.”
Aria shook her head. Her dad didn’t get it. “That’s Ian Thomas’s old street.”
Byron and Meredith glanced at each other, their faces paling. “It…is?” Byron asked.
Aria’s heart thumped. This was one of the reasons she loved her dad—he was so hopelessly oblivious to gossip. At the same time, how on earth could he not know this?
Great. Not only would she be right next to the woods where they’d found Ian’s body, but where Ali had died, too. And what if Ian was still alive, stalking those very woods?
She faced her father. “Don’t you think that street’s going to have some seriously bad karma?”
Byron crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry, Aria. But we got an amazing deal on a house, one we couldn’t pass up. It has tons of space, and I’m sure you’ll find it more comfortable than living in…this.” He waved his arms around, pointing specifically to the apartment’s one tiny bathroom, which they had to share.
Aria glared at the bird-faced totem pole in the corner of the kitchen that Meredith had dragged home from a flea market about a month ago. It wasn’t like she could go back to her mom’s. Xavier’s teasing voice rattled through her head. There’s no need to hide. I thought we had an understanding.
“Okay. I’ll move on Tuesday,” Aria mumbled. She gathered her books and cell phone and retreated to her tiny bedroom at the back of Meredith’s studio, feeling exhausted and defeated.
As she dropped her stuff on her bed, something outside the window caught her eye. The studio was at the back of the apartment, facing an alleyway and a dilapidated wooden garage. A filmy shadow moved behind the garage’s murky windows. Then a pair of unblinking eyes peered through the glass, straight at Aria.
Aria shrieked and pressed herself against the back wall, her heart rocketing. But in a flash, the eyes vanished, as if they’d never been there at all.
3 FLY ME TO THE MOON
Sunday evening, Emily Fields curled her legs underneath her in a cozy booth at Penelope’s, a homey diner not far from her house. Her new boyfriend, Isaac, sat across the booth, the two slices of peanut butter–laden bread he’d ordered in front of him. He was demonstrating how to make his world-famous, life-changing peanut butter sandwich.
“The trick,” Isaac said, “is to use honey instead of jelly.” He picked up a bear-shaped bottle from the middle of the table. The bear made a farting noise as Isaac squeezed honey onto one of the slices. “I promise this will take all of your stress away.” He handed her the sandwich. Emily took a big bite, chewed, and smiled.
“Gooh,” she said, her mouth full. Isaac squeezed her hand, and Emily swooned. Isaac had soft, expressive blue eyes, and there was something about his mouth that made him look like he was smiling even when he wasn’t. If Emily didn’t know him, she’d assume he was too good-looking to be going out with someone like her.
Isaac pointed at the television over the diner counter. “Hey, isn’t that your friend’s house?”
Emily turned in time to see Mrs. McClellan, Spencer’s neighbor from down the street, paused in front of the Hastings estate, her white standard poodle on a retractable leash. “I haven’t been able to sleep since Saturday,” she was saying. “The idea that there’s a dead body lying there in the woods behind my house is too much to bear. I just hope they find it fast.”
Emily slid down in her seat, acid rising to her throat. She was happy the police were searching for Ian, but she didn’t want to hear about it right now.
A cop from the Rosewood police force appeared next. “The Rosewood PD has produced all the necessary warrants, and they’ve started their search of the woods today.” Flashbulbs popped in the cop’s face. “We are taking this matter seriously and moving as fast as we can.”
The reporters began bombarding the cop with questions. “Why did the officer on the scene delay the search?” “Is there something the cops are covering up?” “Is it true that Ian broke house arrest earlier in the week and met with one of the girls who found his body?”
Emily bit her pinkie nail, surprised that the press had found out that Ian had staked out Spencer on her back patio. Who told them that? Wilden? One of the other cops? A?
The cop raised his hand, silencing them. “Like I just explained, Officer Wilden did not delay the search. We had to obtain the proper permits to get access to those woods—they’re private property. As for Mr. Thomas breaking house arrest, that’s not something I’m prepared to comment on right now.”