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"Something doesn't feel right," Emily whispered suddenly, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Where's Violet?"
"I told you this was a bad idea," Hanna whispered.
"Guys." Aria's voice was as thin as a pinched wire. She was standing next to a table in the living room, an envelope in her hand. "Look at this."
Hanna squinted at the words. At the top left corner was a logo for Pennsylvania Electric Power. In the center was the address, 56 Mockingbird Lane. Then her gaze fell on the recipient's name.
"Oh my G.o.d," Hanna whispered. Gayle Riggs.
Aria set the envelope down, her eyes wide. "Guys, this is Gayle's house. I told you."
Emily blinked rapidly. "What does this mean?"
"It means we should get the h.e.l.l out of here," Hanna snapped. "Gayle doesn't have your baby. She just used that to get us here because she wants to hurt us."
She walked back toward the door, taking in every shadow, every dark crevice. A sculpture of a willow tree looked dangerous and alive. The coat rack reminded her of a hunched, crazy old man. A series of photographs were lined up across the mantle like crooked teeth in a ravenous mouth. In the dim light, she could make out a wedding photo of Gayle and her husband. Next to it was a snapshot of the two of them on vacation, and then a family portrait of Gayle and her husband and a smiling blond girl. Maybe this was the daughter Gayle had spoken about to Emily, the one she said she'd lost. Hanna squinted, trying to see what she looked like, but the picture was too small, the features too difficult to make out.
Until she looked at the photo next to it, an 8 x 10 in a wood frame. It was a school headshot of a pretty blond teenager. As soon as Hanna saw her cunning blue eyes and devious smile, the taste of metal filled her mouth. She'd recognize that smirk anywhere.
Hanna stopped short. "Oh my G.o.d." She pointed a shaky finger at the picture. Emily walked over and followed her gaze, and then sank down, her knees going weak.
"Is that . . . ?" Emily whispered.
Aria just let out a terrified gasp.
Hanna picked up the photo from the shelf. This explained everything-how Gayle knew everything and why Gayle didn't just want them to suffer . . . but to die.
"Tabitha's her daughter?" Emily's voice shook uncontrollably.
"How did you not know that?" Hanna demanded. "Didn't you ever meet the husband? Didn't you ask for the daughter's name? Didn't you find out what happened to her?"
Emily shook her head dazedly. "I never met the husband-and it wouldn't have mattered anyway, since we didn't know what he looked like until Tabitha's body was found. Plus Gayle goes by Riggs, not Clark. She never told me any details of what happened to her daughter, either, just said she disappeared. And none of this ever came up on a Google search!"
Hanna ran her hands down the length of her face. "Why didn't she turn us in?" She could barely get the words out she was breathing so hard.
Emily bit her lip. "Maybe she doesn't know for sure. Maybe this is her way of drawing us out and making us confess. She's trying to drive us crazy, make us tell the truth."
"So do you still think Ali's A, Em?" Aria snapped.
Emily looked terrified. "I guess not."
They all turned and peered at the photograph again. For a split second, it looked like Tabitha was winking at them. Gotcha! It was the same expression Ali used to have when she'd pressured the girls into doing something they didn't want to do.
And then, clear as day, came a keening, desperate wail. The girls whipped around. Hanna grabbed Aria's hand, and Aria grabbed Emily's. The wail persisted, growing louder and more urgent.
"A baby," Hanna whispered.
"Violet!" Emily screamed.
She shot down the hall, running blindly toward the sound. Aria ran after her, and Hanna brought up the rear, her heart pounding. They zipped past an office, a powder room, and an enormous, immaculately clean marble kitchen that smelled like fresh lemons. The sound seemed to be coming from just beyond a set of French doors on the other side of the island. Emily twisted the lock and flung one of the doors open.
They walked onto a ma.s.sive brick patio. The fog had grown even denser since they'd been inside. The mewling cries echoed through the air, but there were no signs of a baby anywhere.
"Violet?" Emily spun around, tears in her eyes.
Suddenly, the noise ceased. The silence was deafening. Hanna looked up at her friends, the fog curling around their faces. She thought the worst: Was the baby dead?
Snap.
Hanna stood up straighter, staring at the garage and the trees through the fog. Even though she couldn't see anything, she sensed a presence. Then she heard it: footsteps.
"Guys." Her voice quivered.
"Maybe it's just Spencer," Emily said bravely. Her phone's screen glowed in the darkness. "She just texted me that she's here."
"Then where's her car?" Aria gestured to the driveway. Besides Aria's Subaru, there was no other vehicle there.
Emily bit her lip. "Maybe she parked it at the bottom of the hill and is walking up."
Hanna marched across the patio toward the driveway. "Someone's out here, and it's not just Spencer. We need to warn her."
She was halfway past the garage when she heard the sound of something metal-car keys, maybe-dropping on the blacktop. She froze and looked around, but all she could see was fog. Footsteps followed, and then tense whispers, a conversation back and forth that she couldn't hear. Finally, there was a boom so loud it made Hanna's teeth hurt.
She swung around and stared at her friends. They stood paralyzed on the patio. Then she turned back and peered at the driveway again. When she saw a blurry figure lying splayed out near one of the flower beds, she screamed. Whoever it was wore a heavy coat with a hood that covered her turned face; the only part of her Hanna could see was a small, delicate hand.
"Is that Spencer?" Aria shrieked.
Hanna groped through the mist toward the figure. Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. Didn't Spencer have a down jacket just like that? Didn't she own pointy leather boots? Suddenly, Hanna stopped. Was the murderer lurking nearby? Were they next?
"Spencer?" Emily came up behind Hanna. "Spencer?" She looked at Hanna in horror. "Do you think she's . . . ?"
Hanna reached out to touch the down-filled hood, but then drew her hand away. She was terrified of what she was going to see. Spencer's face, frozen in a scream? Half of Spencer's brains collected inside the hood?
A car pa.s.sed on the road, its headlights momentarily illuminating their bodies. When the beams bounced off the figure on the ground, Hanna noticed someothing wasn't right. The few strands of hair peeking out from under the hood were paler than Spencer's. The hand looked veiny and older. There was an enormous diamond ring on the fourth finger.
"Who is that?" Aria whispered.
Drawing in a breath, Hanna pulled back the figure's hood. Aria screamed. Emily covered her eyes. And just as the sound of sirens filled the air, Hanna peered down. The two eyes were closed, the lips parted just so. It looked like the person was sleeping, save for the horrible gash just above her right temple. She took in the whole face, and then realized. She sank to her knees, feeling relieved, horrified, and confused at the same time.
The figure on the ground wasn't Spencer. It was Gayle.
31.
THE TRUTH COMES OUT.
Emily stared at Gayle's inert features, her pale skin, and the blood seeping out of her head. A shrill noise rang in her ears, and it took her a few seconds to realize it was the sound of her own screams. She spun around and bent over, dry-heaving on the gra.s.s.
The sound of sirens roared closer, and a car purred up the drive. It was Spencer. She slammed the door and took a few steps toward them, a confused look on her face. Then she saw Gayle's figure on the ground and stopped short. Her face registered a series of emotions-surprise, horror, fear-in a split second. "Oh my G.o.d," she screamed. "Is that . . . ?"
"Gayle," Emily croaked, her voice quavering.
Spencer looked like she was going to be sick. "What happened?"
"We're not sure." Tears ran down Aria's face. "We came out into the courtyard because we heard a baby crying, there was all this fog, we heard footsteps, and then something that sounded like a gunshot, and then . . ."
Police cars blazed up the street, and the girls froze. The vehicles sped up the driveway and screeched to a stop behind Spencer's car. Hanna's mouth dropped open. Spencer instinctively raised her hands in surrender. Emily took a big step away from Gayle's body.
The doors to the police cars opened, and four cops jumped out. Two of them rushed to the fallen body, requesting for backup, while the other two stalked over to Emily and her friends. "What the h.e.l.l is going on here?"
Emily stared up at the cop who'd spoken. He had spiky blond hair, acne scars, and wore a shiny gold Lieutenant's badge that said LOWRY. "We didn't do this!"
"We can explain!" Aria shouted at the same time.
Lowry twisted around and stared into the darkness beyond the police cars. "Where's the person who called this in?"
"I'm here," a voice responded.
Another figure emerged through the fog. Emily presumed it would be a neighbor, but then she noticed the guy's black tuxedo, shiny shoes, and shoulder-length brown hair. Her stomach dropped to her feet. It was Isaac.
"W-what are you doing here?" Emily sputtered.
Isaac stared at her. "I followed you-I was worried about you. Then I heard the gunshot, so I called the cops."
Emily's head whirled. "You had no right to follow me! This is private!"
"If you would have told me what was going on I wouldn't have!" Isaac's voice cracked. "I was afraid you were in trouble!" His gaze fell to Gayle's body, and his mouth wobbled.
Lowry s.n.a.t.c.hed his walkie-talkie from his belt and checked in on the backup and ambulance. Then he looked at the girls. "Do you know who this woman is?"
"Her name is Gayle Riggs," Aria said in a small voice.
Lowry stared, chewing his gum hard. "Were you trying to rob her?"
"Of course not!" Emily cried. "We were just . . . here! Someone else did this!" She looked at Isaac. "Tell him I wouldn't do something like this."
Isaac rolled his jaw. "Well, I didn't actually see what happened-the fog was too thick. But Emily wouldn't do something like this, Officers. She's not a killer."
The guy who was holding Spencer snorted. "People can surprise you."
Lowry chomped on his gum and stared at Emily. "You want to explain what you are doing here?"
Emily glanced guiltily at Isaac. The whirling lights on top of the cop car cast blue and red lights across his face. He was still looking at her with loving concern. "It's personal."
Lowry looked annoyed. "If you can't explain why you're here, we'll have to bring you into the station as suspects."
Her friends gasped beside her. Emily's stomach clenched. Could she seriously allow them to be accused of a crime they didn't commit just to keep her secret?
She cleared her throat. "I'm here because I thought my baby was in danger. I thought she'd been kidnapped. We didn't know Gayle Riggs lived here-we just got a tip that the baby was at this address."
Isaac's eyes bugged. "What baby?"
Lowering her eyes, Emily took the deepest breath ever. "I had a baby girl this summer." She said the words very fast.
Isaac looked stunned. "You did?"
She nodded. "She's yours, Isaac."
For a moment, everything in the world went still. Isaac scrunched up his face. "Uh . . . what?"
"It's true." Emily's voice trembled. "I found out several months after we broke up. I hid in Philly last summer and looked into giving the baby up for adoption. I met Gayle, and she was interested in adopting the baby, but I decided that I wanted to give the baby to someone else. Afterward, Gayle made threats that sounded like she might try to steal the baby from the new family. So when I got the tip that the baby was here, I dragged my friends along to see if it was true." Emily figured this was as close to the truth as she could get. "And we really thought she was here-we heard a baby crying. But then it . . . stopped. We didn't do anything to hurt Gayle, though," she added. "And don't punish my friends. It's because of me that they're here."
When she was finished, her throat was raw and she felt like she'd just swum the English Channel. Isaac's expression morphed from disbelief to confusion to anger all in the matter of a few seconds. "A . . . baby?" he squeaked out, his voice cracking. "A girl?"
"Yes." Emily felt tears in her eyes.
Isaac ran his hand over the top of his head. "Unbelievable." He took a step to the right, then a tottering lurch to the left. All of a sudden, he turned around and staggered toward the other two cops, his posture stiff. Emily stepped forward to go after him, but Hanna touched the small of her back.
"Leave him alone," she whispered.
Seconds later, more police cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck roared up the drive. Cops leapt from the cars and set up a perimeter around the crime scene. A detective in a gray jacket pulled out a camera and took photos of Gayle's lifeless figure. A man in a coat that said CORONER on the back examined the body, making sure she was indeed dead. Police dogs yapped on their leashes, saliva dripping off their jaws. The sirens blared relentlessly, giving Emily a headache.
The cop next to Aria, a big burly guy with a bald head, turned to Emily. "You really expect us to believe your story?" he asked.
"It's the truth." Emily felt defeated. "You can look up my medical records from Jefferson Hospital."
"Why didn't you come to the police when Ms. Riggs allegedly made these threats?"
Emily glanced at her friends. Spencer cleared her throat. "She didn't want her parents to know she was pregnant," she said. "She thought she could handle things herself."
"And what about this tip you received, saying the baby was here? Who wrote that?"
Emily's stomach flipped. The last thing she wanted to do was tell the cops about A. "I guess it was a hoax. Someone messing with us."
"So why is Ms. Riggs dead?" Lowry snapped.
"I have no idea," Emily whispered.
"So you don't know where that came from?" Lowry pointed at something on the ground.
Emily followed his finger. Lying next to Gayle's elbow was a black gun. It blended in with the dark pavement. She jumped away from it as though it were a rattlesnake. "Oh my G.o.d."