Wicked (22 page)

23

THE QUIETEST COURTROOM ON THE MAIN LINE

Aria stepped out of Spencer’s Mercedes, gaping at the media circus in front of the Rosewood courthouse. The steps were crammed with reporters, cameras, and guys in quilted down jackets wielding booms and microphones. There were clusters of people with picket signs, too. Some conspiracy theorists were protesting the trial, saying it was a left-wing witch hunt—they were after Ian because his father was a CEO for a big pharmaceutical company in Philadelphia. Angry people on the other side of the steps demanded that Ian deserved to go to the electric chair for what he’d done. And there were, of course, the Ali Fans—people who came simply to hold up big pictures of Ali’s face and signs that said,
WE MISS YOU
,
ALI
, even though most of them had never met her.

“Whoa,” Aria whispered, her stomach churning.

Halfway across the sidewalk, Aria noticed two people walking slowly from the auxiliary parking lot. Ella’s arm was looped around Xavier’s, and they were both in thick wool coats.

Aria hid under her big, fur-lined hood. Last night, after Xavier had kissed her, she’d run upstairs and locked herself in her room. When she’d finally emerged a few hours later, she found Mike at the kitchen table, eating an enormous bowl of Count Chocula. He scowled at her when she entered the room. “Did you say something shitty to Xavier?” Mike spat. “When I got off the phone, he was hightailing it out of here. Are you
trying
to screw it up for Mom?”

Aria had turned away, too ashamed to say anything. She was pretty sure the kiss had been a mistake, something done on a whim. Even Xavier had seemed surprised and regretful about what he’d just done. But she certainly didn’t want Mike—or anyone else—to know. Unfortunately, someone did know: A. And Aria had crossed A by telling Wilden about her previous note. All night, Aria had anticipated a phone call from Ella, saying she’d received a mysterious message that said Aria had made a pass at Xavier and not the other way around. If Ella ever found out, Aria would probably be excommunicated from the family for the rest of her life.

“Aria!” Ella called, spying Aria under her hood. She started to wave, signaling for Aria to come over. Xavier had a sheepish expression on his face. As soon as Xavier got a second with her alone, Aria was certain he would apologize. But she was too overwhelmed to deal with it today, on top of everything else.

She grabbed Spencer’s arm, turning away from her mother. “Let’s go in,” she said urgently. “Now.”

Spencer shrugged. They faced the throng on the steps. Aria pulled her hood over her head again and Spencer covered her face with her sleeve, but the reporters still descended on them anyway. “Spencer! What do you think will happen at today’s trial?” they screamed. “Aria! What kind of toll has all this taken on you?” Aria and Spencer clutched hands tightly, moving as fast as they could. A Rosewood cop stood at the courthouse door, holding it open for them. They ducked inside, breathing hard.

The hallway smelled like floor wax and aftershave. Ian and his lawyers hadn’t arrived yet, so a lot of people were milling outside the courtroom. Many of them were Rosewood cops and city officials, as well as neighbors and friends. Aria and Spencer waved to Jackson Hughes, the distinguished-looking D.A. When Jackson stepped out of the way, Aria’s minty gum slid down her throat. Ali’s family was standing behind him. There was Mrs. DiLaurentis, Mr. DiLaurentis, and…Jason. Aria had seen him not all that long ago—he’d come to Ali’s memorial and Ian’s arraignment—but each time she saw him she was floored by how gorgeous he still was.

“Hi, girls,” Mrs. DiLaurentis said, walking over. The lines by her eyes were more pronounced than Aria remembered, but she was still svelte and elegant. She assessed Aria and Spencer. “You’ve both gotten so tall,” she said sadly, as if to imply that if Ali were still alive, she would’ve gotten taller too.

“Are you holding up okay?” Spencer asked in her best adult voice.

“Best we can.” Mrs. DiLaurentis smiled bravely.

“Are you staying in the city again?” Aria asked. The family had stayed in Philadelphia for Ian’s arraignment a few months ago.

Mrs. DiLaurentis shook her head. “We’ve rented a house a few towns over for the duration of the trial. We thought it might be too difficult to commute back here every day from the city. We’d rather be somewhere close.”

Aria raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Is there anything we can do for you?” Aria asked. “Like…help around the house? Do you need your driveway shoveled? My brother and I could come over.”

An ambiguous expression flickered over Mrs. DiLaurentis’s face. Her hands fluttered to the freshwater pearl necklace at her throat. “Thanks, dear, but that won’t be necessary.” She gave them a tight, distracted smile and excused herself.

Aria watched Mrs. DiLaurentis walk back across the lobby to her family. She held her head so stiff and straight, as if she had a book balanced on top of it. “She seemed…weird,” Aria murmured.

“I can’t imagine what this is like for her.” Spencer shivered. “This trial is probably hell.”

They pushed through the heavy wooden doors into the courtroom. Hanna and Emily were already sitting in the second row, right behind the big tables for the lawyers. Hanna had taken off her Rosewood Day blazer and slung it over the back of her chair. Emily was picking at a piece of lint on her pleated plaid uniform skirt. Both girls nodded quietly at Aria and Spencer as they slid into seats next to them.

The courtroom filled up fast. Jackson had set up a bunch of folders and files on his table. Ian’s lawyer arrived and took his place across the aisle. Off to the side the jury box was filled with twelve people Aria had never seen before, handpicked by both lawyers. The actual courtroom was closed to the media and most of Rosewood, and only close family and friends were allowed in, along with police and witnesses. When Aria looked around, she saw Emily’s parents, Hanna’s dad and soon-to-be step-mom, and Spencer’s sister, Melissa. On the other side of the courtroom Aria spied her father, Byron. He was slowly helping Meredith into a seat, even though she wasn’t
that
pregnant.

Byron looked around the courtroom, as if he sensed Aria’s gaze. He found her and waved.
Hi,
Aria mouthed. Byron smiled. Meredith noticed her too, widened her eyes, and mouthed,
You okay?
Aria wondered if Byron knew Ella was here—and that she’d brought her new boyfriend.

Emily poked Aria’s side. “You know the night you called me saying you got a note from New A? I got one that night too.”

A shiver ran up Aria’s back. “What did it say?”

Emily ducked her head, fiddling with a loose button on her blouse. “Just…nothing, really. Did Wilden ever get back to you about who they could be from?”

“No.” Aria scanned the courtroom, thinking Wilden might be here. She didn’t see him. She peered around Emily to look at Hanna. “Have you gotten any?”

Hanna’s expression became guarded. “I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

Aria frowned. Did that mean she had or she hadn’t? “What about you, Spencer?”

Spencer looked at them nervously. She didn’t answer. A sour taste welled in Aria’s mouth. Did this mean they’d
all
gotten more notes from this new A?

Emily chewed nervously on her bottom lip. “Well, I guess it won’t matter soon, right? If it’s Ian, it’ll be over as soon as he’s back in jail….”

“Hopefully,” Aria murmured.

The DiLaurentises finally paraded in and sat on the bench right in front of them. Jason settled next to his parents, but he kept fidgeting, first buttoning his jacket, then unbuttoning it, then reaching for his cell phone, checking the screen, turning it off, and turning it on again. Then, suddenly, Jason turned around and stared right at Aria. His blue eyes lingered on her for a good three seconds. He had the same exact eyes as Ali—it was like looking at a ghost.

One corner of Jason’s mouth curled into a smile of recognition. He gave Aria—but seemingly
only
Aria—a little wave, as if he remembered her better than he did the other girls. Aria checked to see whether any of her old friends had noticed, but Hanna was reapplying her lipstick, and Spencer and Emily were whispering about how Mrs. DiLaurentis had told them that the family had moved a few towns away from Rosewood for the trial. When Aria looked back at Jason, his back was to her again.

Twenty more minutes slowly passed. Ian’s side was still empty. “Shouldn’t he be here by now?” Aria whispered to Spencer.

Spencer’s eyebrows knitted together. “Why are you asking me?” she hissed. “Why would I know?”

Aria held up her hands and sat back. “Sorry,” she whispered sharply. “I wasn’t asking you
specifically
.”

Spencer let out a huffing sigh and faced forward. She was clenching her jaw very tightly.

Ian’s lawyer stood up and walked to the back of the courtroom, a worried look on his face. Aria looked at the wooden doors to the lobby, expecting Ian and his police escorts to burst through at any second, ready to commence the trial. But the doors remained closed. She ran her hand over the back of her neck, uneasy. The murmurs in the courtroom grew louder.

Aria stared out the side window in an attempt to calm down. The courthouse was on a snowy hill overlooking the Rosewood Valley. In the summer, the thick foliage blocked the view, but now that the trees were bare, all of Rosewood was splayed out below. The Hollis spire looked so small, Aria could squish it between her thumb and pointer finger. The tiny Victorian houses below were like dollhouse toys, and Aria could even make out the star-shaped neon sign outside of Snooker’s, where she’d first met Ezra. Beyond that were the vast, untouched fields of the Rosewood Country Club golf course. She, Ali, and the others had spent every day of that first summer they were friends around the country club pool, ogling the older lifeguards. The lifeguard they ogled most was Ian.

She wished she could go back to that summer and revise everything that had happened to Ali—go back to before the workers even started digging that hole for the DiLaurentises’ big twenty-person gazebo. The first time Aria had been in Ali’s backyard, she’d stood almost precisely where that hole—and Ali’s body—would end up being, way at the back of the property near the woods. It was that fateful Saturday at the beginning of sixth grade, when they’d all shown up in Ali’s yard to steal the piece of her Time Capsule flag. Aria wished she could go back and change what had happened that day, too.

Judge Baxter emerged from his chamber. He was portly and red-faced, and had a squished-down nose and small, beady eyes. Aria suspected he’d smell like a cigar if she were closer. When Baxter summoned the two lawyers to the bench, Aria sat up straighter. The three of them talked heatedly, pointing every so often at Ian’s empty seat.

“This is crazy,” Hanna murmured, glancing over her shoulder. “Ian’s
really
late.”

The courtroom doors burst open, and the girls jumped. A cop Aria recognized from Ian’s arraignment strode up the aisle, right through the saloon-style doors and straight to the bench. “I just reached his family,” he said in a gruff voice. Sunlight glimmered off his silvery badge, bouncing shards of light all over the room. “They’re looking.”

Aria’s throat went dry.
“Looking?”
She exchanged a look with the others.

“What do they mean by that?” Emily squeaked.

Spencer bit her thumbnail. “Oh my God.”

Through the still-open door, Aria could see a black sedan pulled up to the curb. Ian’s father got out of the backseat. He was wearing funeral black and had a solemn, terrified look on his face. Aria assumed his mother wasn’t there because she was in the hospital.

A police car pulled up behind the sedan, but only two Rosewood police officers got out.

In seconds, Ian’s father walked up the aisle to the bench. “He was in his bedroom last night,” Mr. Thomas murmured quietly to Baxter—but not quietly enough. “I don’t know how this could happen.”

The judge’s face twitched for a moment. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Ian’s father hung his head solemnly. “He’s…gone.”

Aria’s mouth dropped open, her heart ricocheting around in her chest. Emily let out a moan. Hanna clutched her stomach, a gurgling noise escaping from the back of her throat. Spencer stood up halfway. “I think I should…,” she started, but trailed off and sat back down.

Judge Baxter banged his gavel. “I’m calling a recess,” he shouted to the crowd. “Until further notice. We’ll call you back when we’re ready.”

He made a motioning signal with his hands. All at once, about twenty Rosewood cops approached the bench, walkie-talkies blaring, guns poised in their holsters, ready to be pulled out and fired. After a few instructions, the cops turned away from the bench and started marching out of the courtroom to their cars.

He’s gone.
Aria glanced out the window again, into the valley. There was a lot of Rosewood down there. Plenty of places for Ian to hide.

Emily sank onto the bench, raking her hands through her hair. “How could this happen?”

“Wasn’t there a cop watching him at all times?” Hanna echoed. “I mean, how could he have slipped out of the house without them seeing? It’s not possible!”

“Yes, it is.”

They all looked over at Spencer. Her eyes darted back and forth mechanically, and her hands fluttered. She slowly raised her head and gazed at the three of them, her face dripping with guilt. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she whispered. “About…Ian. And you’re not going to like it.”

24

ET TU, KATE?

“On your left!” Hanna screamed.

A woman walking a wiener dog jumped and scuttled out of Hanna’s way. It was Friday evening after dinner, and Hanna was running the Stockbridge Trail, a three-mile loop that wound behind the old stone mansion that was now owned by the Rosewood Y. It probably wasn’t the safest thing, running on a secluded path with Ian Thomas allegedly on the loose. Although if Spencer had just sucked it up and
told
the cops Ian had broken house arrest and visited her the day before, he wouldn’t have escaped.