“I got a handwritten note, not a text,” Hanna clarified. “And it said to go to the shed. I called the cops just in case the threat was real.”
Gates made a mark on his notepad. “It’s good you did. Whoever sent you that note most likely hurt Mr. Kahn—or, at the very least, saw who did it. Do you have the note on you?”
Hanna looked trapped. “It’s at home.”
Gates paused from writing. “Will you bring it to us as soon as possible?”
“Uh, sure.” Hanna rubbed her nose, looking uncomfortable.
Gates turned to Aria. “Mr. and Mrs. Kahn said you called them several times that same morning, asking if Noel had come home. Did you have reason to be worried about him?”
Aria tried very hard not to make eye contact with her friends. She’d made those calls that morning because she was going to turn Noel in. As Ali’s helper. “He wasn’t picking up his phone,” she said simply. “I’m his girlfriend.”
Gates looked at Spencer and Emily. “You two were at the shed as well, correct?”
“That’s right,” Emily said nervously, peeling her paper coffee cup apart.
“Did you see anyone on the school grounds that looked suspicious? Two people who might have put Noel there?”
Spencer and Emily shook their heads. “All I saw were a bunch of kids playing soccer,” Spencer said.
“Wait.” Emily leaned forward. “Two people?”
Gates nodded. “Our forensic team thoroughly inspected the photographs of Mr. Kahn in the shed. The complex way he was bound and gagged could have only been done by a two-person team.”
Everyone exchanged a glance. Ali and Helper A, obviously. It was proof Noel really hadn’t been Ali’s accomplice.
“And you have no idea who could have done such a thing?” Gates pressed.
There was a long silence. Aria swallowed hard. Hanna’s mouth twitched. Spencer and Emily looked anywhere but at the officer. It was probably obvious that they were lying, but it wasn’t as if they could tell the truth.
Finally, Gates thanked them and walked away, his back stiff and straight. Hanna covered her face with her hands. “Guys, what am I supposed to do?” she moaned. “I can’t give them that note!”
“If you don’t give it, they’ll think we’re hiding something.” Spencer slumped back on the couch. “Maybe we should just tell them what’s going on.”
Aria narrowed her eyes. “And risk someone else getting hurt?”
“What we need to do is figure out who Helper A is.” Spencer glanced cagily at the cop, who was now talking to Noel’s parents. “Then we can come clean about everything.”
Hanna stared into her palms. “I can’t believe Helper A isn’t Noel.”
Aria made a small, tortured sound.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Hanna said quickly. “I mean, I’m glad it’s not Noel. But we were so close to figuring it out. And now we’re back to square one.”
“I know.” Aria plopped back onto the couch.
Hanna gazed across the room at the large water bubbler. “You know, before Graham died, he said the person’s name who bombed the cruise ship started with N. There are other names that start with N besides Noel.”
“True,” Aria said. Hanna had been volunteering at the burn clinic so she could ask Graham Pratt, a boy they’d met on a cruise they’d recently taken, if he’d seen who had set off a bomb that had almost killed him and Aria—they were worried it might have been Helper A. But Graham was in a coma, so Hanna had to do a lot of sitting around and waiting. For the brief time Graham had gained consciousness, he’d told Hanna that the bomber’s name started with N. But then he’d started seizing, and Hanna had run out of the room to grab a nurse. By the time she’d returned, Graham was dead—and Hanna’s new friend Kyla was gone. That was because Kyla wasn’t a burn victim at all . . . but Ali in disguise. The real Kyla’s body had been found behind the burn clinic yesterday; Ali must have killed an innocent stranger, wrapped her own face in bandages, and taken the girl’s place to prevent Hanna from finding out anything from Graham. It would have been easier to just kill Graham as soon as she had the chance, but Ali probably thought there wasn’t any fun in that. This whole thing was just a game for her.
“There’s also the possibility that Graham didn’t really know the bomber’s name,” Spencer said in a morose tone. “What if Helper A gave him a fake name?”
Hanna raised a finger. “Why else would Ali have killed him? He obviously knew something important.”
The door to the waiting room flung open, and a new nurse rushed in. She whispered something to the woman at the desk, and then both of them glanced at Aria, urgent looks on their faces. Aria’s heart thumped against her ribs. Was it about Noel? Was he . . . dead?
The new nurse padded over to Aria. “Miss Montgomery?” Aria could only nod yes. “Noel is awake. He’s asking for you.”
Aria glanced around for Noel’s parents, figuring they would want to see him first, but Mr. and Mrs. Kahn must have stepped out.