Pretty Little Liars 6 Killer - Comments on

units in this place. How could this guy honestly know every single person? “She just moved in,” she
pressed.
“Can you check?”
The concierge sighed, then reached for a spiral-bound black book. “This is a list of the tenants in the
building,”
he explained. “What did you say her last name was?”
“Caldwell. Or Frick.”
The concierge flipped to the C’s, then to the F’s. “Nope. There’s no one under either of those names.
Look
for yourself.”
He pushed the book across the desk. Spencer leaned over, looking. There was a Caldecott and a Caleb,
but
no Caldwell. There was a Frank and a Friel, but no Frick. Her whole body went hot, then cold. “This can’t
be
right.”
The concierge sniffed and returned the book to its shelf. A black phone on the front desk let out a bleat.
“Excuse
me.” He picked up the receiver and spoke in a low, polite voice.
Spencer spun around, pressing her palm to her forehead. Two women toting Barneys shopping bags
burst
through the revolving doors, laughing loudly. A man walking a shaggy Bernese mountain dog came in
and
joined them at the elevator bank. Spencer was dying to slip in with them, ride the elevator up to the top
floor and…and what? Break into Olivia’s penthouse to prove she really lived here?
Andrew’s voice swirled in her head. Don’t you think you’re moving a little fast? I don’t want you to get
hurt.
No. The tenant book hadn’t been recently updated—Olivia and Morgan had just moved in. And Olivia’s
phone wasn’t ringing because she was out of the country. And Michael Hutchins’s number was out of
order