Spencer thought about what Chase had just said about Billy Ford: The Geek Squad employee who’d planted that stuff on his laptop was a guy, too. “She didn’t say who he was?”
“No. But maybe whoever this is hated us as much as Real Ali did. Maybe he was pissed that we put Real Ali in The Preserve and let Courtney go free. It sounds like we’re looking for a guy, right?”
“So it could be Jason,” Spencer said. “Or Wilden. Or . . . hold on.” She darted out of the powder room, up the stairs, and grabbed the rolled-up list they’d made in the panic room that she’d stashed in a padlocked box under her bed. She spread it out across the sink and crossed off the girls’ names. Jason and Wilden were next on the list.
“If it was someone who was pissed that Real Ali was locked up, this guy would have had to have known Real Ali before Courtney made the switch, right?” Emily murmured as she stared at the list. “Jason makes sense, obviously, but I just can’t see him killing for her.”
“That’s how I feel about Wilden,” Spencer murmured. “He hates Ali with a passion—and anyway, Ali-as-A kind of embarrassed him with all that Amish stuff last year.” A had sent Emily on a wild-goose chase to Amish country, where Emily had exposed Wilden’s roots there.
Emily nodded. “That was something he definitely didn’t want people to know about. If he was Ali’s helper, I don’t know why he would have allowed that.”
Spencer put a question mark next to Jason’s name and drew a faint line through Wilden’s. They looked at the list again. Graham. Noel.
Spencer glanced at Emily’s pale face in the mirror. “Have you talked to Aria lately?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“She won’t answer my calls.” Emily swallowed hard. “I think she’s upset that we’re asking her so many questions about Noel.”
“I feel terrible about it,” Spencer said into her chest. “But . . .” She trailed off, her thoughts still unfocused. She’d revisited a lot of memories about Noel over the past few days, and some worrying details had surfaced. Like how on the day after they’d pushed Tabitha off the roof, the girls had gathered together in Spencer’s room to discuss what they should do. As they were panicking, Spencer heard shuffling sounds in the hall. She peered through the peephole and saw Noel standing at the door, staring at something on his phone. She whipped open the door and glared at him. “Can I help you?”
“Oh!” Noel looked surprised. “I was just seeing if Aria was here. I want to take her to breakfast.”
Aria had rushed to Noel’s side, and the conversation had ended. Spencer hadn’t thought much of it—she’d just been glad Noel hadn’t overheard anything. But what if he had overheard? What if he already knew what they were talking about because he’d been there the night before?
“What about your search?” Emily whispered. “Have you figured anything out?”
Spencer straightened up. “Well, if Ali did escape the explosion, there might be a lead on a private nurse she hired to help her recover from her burns. I’m trying to track down where the nurse lives and what she knows.”
“Wow.” Emily sounded amazed. “How’d you figure all that out?”
“Oh, you know.” Spencer nervously folded the hand towel again and again. She could just hear Emily’s response if she told her she was corresponding with a conspiracy blogger: Are you out of your mind? That’s so dangerous!
“Do you think Ali knows you’re looking for her?” Emily whispered.
Spencer picked up a scented candle and put it back down. “I hope not.”
Emily glanced at the Nike watch on her wrist. “I’d better get back to Iris before she decides to drive off without me. At least we’re making progress, though.”
“We just have to keep pushing,” Spencer said.
She walked Emily to the door, her brain swimming. When she turned the lock again, the telltale ping of an IM rang through the hall. She ran back to her mom’s office. The screen was flashing. Chase had written back.
Okay, Britney. Let’s meet. Mütter Museum in an hour?
“Yes!” Spencer whooped, exiting out of IM. She strolled out of the kitchen, a huge smile on her face. Amelia smirked at her. “What are you so happy about?”
“Nothing,” Spencer snapped, sashaying down the hall. But there was a little spring in her step and a zillion butterflies knocking against her stomach. Okay, maybe she was happy to be meeting Chase.
Just a little.