And just like that, he was steering her away from Emily. In retrospect, perhaps a bit territorially. Like Aria was his possession.
But the next time Emily had caught up with her, she’d been buoyant and lively. What if Aria had been trying to tell her about hooking up with Olaf? Stealing the painting?
“Ooh! These are pretty!”
Emily snapped out of her reverie in time to see Iris showing Mrs. Fields a pair of teal-blue jeans. They were a size 00—and Emily guessed they would still be too big on Iris.
She was about to stand up to go join them, but Spencer grabbed her arm. “Do you really think Noel was on a ski trip the weekend Olaf was killed?”
There was a determined look in Spencer’s eye, the same sort of face she got when she, Ali, Emily, and the others used to put together puzzles on the floor of Ali’s Poconos living room. Sometimes, they made solving the puzzles a race, and Spencer, desperate to beat Ali, shoved pieces together even when they didn’t fit.
“I don’t think we should go on a witch hunt quite yet,” Emily said slowly.
“But Noel makes so much sense, don’t you think?” Spencer whispered.
Emily shut her eyes. She didn’t want Noel to make sense. It would kill Aria. “I don’t know,” she said wearily.
“Emily!” Iris crowed. When Emily looked up, Iris was coming straight for them.
Emily shoved Spencer out of the way and stood. “Hey!” she called, trying to smile.
“What were you doing on the floor?” Iris stared suspiciously at the spot where Emily had just been sitting. Blessedly, Spencer had scampered out of sight. Then Iris pressed an armful of silk blouses at Emily’s chest. “Stuff these in your bag. I already pulled the electronic tags off.”
She glared at Iris. “My mom’s right over there!” Mrs. Fields was holding up a leopard-patterned jacket to her torso and twisting this way and that in the mirror.
Iris scoffed. “So? She won’t see.” She inched closer. “I’ll give you a really good Ali tidbit if you do.”
“Fine,” Emily growled, yanking the shirts out of Iris’s arms. Glancing back and forth, she took a deep breath and shoved the shirts deep into her swim bag that sometimes doubled as a purse. She marched over to her mom and grabbed her elbow. “We’re going now.”
“So soon?” Mrs. Fields looked disappointed. “We just got here! And isn’t this cute?” She showed Emily the leopard jacket. “I wanted to get you something special.”
“That’s sweet, but, um, Iris has an interview at four thirty,” Emily said, steering them toward the exit. “It’s a really big deal—they’re thinking of offering her a scholarship.”
“Really?” Mrs. Fields smiled at Iris. “Where?”
“Villanova,” Emily said quickly before Iris could spout out a made-up college name—or ask what the hell Emily was talking about. “I have to drive her there, in fact. So we’d better get a move on.”
Her heart thudded as she walked past the displays by the doors. As her fingers curled on the handle, she braced herself for the alarms—and her mom’s wrath.
But no sirens sounded as Emily pushed through the second door fast and spilled onto the sidewalk. Her whole body was sweating. Her head throbbed. She couldn’t believe Jordan used to do this on a regular basis—except with boats and cars.
“Okay, see ya, Mom,” Emily said, yanking Iris toward the station wagon.
“This was lovely, girls!” Mrs. Fields looked so pleased Emily almost felt sorry for her. She waved as she headed toward the family minivan. “Let’s do it again!”
Emily’s swim bag felt like a lead weight in her hand. She was certain that any minute someone was going to pounce on her and make her return everything. Only once they were in the car and moving did she breathe out.
Iris kicked her legs. “Whoa, what a rush!”
Emily squeezed her hands on the wheel. “I can’t believe you made me do that in front of my mom.”
Iris rolled her eyes. “Stop being so dramatic.”
“I’ve definitely done my part,” Emily insisted. “Now tell me something about Ali.”
Iris rubbed her palms together. “What do you want to know?”
Emily’s mind scattered in a thousand different directions. She hadn’t been prepared to get to choose her question. “Did Ali have a boyfriend?”
Iris ran her fingers across one of her newly stolen shirts. “Everyone adored Ali. Guys and girls. Everyone wanted a piece of her.”
“Was there someone special? Someone who would do anything for her?”
A knowing smile spread across Iris’s face. “You were the one who was in love with her, weren’t you?”
Emily flinched. “Who told you that?”