Sara Shepard - Deadly

Hanna backed up. “I didn’t kill him!”

Goddard nodded. “They think Graham might have seen Aria set off the bomb in the bottom of the ship. You had a lot to lose by keeping him alive.”

“I didn’t bomb that ship!” Aria cried.

“You already admitted you were down there.” Goddard looked tormented. “They’re even trying to connect you to Noel Kahn’s attack. Mr. Kahn was apparently working with Fuji on the Tabitha case. You needed him out of the way.”

Aria pressed her hands to the sides of her head. “Noel didn’t send those e-mails to Fuji about the case—someone hacked into his e-mail account. Did Fuji even talk to Noel, or is she just making all of this up?”

Goddard shrugged. “Probably a little bit of both. And look, this is just the evidence they’ve shared with me. Who knows what else they’re holding closer to the vest, stuff they don’t want me to know.”

Hanna let out a breath. “But it still doesn’t make any sense. We didn’t kill Tabitha. Someone else did.”

“How are they so certain we did it?” Aria asked in what she hoped was a calmer voice. “We worried that A would have methods of making us look more culpable than we were. And yes, we did push her—Fuji knows that. But by the time we got down to the beach to save Tabitha, she was gone. A dragged her somewhere.”

Goddard laid his hands on the table. “That’s what I really want to talk to you about, girls. A new piece of evidence came to light.”

There was a long pause. Hanna squinted. “ What else?”

Goddard pulled a laptop from his briefcase. He lifted the lid and moved the mouse around to wake up the screen. A shaky, black-and-white surveillance image appeared. Waves crashed on a pristine, white beach. A large building with balconies at every window stood in the distance. The angle was different, but it was clear where this was: The Cliffs in Jamaica.

Spencer breathed in sharply. “Where did you get this?”

“This is official video footage from the Lychee Nut, the resort next to The Cliffs. The FBI received it late last night.”

Aria stared at the screen. After a moment, something fell from the sky, hitting the sand with an eerily silent thunk . Aria saw a limp head, a hand.

“Is that . . . ?” she asked, her voice quivering.

“Tabitha,” Goddard answered for her. “This is footage from that night.”

Tabitha’s hand twitched. She raised her head. Her jaw moved up and down, and it looked like she was calling out. “Look!” Emily cried. “See, she survived!”

Tabitha’s mouth opened and closed again, like a fish out of water. Then, four figures appeared from stage right. One was tall with dirty-blond hair and wearing a blue beach dress. Another had strong swimmer’s shoulders and had on a T-shirt that said MERCI BEAUCOUP across the front. The third girl wore a sarong and a white halter. And the fourth girl . . . well, Aria would recognize her own dark hair and tie-dyed maxi anywhere.

Only, it couldn’t be. Because as these four girls gathered around Tabitha, they began to kick her hard. Spencer beat her abdomen with her fists. Emily pummeled her legs. And then Aria raised a piece of driftwood and brought it down over Tabitha’s head.

Aria twisted away, too horrified to look. Emily let out a stifled scream. Hanna dry-heaved. Aria peeked through her fingers to look at the video again. It sure as hell looked like all of them.

“A— Ali— created this,” Aria said. “This is her revenge on us because we got the police involved. She knew she had to step it up, and this was the only ammo she had.”

“It’s a pretty convincing video, ladies.” Goddard sounded grim. “Now look, I honestly think the best course of action is a plea bargain. You’ve been psychologically traumatized from various bullies last year. You clearly didn’t know what you were doing. You could get a drastic reduction in sentence if we go that route. Plus all of you were under eighteen at the time, which means you might not be tried as adults.”

Spencer widened her eyes. “Does my father agree with this strategy?”

“I haven’t spoken with him about it yet, but I have a feeling he will.”

Spencer shook her head. “No plea bargain. No sentence, period . We’re innocent.”

“You believe us, don’t you?” Hanna asked, tears in her eyes. “Will you fight for us?”

Goddard hesitated for a long time, spinning and spinning his wedding ring on his finger. “I believe you,” he said in a defeated voice. “But I’m going to tell you right now—it’s going to be tough.” He stood. “I’m sorry. Bail will be posted soon—you can wait here until they come for you. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

And then, just like that, he was gone.

Everyone stared at one another around the conference table after the lawyer left the room. Hanna was trembling so hard, she was making the chair she was sitting on shake. Aria looked like she was going to pass out.

“How can this be happening?” Spencer whispered, looking around helplessly. “I mean, okay, I can buy that Team A routed every note back to our phones. They’re smart. Maybe it’s possible.”

“And we should have taken better precautions about the people in the A notes,” Emily added. “Isaac’s mom has had it out for me from the beginning. Of course Kelsey is going to rat out Spencer.”

Hanna tentatively touched her face. She could feel that her eyes were puffy, her hair was sticking out in a million directions, and she’d sprouted several zits on her chin. When she shifted in the chair, her abdomen pulsed with pain. She hadn’t peed since they’d arrived, too horrified that the police officers could be watching her on a hidden camera.

“But still,” Spencer said. “ How did they make that surveillance video?”

There was a pause.

“Do you think Ali roofied us and made us do it?” Aria’s voice rang out.

“Guys, I remember every second of that day,” Hanna said. “We ran downstairs the moment Tabitha fell. I didn’t wake up in a daze a few hours later. Did you?”

“No,” Spencer’s voice called from far away.

“Maybe Helper A hired four girls who looked like us,” Emily suggested. “And then, I don’t know, dug up a Tabitha look-alike blow-up doll, and just . . .”

“. . . staged the whole thing?” Hanna finished. “How would she have gotten girls to do that?”

“Maybe he told them it was for a movie he was making,” Aria said. “Maybe he paid them tons of money, and that was it.”

Hanna sniffed. “So, what, we should look for an old ad on Craigslist that says Wanted: Four Girls to Reenact a Murder in Jamaica ?” It didn’t sound very realistic, but who knew? Perhaps Team A killed the Hanna, Aria, Spencer, and Emily clones after the video had been made so they’d never talk. It was hard to tell the extent of their madness.

A door slammed somewhere down the hall. The air conditioner kicked back on, and the sharp smell of stale coffee suddenly wafted through the air.

“We should get someone to check out this Lychee Nut hotel,” Emily suggested. “Was this really their video footage? Why would they have had a murder on tape the whole time and not come forward with it?”

“It’s obvious the tape was planted,” Hanna said. “But who do we have on the outside to actually investigate this for us?” On the outside . She wasn’t even in prison yet and she was already using the lingo.

“Excuse me?”

Hanna jumped. Spencer’s father poked his head inside. “Your bail has been posted. You’re all free to go.”

“We are ?” Emily didn’t get up.