Killer. (Book Six)

Nine: Surprise! He's Still Here...

As the sun was sinking beneath the horizon, turning all of Rosewood pitch-black, Spencer watched out her bedroom window as the remaining Rosewood PD squad cars and news vans pulled away from her street. The cops had abruptly called off the search for Ian's body, having found nothing in the woods. And a lot of people had bought into the new theory that the girls had made up seeing Ian's body, thereby allowing him to easily escape Rosewood forever.

Such bullshit. And it didn't seem possible that the cops hadn't found a single piece of evidence. There had to be something out there. A footprint. Tree bark rubbed off from someone's nails.

Her desktop computer at the other corner of the room are an angry buzz. Spencer looked up, eyeing the CD she and Andrew had made of her dad's hard drive yesterday. It was where she'd left it after it finished loading last night, sitting in a paper sleeve on top of her antique Tiffany blotter. She hadn't looked through the flies yet, but there was no good time like the present. She walked to her desk and slid the CD into her computer.

Instantly, the computer made a farting noise, and every single icon on Spencer's desktop turned into a question mark. She tried to click on one, but it wouldn't open. Then the screen went black. She tried to reboot, but the computer wouldn't turn on.

"Shit," she whispered, ejecting the CD. She had backups of everything on her hard drive, like her old papers, tons of pictures and videos, and her journal, which she'd kept since before Ali disappeared, but without a functional computer, she couldn't look through her dad's files for evidence.

A door slammed downstairs. Her father spoke in a muffled voice, then her mother. Spencer looked up, her stomach burbling. She hadn't really spoke to them since they'd all returned from Nana's funeral. She glanced at her computer again, then stood and walked downstairs.

The air smelled like baked Brie her parents always bought at the Fresh Fields deli counter, and the family's two labradoodles, Rufus and Beatrice, were lazing on the big round rug by the breakfast nook. Spencer's sister, Melissa, was in the kitchen, too, scuttling around, piling the design magazines and books she'd scattered around the room into a paper shopping bag. Spencer's mom was rifling through the drawer that held all the phone books, and numbers for the various people who helped around the house—landscapers, driveway sealers, electricians. Mr. Hastings was pacing from the kitchen to the dining room, his cell phone to his ear.

"Uh, my computer has a virus," Spencer said.

Her dad stopped pacing. Melissa looked up. Her mother jumped and whirled around. The corners of her mouth turned down. She turned back to the drawer.

"Mom?" Spencer tried again. "My computer. It's...dead."

Mrs. Hastings didn't turn. "And?"

Spencer ran her fingers along the slightly wilted floral arrangement on the island until she realized where she'd seen the flowers last—on Nana's casket. She pulled her hand away fast. "Well, I need it to do my homework. Can I call Geek Squad?"

Her mother turned and examined Spencer for a few long beats. When Spencer gazed back helplessly, Mrs. Hastings began to laugh.

"What?" Spencer asked, confused. Beatrice raised her head, then put it down again.

"Why should I pay for someone to come fix your computer when I should make you pay for what happened to the garage?" Mrs. Hastings crowed.

Spencer blinked fast. "The...garage?"

Her mother snorted. "Don't tell me you didn't see it."

Spencer looked back and forth from one parents to the other, clueless. Then she ran to the front door and stepped out into the yard in her socks, even though the ground was frosty and soggy. A light had been turned on over the garage. When Spencer saw what was there, she clapped her hand over her mouth.