Crushed by Sara Shepard

somewhere, ransacked his place, and taken it. And then she brought it back here.”
    Hanna frowned. “I’m not sure if Ali could have done all that. How could she have gotten a passport? And Olaf was over six feet. It’s like the Ian thing—Ali couldn’t have been strong enough to strangle him all by herself.”
    Aria shrugged. “Maybe her helper did it, then. It doesn’t change the fact that Team A killed Olaf so that they could get the painting. And now, one well-placed call from A, and I’ll have a SWAT team on my lawn.”
    “Whoa,” Emily whispered.
    “Maybe you should turn the painting in anonymously,” Hanna suggested, wrapping a piece of hair around and around her finger nervously.
    Spencer’s eyes widened. “Art theft is, like, a major crime. You could be on a surveillance camera. You could get in serious trouble.”
    “And now you guys could get in trouble, too,” Aria cried. “All of you know what I did now. You know where a stolen painting is.” Tears welled in her eyes. “You can turn me in if you want. I understand.”
    Emily touched her arm. “We aren’t going to do that.”
    “We’ll figure this out without any of us getting in trouble, okay?” Spencer added. “I just don’t understand how A knew what you did.”
    “I guess A followed us to Iceland,” Hanna concluded.
    “And followed me to the chateau?” Aria held her palms to the ceiling. “There weren’t any other cars even on the road until the police came. I suppose A could have come on foot, but—”
    “What if A listened in on our call on my end?” Hanna interrupted.
    Aria pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “You think A was staying in our guesthouse?”
    Spencer leaned back in the chair and shut her eyes. Her head was throbbing, and she felt that same old rising panic that had plagued her many times before. How could A be in so many places at once? How could A know everything ?
    Then she opened her eyes. “Aria, maybe A was staying in your room .”
    She must have had a telling tone, because Aria set her mouth in a line. “A is not Noel.”
    “Are you sure ?” Spencer threw up her hands. “Aria, Noel has been everywhere bad stuff has happened to us. Jamaica. The cruise. Now Iceland. Do you really think that’s just a coincidence?”
    “Noel was dead-drunk that night,” Aria protested, her voice going high.
    Spencer paced back and forth around the little room. “Maybe it was just an act. Hanna, do you remember where Noel was when you talked to Aria?”
    Hanna shoved her hands in her pockets, the light from the digital clock on the wall glowing red on her face. “Well, he wasn’t in bed when I woke up. And I didn’t see him in the hall, which is where I was for most of the conversation. He came inside from the back when we got home, though. He said he was smoking a joint, but he didn’t smell like weed at all.”
    Aria’s eyes blazed. “Now you’re against me, too?”
    “Of course I’m not against you!” Hanna said. “But, Aria, it is weird.”
    Spencer shifted forward in the chair. “Remember how strange Noel was when ‘Courtney’ came to Rosewood?” she asked. “He was in a support group with her. He urged you guys to be friends. And you caught them making out at the Valentine’s Day dance. . . .”
    Aria slapped her arms to her sides. “Ali ambushed him! Noel didn’t want to kiss her. She just made it look like he did.”
    “Are you sure?” Spencer asked. “It was that kiss that made you get in the car to go with us to the Poconos. What if Noel was in on it?”
    Aria’s mouth hung open. “I can’t believe you.”
    One of the surveillance monitors went dark. Everyone’s gaze shot to it. There was fuzz, but then the image reappeared. The yard was empty. A few leaves drifted past the camera, and that was all.
    Spencer shook her head. “I’m sorry, Aria. I don’t want it to be Noel, either. I just wish we could rule Noel out for good. The article says Olaf was killed at the