“I’m having a hard time believing it, too,” Hanna whispered.
“That was why I saw her at Babies “R” Us,” Aria murmured. “I thought it was to get ready for your baby, Em, but she must have been shopping for her own.”
“But she threatened me,” Hanna said in a small voice.
Spencer tapped her lips thoughtfully. “What exactly did she say?”
“That she wanted what she was owed. Meaning the baby.”
“What if Gayle wasn’t talking about the baby? What if she was talking about the money?” Spencer gestured in the direction of the police station. “Mr. Clark just said he was really hard on Gayle for losing some money over the summer. What if it was the money that she gave to Emily for the baby?”
“I gave that money back,” Hanna protested.
“You put it in Gayle’s mailbox. Someone could have easily stolen it,” Spencer pointed out. “What if Gayle thought Emily scammed her? What if she’s been pissed all this time because she thought you took her money and ran?” She blinked hard, the puzzle pieces suddenly snapping together in a different way. “It could make sense. What if A stole the cash from Gayle’s mailbox to make her angry, which would make her look like she was out to get us? What if A took advantage of the situation and cast suspicion on someone innocent, just like what happened with Kelsey?”
“But . . .” Aria bit her fingernail. “Gayle’s Tabitha’s mom.”
“Stepmom,” Spencer corrected. “It sounded like there wasn’t any love lost between them, either.”
“A could have lured us to Gayle’s house, trying to trap us, just like you said, Spence,” Emily said. “Maybe A hadn’t expected Gayle to be there tonight—she was supposed to be at the gala. But then she was. Maybe she took A by surprise. So A killed her.”
Spencer nodded, thinking the same thing. Had Gayle inadvertently saved their lives? If she hadn’t been at the house, would A have killed them instead?
Aria and Hanna shifted, but didn’t say anything. A long silence followed. A lone Honda Civic rolled through a stop light without waiting for the light to turn green. A neon sign blinked across the avenue.
“Do you think it’s true?” Hanna’s skin was pale. “Do you think we were wrong again?”
Spencer shivered, staring into the distance. “Maybe,” she whispered.
And someone else was dead because of it.
33
ARIA’S CONFIDANTE
The next morning, Aria sat cross-legged on the living room floor at her dad’s house, trying to meditate. Let go of all of your stress, a soothing voice said through her headphones. Breathe in and out and picture it all slowly floating away . . .
It was easier said than done, though, because the image of Gayle’s ashen, bloodless face kept leaping into Aria’s mind. The news had talked about nothing but Gayle’s murder all morning, and everyone was hysterical that another Rosewood killer might be on the loose. Miraculously, Aria and the others weren’t mentioned in the story. Last night, when Spencer’s dad found out the girls had been taken to the police station for questioning about Gayle’s murder, he’d immediately left his apartment in Philadelphia, driven to Rosewood, and had a long talk with Lieutenant Lowry, who happened to be the son of one of his best friends. Because there was no evidence that the girls had actually done anything, because the girls had been through so much media scrutiny the previous year, and because Mr. Clark wasn’t pressing charges for trespassing, the cops had agreed not to release the girls’ names to the press.
There was a lot of speculation in the press about who Gayle’s killer might be—someone after Gayle’s money, or an enemy of her husband’s, or a partner from a business deal gone sour. No one had guessed that the Pretty Little Liars were involved.
The idea that Gayle wasn’t A and that A had set a trap for them at Gayle’s house terrified Aria—whoever they were dealing with was diabolical and brilliant. And they still didn’t know what had happened to Emily’s baby, if anything. None of them had received a message from A since the one that appeared in Emily’s inbox at the benefit, so maybe the whole thing—including the crying baby sounds—was a bluff. One good thing had happened: Early that morning, Aria received a text from Hanna saying she’d finally tracked down the address of the family who had adopted Violet, using her dad’s voter records. They live in Chestnut Hill, the text said. Em wants to drive by the house, and she wants us to go with her. They arranged to drive there later that night. Hanna had added that she’d asked to borrow Kate’s car—it might be good to take one that people didn’t associate with any of them. Aria understood why without Hanna having to explain: An unrecognizable car meant A was less likely to follow them. If A was on the loose—and had no trouble killing people—they couldn’t run the risk of leading A straight to Violet.