Crushed

“Tabitha’s family was rich.” Hanna leaned toward the TV screens. “Besides, does Ali have money? Even if she had some sort of trust account, she couldn’t draw from it—I’m sure her accounts are being monitored, if her family hasn’t already taken back all the funds.”

“Maybe someone else is giving her money.” Spencer tossed the marker from hand to hand.

There was a silence. It was so quiet inside the panic room that Hanna could hear the ticking of Spencer’s Cartier watch. “It doesn’t explain why Ali would have bludgeoned her to death, though,” she said. “I mean, someone could have seen her. She took a big risk.”

Aria breathed in. “Someone could have seen Real Ali, period. How was it that no one noticed her in Jamaica? Isn’t that weird?”

“That brings us back to the money thing,” Spencer said, writing money on the sheet of paper. “Now that I think about it, the DiLaurentis family definitely didn’t have cash. When I found out all that stuff about Ali and Courtney being my half sisters, part of it was about how the DiLaurentises were broke—probably from paying those outrageous hospital bills for all those years. So how could Ali have gotten the cash to travel to Jamaica? And if she’s A, how did she come back to Rosewood and stalk us so expertly?”

“And go on the cruise,” Aria added. “All of that takes money.”

“She has to have someone bankrolling her,” Hanna concluded. “It’s the only thing that makes sense—not just for the money aspect, but because of other stuff, too. She can’t be everywhere at once. It’s just not possible.”

“So she has a helper, then,” Spencer said. “Just like we thought.”

Hanna nodded. “Honestly, who’s to say Ali has ever been working alone? Maybe she had someone help her drag Ian’s body out of the woods that night after we found him. Remember how quickly he was gone?”

She shivered, thinking back to that cold, creepy night. They’d come upon Ian’s bloated, blue body and had run back to get Officer Wilden, only to find a matted patch of grass when they’d returned. The mechanics of it had always bothered Hanna. Ali was tough, but she wasn’t strong enough to drag a six-two, one-hundred-eighty-pound guy away from a crime scene in under ten minutes.

Spencer sat down on the couch. “Someone could have helped her carry Ian up the stairs and put him in the closet at the Poconos house, too. That same someone could have been the one to kidnap Melissa.”

“And kill Jenna Cavanaugh,” Hanna said, shifting to the edge of the couch excitedly.

“And set that fire in Spencer’s backyard,” Aria added.

Everyone stared at each other. It seemed so obvious now. Ali wasn’t superhuman. Of course she had help. But who was crazy enough to help her?

“It has to be someone who loves her, obviously,” Aria said faintly.

Spencer wrote love on the paper. “Like a friend or a boyfriend, right?”

“Sure.” Emily sounded a little pained. “But that could be anyone.”

Hanna sat back to think. “Well, Real Ali was in The Preserve for a long time. So maybe it was someone she met while she was there.”

“Like Graham?” Emily asked, looking at Aria.

Aria hunched her shoulders. “Graham seemed more into Tabitha than Ali, and he told me he never visited The Preserve. And I’m not sure he’s A—he’s been in a coma since before the latest notes came in.”

“But maybe Ali wrote the most recent notes,” Spencer suggested, writing down Graham’s name anyway.

“And potentially bugged our houses? I don’t know about that.” Aria tucked her feet under her butt. “And anyway, A is threatening to frame us for hurting Graham. My money is on Graham seeing Ali’s helper. I bet that’s what he was trying to tell me in the boiler room.”

Hanna perked up. “Ali did have some good friends at The Preserve, though. Remember Iris, Ali’s roommate? When I was there, she talked about Ali—well, she called her Courtney—all the time.”

“Ooh, that’s good.” Spencer wrote Iris beneath Graham’s name.

Then Hanna tapped her lips. “Although I’m not sure Iris could be Ali’s henchman. She was at The Preserve when Ian was killed. I don’t know how she could have snuck out to haul Ian’s body to the Poconos, either. We’ll have to figure out a way to see if she was there when we were in Jamaica, too.”

“Still, she could know something.” Spencer turned back to their list. “Who else?”

“We can’t leave off Jason,” Aria volunteered.

Hanna frowned. “Ali’s brother? Do you really think he’d help her?”

“Who knows?” Aria shrugged. “That family is beyond weird.”

Hanna raised an eyebrow as Spencer wrote it down. That was big of Aria to suggest it—she’d had a crush on Jason forever.

“What about Cassie, Ali’s field hockey friend?” Spencer asked. “Remember, before Ali died, how she bragged about Cassie nonstop? How she was going to high school parties. How Cassie was the coolest. How Cassie was going to be her new BFF.”

Emily didn’t look convinced. “I ran into Cassie last Christmas, and she seemed okay. And anyway, that was our Ali’s friend, not Real Ali.”

Spencer smacked her forehead. “Right. God. It’s hard to keep track.”

They wrote down a few more names, including Darren Wilden and Melissa, only because the two of them had been involved in Ali’s case from start to finish. But they didn’t seem like very likely suspects. Spencer scratched her chin. “I still feel like we’re missing something huge. Maybe Ali’s helper is right in front of us and we don’t see it. Is there anyone besides the four of us who has been around this whole time? During Ian’s death, Jenna’s death, the fires, Jamaica, that summer, all of it?”

Hanna cleared her throat. “Well, I can think of two people, but I don’t think either of them would be Ali’s helper.”

“Who?” Spencer’s eyes widened.

“Mike.” Hanna looked guiltily at Aria. “ . . . and Noel.”

Aria burst out laughing. “Never in a million years.”

Spencer’s marker hovered over the paper. “We can’t rule anyone out, though.”

She wrote Noel’s name at the bottom, then capped the marker once more. Aria glowered at her. “Why aren’t you writing Mike’s name?”

Spencer sank into one hip. “Do you seriously think your brother would do that to you?”

Aria pressed her lips together. “Well, maybe not. Besides, Mike’s an idiot.”

Hanna let out a small squeak. “Hey! He’s my boyfriend!”

“Well, Noel’s my boyfriend.” Aria peered at everyone anxiously. “You guys, this is crazy. Just because Noel was everywhere with us doesn’t make him guilty—it’s just a terrible coincidence.”

“We know,” Spencer assured her. “We just have to write down everyone, okay? That’s the point of this meeting. We’ll probably be crossing him off the list in days.” She turned back to the list. “This is a good start, don’t you think? We should investigate some of these people. Graham, Iris—there are some good leads here.”

Emily looked at Hanna. “You should take Graham. You’ve volunteered at the Bill Beach before—maybe you could get your job back.”

Hanna shot up straight. “I don’t want to go there again!”

“Em’s right, Hanna,” Spencer said. “You make the most sense. You want to figure this out, right?”

A foul taste welled up in Hanna’s mouth. She thought of the clinic’s horrible antiseptic smell. The yellow pee in the bedpans. Dealing with Sean, her ex. Then again, it was a better option than going to The Preserve. It would be just her luck that they’d readmit her or something.

“I’ll do it,” Hanna mumbled.

“And I’ll talk to Iris,” Emily volunteered. She looked at Hanna. “Do you think she’s still at The Preserve?”

Hanna closed her eyes, remembering the last time they’d all been to the mental hospital to question Kelsey Pierce, the girl Spencer had framed for drug possession who then almost hurled herself off Floating Man Quarry. “I don’t remember seeing her,” she murmured.

Spencer peered at the video cameras. The lawn was still empty. “I’ll go after Real Ali herself. Maybe there’s a way to find her. Maybe we’re missing something. If we found her, we could end this even faster.”

“Who should I investigate?” Aria asked, winding a piece of hair around her finger.

Spencer shifted awkwardly. “Well, you could look into Noel. Just to get him off the list.”

Aria’s eyes blazed. “A isn’t Noel!”

“I know,” Spencer said. “But you could peek around his room. Make sure he doesn’t have a second cell phone or a secret e-mail account. Not that he ever would, of course.”

Aria looked miserable. “If my relationship ends because of this, it’s your fault.”

They talked through a few more possibilities, solidifying their plans. After another fifteen minutes, they felt like they had worked through as much as they could. Spencer stood and stretched.

Hanna turned to the cameras once more. The picture was in black and white, and something at the very edge of the back lawn flickered into view. She inhaled sharply. Had someone just moved behind a tree?

She shot up, staring at the fuzzy image. It was difficult to tell whether it was a person, an animal, or nothing at all. She looked at her new phone’s screen. No alerts had come in.

Aria, Spencer, and Emily were peeking at their phones, too. It was as if they were waiting for A to write, saying Gotcha! Or, Did you really think you could outsmart me? One minute passed. Then another. Finally, Spencer breathed out. “I think we’re good.”

Hanna shut her eyes. All her life, she’d fought to not be invisible, to not be a nobody. But right now, it was the best feeling in the world.

7

Emily’s New Houseguest

Even though Emily had been to The Preserve at Addison-Stevens only once before, she felt an uneasy sense of familiarity as she drove up the long road. The building’s gray brickwork had definitely shown up in her dreams. She’d doodled the Gothic windows in the margins of her notebook without knowing why.

She parked in the visitors’ lot and tried to slow her breaths. It was the following afternoon; she’d skipped her last period of the day, a free study, to make the drive to The Preserve. But just knowing that Real Ali had spent years here, masterminding ways to kill them, made her stomach seize. What if Ali’s helper had also been imprisoned behind these walls? What if the two of them had huddled in the dreary dayroom together, plotting how they were going to ruin Emily, Hanna, Spencer, and Aria? Emily peered at the figures passing through a glass-walled hallway. If the next person who walks by is a woman, this will go okay, she wagered silently.