Killer. (Book Six)

One: The Girl Who Cried Dead Body.

Spencer Hastings shivered in the frigid, late-evening air, ducking to avoid a thorny briar branch. "This way," she called over her shoulder, pushing into the woods behind her family's large, converted farmhouse. "This was where we saw him."

Her old best friends Aria Montgomery, Emily Fields, and Hanna Marin followed quickly behind. All of the girls teetered haphazardly in their high heels, holding the hems of their party dresses—it was Saturday night, and before this, they'd been at a Rosewood Day benefit at Spencer's house. Emily was whimpering, her face streaked with tears. Aria's teeth were chattering, the way they always did when she was afraid. Hanna wasn't making any sounds, but her eyes were huge and she was brandishing a large silver candlestick she'd grabbed from the Hastingses' dining room. Officer Darren Wilden, the town's youngest cop, trailed after them, beaming a flashlight at the wrought-iron fence that separated Spencer's yard from the one that had once belonged to Alison DiLaurentis.

"He's in this clearing, right down this trail," Spencer called. It had started to snow, first wispy flurries, but harder now—fat, wet flakes. To Spencer's left was her family's barn, the very last place Spencer and her friends had seen Ali alive three and half years ago. To her right was the half-dug hole where Ali's body had been found in September. Straight ahead was the clearing where she'd just discovered the dead body of Ian Thomas, her sister's old boyfriend, Ali's secret love, and Ali's killer.

Well, maybe Ali's killer.

Spencer had been so relieved when the cops arrested Ian for Ali's murder. It all made sense: the last day of seventh grade, Ali had given him an ultimatum that either he break up with Melissa, Spencer's sister, or Ali was going to tell the world they were together. Fed up with her games, Ian had met up with Ali that night. His fury and frustration had gotten the best of him...and he'd killed her. Spencer had even seen Ali and Ian in the woods the night she died, a traumatic memory she had suppressed for three and a half long years.

But the day before Ian's trial was set to start, Ian had broken his house arrest and sneaked onto Spencer's patio, begging her not to testify against him. Someone else had killed Ali, he insisted, and he was on the verge of uncovering a disturbing, mind-blowing secret that would prove his innocence.

The problem was, Ian never got to tell Spencer what the big secret was—he vanished before the opening statements of his trial last Friday. As the entire Rosewood Police Department sprang into action, combing the county to find out where he might have gone, everything Spencer thought was true was thrown into question. Had Ian done it...or hadn't he? Had Spencer seen him out there with Ali...or had she seen someone else? Then, just minutes ago at the party, someone by the name Ian_T had sent Spencer a text. Meet me in the woods where she died, it said. I have something to show you.

Spencer had run through the woods, anxious to figure it all out. When she came to a clearing, she looked down and screamed. Ian was lying there, bloated and blue, his eyes glassy and lifeless. Aria, Hanna, and Emily had shown up just then, and moments later they'd all received the same exact text message from the new A. He had to go.

They'd run back into Spencer's to find Wilden, but he hadn't been anywhere in the house. When Spencer went out to the circular driveway to check one more time, Wilden was suddenly there, standing near the valet-parked cars. When he saw her, he gave her a startled look, as if she'd caught him doing something illicit. Before Spencer could demand where Wilden had been, the others ran up in hysterics, breathlessly urging him to follow them into the woods. And now, here they were.

Spencer stopped, recognizing a familiar gnarled tree. There was the old stump. There was the tamped-down grass. The air had an eerie static, oxygenless quality. "This is it," she called over her shoulder. She looked down at the ground, bracing herself for what she was about to see.