The girl rolled her eyes. “What do you think?” Then she stomped away, the laces on her Doc Martens slapping against the checkerboard floor.
Spencer looked around, questioning once again why she was here. The Brewhaus Internet Café was nothing more than a dated coffeehouse across from the Yarmouth train station. Every train that passed rattled the old walls, the scent of stale coffee filled the air, the chairs weren’t level, and there was grating electronica playing over the speakers. But word had it that this place had the most password-protected Internet service anywhere in the tristate area, meaning that the connection was spy-proof.
As Spencer slipped her burner phone back into her purse, her fingers grazed a dinner selection menu for the prom. She’d gotten it at a Student Council meeting that afternoon. The Starry Night, read the dripping Van Gogh signature-like lettering, and a tiny image of the famous painting was at the bottom. Spencer pushed the card deeper into her bag. Just seeing those swirly clouds made her ill. She’d assured Aria that they’d figure this out, but would they? Even with A’s threatening notes, even if they could find evidence that someone had broken into Aria’s house to plant the painting there, would the police believe that a Van Gogh had just shown up in her closet without any involvement on her part?
Then again, Spencer wasn’t sure what else they should do. Placing the artwork on a museum doorstep would only invite controversy—and besides, Aria’s fingerprints were probably all over the canvas. What they needed to do was nail Ali and her helper and force them to confess everything. Ironically, A was their only get-out-of-jail-free card.
An IM popped up on her computer screen. I’m here, said someone with the handle FlyOnTheWall. It was Chase, the investigative blogger Spencer had contacted the other day. They’d planned to chat this afternoon, but Spencer hadn’t been sure whether he would actually sign on.
She checked over her shoulder. Everyone else was intently staring at their own screens, oblivious to her. The IM blinked at her, waiting. I’m here, too, she typed back. I like your site. You’ve done a lot of research.
Thanks, Chase answered, adding a smiley emoticon. So what’s your name?
Spencer hesitated. I don’t want to say yet. I’m trying to think of a nickname.
Are you a guy or a girl?
Girl, Spencer wrote, feeling a little like she was filling out a dating profile.
How about Britney Spears? The reply came right away.
Spencer moved back from the screen and smirked. She’s not your favorite singer, is she?
Hell no, Chase wrote back. It was just the first thing that popped into my head.
Okay, Britney Spears it is, Spencer typed.
So you’re interested in the Alison case? he asked.
Spencer swallowed hard. Sort of. Isn’t everyone?
It’s definitely a weird story, a new message read. There’s something not right about the whole thing. I just don’t know what it is yet.
Are you actively investigating what happened? Spencer asked.
Just as a hobby, Chase wrote. Since the investigation is still open, the cops asked me to keep the details secret so they can catch the real killer. But when I find out everything, I’m putting it up there anyway.
I thought the investigation was closed, Spencer wrote. Ali killed her sister. Didn’t she?
Yes, but there are some loose ends, Chase replied. Like if Ali survived the fire. And the police are still gathering evidence that Ali and Ali alone killed Jenna Cavanaugh and Ian Thomas.
Did you know Alison? Spencer asked.
Nope, but a similar thing happened to me, which is why I’m interested.
What do you mean?
There was a pause, then the screen flashed again. I was stalked. I went to an all-boys’ boarding school, and I had a psycho roommate. He became obsessed with me. He tried to kill me. His parents had a lot of money, though, and they kept the story out of the news.
Spencer sat back. Whoa. I’m so sorry. Were you hurt?
A long beat went by. I don’t like talking about it.
So did that mean his stalker did hurt him . . . or didn’t? Suddenly, Spencer was curious as hell. She clicked on the ABOUT US link of the website again, but it was just that stupid cat video.
Still, Spencer instantly sympathized with him. She certainly knew what it was like to be tormented. Are you still having a hard time with it? she asked. Do people always look at you like you’re . . . contagious, or something?
Totally, Chase wrote back. I’ve definitely lost some friends because of it. But I do a lot of stuff to take my mind off things. Besides being an amateur PI, I’m into snowboarding and guitar. And it might sound nerdy, but I do sandcastle-building competitions in the summer.