“Okay, thanks.” Emily pressed the receiver closer to her ear. “Maybe I could set up a visit next week, then.”
After arranging to visit Iris next Wednesday, Emily hung up the phone and slumped into a kitchen chair. She felt good that Iris returned like she said she would. Maybe this time, she’d actually take her stay at The Preserve seriously.
Emily conjured an image of The Preserve with its Grecian columns and small terraces, then pictured Noel pulling his SUV up the drive to visit Ali, his secret girlfriend. Had he set appointments with “Courtney” like Emily just had with Iris? She still couldn’t quite wrap her brain around the fact that he and Ali had been working together for all these years. Watching Emily and her friends’ every move, plotting to bring them down.
She shivered, thinking of all the intimate moments Noel had spied on. How carefully had he watched Emily and Jordan on the cruise? Had he seen them on that glass-bottomed boat in Puerto Rico? Had he seen them kiss on the top deck? She’d known that A had been watching, but that A was someone they knew so intimately hurt even more. It had been Noel who’d called the FBI on Jordan. And it was because of Noel that Jordan had to swan-dive off the top deck, risk those treacherous seas, escape the country forever. Sure, maybe Ali had told him to do it, but Noel had actually done it. He hated them that much.
And he loved Ali that much.
Lost in her thoughts, Emily climbed the stairs and padded into her bedroom. She sat down on the bed and stared into the middle of the room, a memory suddenly coming to her. She’d been in the Rosewood Day locker room. The girl she’d thought was Courtney had sidled up next to her and acted devastated that Emily had been with her sister on the night she was killed. Emily had taken pity on Courtney, saying that if she ever needed anything, Emily was there for her.
Courtney’s face had lit up. Maybe we could get together after school tomorrow? she’d asked. If it’s not too weird, that is. With Ali, I mean. And Emily had said yes, of course, that would be fine, and when she’d looked up at Courtney again, the girl had a gleam in her eye, a twist of a smile on her lips. Is she flirting with me? Emily had thought, stunned. Courtney had winked, like she knew exactly what she was doing. And something resembling lust had rumbled in Emily’s chest. Those old feelings had started to stir. That old love.
But even if she was the one Ali wanted, she would have never done for Ali what Noel had. She would have never hurt innocent people, her friends.
She whirled around and kicked the bedpost so hard her toe ached. Maybe it was a bad idea that they hadn’t told Agent Fuji about A—both of them—immediately. Because if Ali and Noel were out there, they needed to find them. Now.
33
Who’s That Girl?
“So you haven’t heard from Noel at all?” Hanna said into her burner cell as she walked through the Bill Beach’s back entrance—all the parking at the front was filled again. The entrance bordered one of the community rooms. The place smelled like stale coffee. A baseball game was on the TV in the lobby, and several visiting family members were gathered around in Phillies jerseys.
“Nope,” Mike said on the other end. “Though Aria asked me about it, too. What happened between them last night?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Hanna said nervously. “Just a stupid fight.”
“Really?” Mike cleared his throat. “Hanna, all those questions you asked me about Noel and that bomb—”
“I can’t talk about it right now,” Hanna interrupted. Mike would find out soon enough, after all. She didn’t want him knowing anything before he had to. It was going to break Mike’s heart that his best friend had tried to kill his sister and his girlfriend.
Hanna still couldn’t believe what they’d come upon in the cemetery last night. She also couldn’t believe Spencer had the guts to hit him with that scepter. And had Noel been hurt? He’d gotten away, but his run had been stumbling and strange.
The most worrying moment of all, though, was the sense Hanna got just after Noel ran off. Even though the cemetery seemed deserted, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone else was there with them. She hadn’t mentioned it to her friends, though—and none of them had said anything to her. It was probably all in her mind.
She pulled open the door to the women’s staff room—which, strangely, was empty. Usually there were a couple of nurses hanging out there, watching soaps. “My shift starts soon, so I’d better go.”
“So how long are you going to work there?” Mike asked.
“Actually, I think today’s going to be my last day.” Hanna grabbed her scrubs from her locker and began unbuttoning her jeans. Her investigation into Graham was done. “I’ll call you later.”
She hit END. Her phone rang again a split second later. It was her dad’s number. When she answered, her father sounded furious.
“Hanna, someone named Agent Fuji showed up at the house this morning with a team and a search warrant for your bedroom,” he said. “I was able to have my lawyers send them away, but they’ll be back. What the hell’s going on? What are you mixed up in?”
Hanna froze. A search warrant? Spencer had been right: Fuji was systematically going to each of them, trying to find that painting. At least she hadn’t picked Aria as her next victim.
“I-I have no idea,” she lied. “What was the agent looking for?”
“She didn’t say.” Mr. Marin’s voice was strained. “Is it drugs? There were rumors you had a suicide pact—was it a gun? I can’t believe a news van hasn’t shown up here yet. The last thing I need is an FBI vehicle at the house and a bunch of agents searching the place and me not knowing what to say.”
Tears filled Hanna’s eyes. She couldn’t have her father getting caught up in this. “Whatever she’s looking for, she won’t find it in my room,” Hanna bleated. “I’m sorry you had to go through that . . . but it was just a big mix-up. I’ll be home soon, okay?”