Spencer exchanged a look with Chase. Something told her the guy was lying. “Are you sure?” she called after the man.
“I said I don’t know anything,” he called over his shoulder, practically diving into a parked Audi. In seconds, he started the engine and pulled away from the curb. Black exhaust sputtered out of the tailpipe.
Chase climbed down the steps and stood by Spencer. “Oh-kaaay.”
Spencer leaned against the wrought-iron railing, trying to get a look at the vanishing license plate, but it was already too far away. “It seems like he wanted to get away from us really quickly, didn’t it? Almost like someone got to him, told him not to talk.”
“And if people got to him, they had to have a reason,” Chase went on. “Maybe Barbara Rogers is Alison’s nurse.” He glanced up at the brownstone again. “Let’s wait for someone else to come out and catch the door before it shuts.”
“Good idea.” Spencer sat down on the first step and stared fixedly at the door, willing someone to appear. Cars honked on the main avenue. A couple of pigeons fought over a bread crust on the sidewalk. But no one emerged in the foyer. How long would they have to wait?
“So did you get your blog emergency sorted out the other day?” Spencer asked.
Chase looked at her blankly. “What?”
“You know, the reason you had to cut our first meeting so short,” Spencer prompted. “Was there breaking news about Benjamin Franklin secretly running a meth lab? Independence Hall once being a whorehouse?” In some of their chats, Chase had revealed some of the ridiculous myths that his readers debated.
“Oh.” Chase stared at his hands. “Actually, it wasn’t a blog emergency at all. It was more of a family thing. My brother needed my help.”
A trail of pale green leaves swirled down the street. One of them flew right into Chase’s cheek. Spencer resisted the urge to brush it away. “Is your brother older or younger?” she asked.
“A year younger,” Chase said. “We’re pretty close. We weren’t when we were little, but after the stalker thing . . .” He trailed off, his gaze suddenly distant.
Spencer rolled her jaw. “That must have been intense,” she said quietly. “What happened, exactly, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Chase’s gaze slid to the right. “At first, the guy and I were friends. But then, something changed. He threatened me. Tried to kill me. Messed me up pretty badly.”
“There’s not a mark on you.” Spencer allowed herself a few moments to stare.
Chase ducked his head. There was a long pause before he spoke again. “Yeah, well. Most of the scars you can’t see.”
Spencer knew exactly what he meant. And she hated that she knew. She watched the pedestrians on the street, lost for a moment in memories of Ali. “Do you know what happened to him?” she asked after a while. “Did he go to jail?”
Chase looked pained. “He was under eighteen, so no. And like I said, his parents were loaded. They kept this out of the press, paid off the cops. He left school, but that’s all I know.”
Spencer shook her head. “That is so unfair. So he’s just walking the streets?”
Chase nodded. “I guess so.”
He turned his head away then and made a pained noise that broke Spencer’s heart. She touched his arm, all at once so sad and heartbroken, both for Chase’s experience and her own. How dare someone torment him? How dare someone torment her?
“I know what it’s like,” she whispered. “I’ve been stalked, too.”
Chase turned around, his brow furrowed. “You have?”
Quickly, before she could change her mind, Spencer removed the Britney wig and took off the sunglasses. “I’m Spencer Hastings,” she said. “One of the girls Ali tried to, uh, kill.”
Chase’s mouth made an O. All sorts of expressions crossed his face in a single second. “I wondered if it was you,” he said after a moment in a voice so tender it made Spencer’s heart break. “But I was afraid to ask. I was afraid to scare you away.”
Spencer pulled the wig back onto her head. “You can’t tell anyone, though, okay? I’m trusting you. If I see this show up on your blog . . .”
“That will never happen!” Chase said, urgently shaking his head. Then he leaned back and blinked at her. “Jesus. Spencer Hastings. Now I feel like an idiot telling you all that stalker stuff. It pales in comparison.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Spencer said firmly. “The same thing happened to both of us. Someone we trusted screwed us over in the worst way possible.” All of a sudden, she felt tears filling her eyes. She’d connected with other people about Ali, confessed what Ali had done to other boys she’d been interested in, but no one had gone through it, too. She’d always laughed at the expression kindred spirits, but now, with Chase, she understood what it meant. If only she could see Chase on occasions other than Ali stakeouts. She had a feeling they could talk all night without ever running out of things to say.
She swallowed hard. “Will you go to prom with me?”