Listen for the Lie (11 page)

Listen for the Lie Podcast with Ben Owens

EPISODE FOUR—“THE AMNESIA DEFENSE”

When the news about Savannah's death first broke, it was widely believed that there was a third person who killed Savannah and injured Lucy. But when police were unable to find evidence of anyone else on the scene, and when Lucy continued to insist that she remembered nothing about that night, the narrative began to change.

Remember Joanna Clarkson? One of Matt and Lucy's neighbors from the Block? She spoke to me again about how suspicion started to shift to Lucy.

Joanna:
          Well, the scratches and bruising on Savvy's arms were concerning, for sure. But I was still skeptical until I heard about them fighting at the wedding. And then right after that, Matt threw Lucy out of the house, and it just doesn't get any more suspicious than that.

Ben:
               He threw her out? Do you know that for sure?

Joanna:
          I know for sure that he asked her to leave.

Ben:
               And this was immediately after she was released from the hospital, right?

Joanna:
          Right. And that is just weird timing. You do not kick your injured spouse out of the house after suffering through a trauma like that unless you think she did it. I'm sorry, I know Matt, and that is the only reason he could have done that. The only reason.

Ben:
               At this point, did most people you knew think that Lucy was the one who murdered Savannah?

Joanna:
          Everyone I knew thought that.

Ben:
               But the police never arrested her for the murder, correct?

Joanna:
          They never did. Something about not having a murder weapon, or a solid case. I don't know. I think they were in over their heads. No offense to the Plumpton PD, but they're used to corralling drunk tourists, not investigating murders.

Ben:
               But didn't it give people pause, that there wasn't enough evidence to arrest Lucy?

Joanna:
          Sure, I thought about that some. But our justice system needs evidence, witnesses. Just because someone doesn't go to jail for something doesn't mean they didn't do it.

Ben:
               What about self-defense? Lucy was badly injured. Were there conversations about how Lucy might have had to defend herself?

Joanna:
          From Savannah? That's just nonsense. That girl was a little sweet thing. But here's all I need to know about the situation—one of those girls is dead, and the other one immediately traipsed off to California and claimed to have acquired a convenient case of amnesia. I'm on the side of the one who ended up dead, all right? I'm on her side.

But what about a motive? Why would Lucy suddenly kill her best friend? Why were Lucy and Savannah fighting at the wedding?

Nina seemed to imply that there might have been something happening between Savannah and Matt. Was it jealousy that could have driven Lucy to murder?

I spoke to Kyle Porter about this theory.

Kyle:
              Lucy told me she was pretty sure Matt was cheating on her too. I've hesitated to say that before, because I thought that maybe she was just justifying our affair to herself. But she told me once that she thought Matt had probably been making his way through the neighborhood.

Ben:
               Like, sleeping with women in their neighborhood?

Kyle:
              Yeah. I really don't know if she was just trying to make herself feel better … maybe that was it. But I heard some stuff about Matt's second marriage ending pretty quickly too, and I started to feel bad about not believing Lucy.

Lucy actually said some stuff about Matt that I've been reevaluating lately. Like, one time Matt texted her while we were together and she got this weird look on her face. I asked what was up and she said, “Just my husband telling me what an idiot I am.” And another time she said something like, “Matt prefers I don't talk when we hang out with friends.” I sort of just brushed those off, thinking she was exaggerating, but I think the guy was kind of a jerk. Savvy actually said something to me once.

Ben:
               About Matt?

Kyle:
              Yeah. She knew about me and Lucy, and she said, “You can probably get her to leave Matt, if you want. That would be best for her.”

Ben:
               Did you? Try to get her to leave Matt?

Kyle:
              No. I really wasn't looking for a relationship, especially not with a twenty-two-year-old or however old she was then. I actually ended things not long after that. Seemed like shit was getting complicated.

Ben:
               How did Lucy take it?

Kyle:
              She didn't seem upset at all. I was almost … [
laughs
] I was almost insulted that she didn't seem to care. She just shrugged and said, “If that's what you want.” Lucy never showed much emotion, though. I think that's why I brushed aside the stuff about Matt. Because she never seemed that upset about it.

Ben:
               Did you ever see her or Savannah again?

Kyle:
              Never Lucy, but I saw Savvy once, about a month later. She was on the street, talking to Matt.

Ben:
               Do you know what they were talking about?

Kyle:
              No, but I remember thinking it looked intimate. He had a hand on her arm, and she was standing close to him. And I was like, “Oh, that makes sense. Savvy told me to convince Lucy to leave Matt because she's sleeping with him.” But that was just speculation.

I swear to god though, man, it looked like something. And Lucy said that Matt was sleeping his way through the neighborhood … She might have known something was up with Matt and Savvy.

Most of the people I talked to were skeptical of the jealousy theory, but none more than Emmett Chapman.

Emmett:
        Jealous? Of what?

Ben:
               Some people have speculated that Savannah and Matt were having an affair.

Emmett:
        Dude, that's ridiculous.

Ben:
               Why?

Emmett:
        I never saw any evidence of that. But even if they were,
why would Lucy
murder
Savvy for that? I don't think Lucy even liked Matt that much.

Ben:
               You don't think Lucy liked her own husband that much?

Emmett:
        Uhh … shit, maybe I shouldn't have said it like that. I just mean that their relationship was getting a little rocky.

Ben:
               You don't think that Lucy might have been angry about a close friend sleeping with Matt?

Emmett:
        I don't know. Maybe? She would have been mad at Matt too though, right? And he's still alive.

Emmett Chapman is one of those “he was right there, dumbass,” guys.

The kind of guy you don't notice until you're too old and fucked up to appreciate him. Until you're murdering people in your head (and maybe in real life, who knows?) and decide that, for his own safety and mental health, he should probably stay far, far away.

That was my rationale for not calling or texting him back after Savvy died.

It was also my rationale for not sleeping with him, back when I noticed that he might be interested. I mean, the rationale back then was technically that I was married and I'd only
just
stopped cheating on Matt with Kyle, but it feels similar. Using my high school best friend as an excuse to leave my husband, probably fucking Emmett all the way up in the process, is a bridge too far, even for me.

I drive downtown, park on the street, and stare at the front of the art store for several minutes. The words
Creativity Is Good for the Soul!
are written in big, cheerful bubble letters across the glass storefront, with little flowers and hearts painted around it.

That's probably Emmett's art. He was always doodling constantly growing up—in his notebooks during class, on the sidewalks with chalk, on his own skin when he was bored. He used to come
hang out with me at the bar where Savvy worked and draw on napkins while I wrote.

He would draw something for each of us, sliding one napkin across the bar to Savvy, and another to me. Sometimes it would be a sketch of me hunched over my laptop, or a cheerful cartoon version of my face, or just whatever random thing was in his mind that day.

“
You should really try to make it as an artist
,” I'd told him one day, after he'd presented me with a napkin drawing of a dragon humping a car.

“
Yeah, real high-quality stuff there
,” he'd said with a snort.

“It is! Whatever happened to moving to New York and trying to work on graphic novels?”

“Well, it turns out you can fail at that from anywhere.”

“Seems like it'd be more fun to fail at it in New York.”

He'd barked out a laugh and bumped his shoulder against mine. “
We should have gone together, after college. Like we used to talk about
.”

I'd looked away then, because I didn't want to think about what my life would look like if I'd gone to New York with Emmett after college instead of marrying Matt. I'd returned my attention to the dragon.

I think I still have those napkins, stacked neatly in a box in the corner of Nathan's apartment.

I stare at the storefront.

I don't even know whether Emmett is working today. I'm going to have to actually get out of the car to check.

Any minute now.

It takes another few deep breaths, but I finally step out of the car and into the sticky air.

I immediately regret my decision.

I'd been so focused on the store that I'd failed to look over my shoulder, a few doors down.

A group of men stand beneath a green and white awning outside a restaurant, their laughter echoing down the street. One of the men is looking in my direction, the smile slowly fading from his face.

Keaton Harper. Savvy's older brother.

He has a beard, and a belly, but I'd recognize that death glare anywhere. One of the men notices Keaton's gaze and lets out a loud “oh shit” when he spots me.

I quickly turn away. Emmett is standing in the window of the store, and he lifts a hand in a tentative wave.

I'm tempted to bolt back into my car, but I've been spotted from all sides.

Emmett points to the door, which I realize now has a
Closed
sign on it. I nod and walk to it. Behind me, I hear angry murmurs.

Emmett smiles as he opens the door. I sometimes catch myself picturing the kid I knew growing up—skinny and awkward, with a frizzy helmet of blond hair.

But he hasn't looked like that since we were teenagers. He's tall and solid now. His blond hair is wavy instead of a frizzy mess, cut and styled in a way meant to convey ease but that probably took a little work. He has a dusting of beard growth on his jaw.

Like I said.
He was right there, dumbass
.

I step inside. The art store is decently sized, but so jam-packed with crap that it feels claustrophobic. Every inch of wall space is covered by a brightly colored poster or intricate, handmade wooden signs. I stare at the giant wall of wooden
Welcome
signs to my left and think that you could probably do some real damage by smashing one into a face.

I blink and return my attention to Emmett. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He looks intrigued, but not exactly happy to see me. No one can blame him.

He clears his throat, and a bigger smile suddenly breaks across his face. “Sorry. I knew you were in town, but I'm still sort of stunned to see you.”

“Sorry to just drop by like this.”

“I'm glad you did.” He smiles again, and I'm more relieved than I want to admit. I try very hard not to care that everyone in this town
thinks I'm a murderous hag, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't relieved to hear Emmett at least sound like he was a tiny bit on my side.

“You're in town for a family thing?” he asks.

“Yeah, just popped in to ruin my grandma's birthday party.”

He cocks his head in this way that makes my chest hurt a little. It's his “Lucy is being ridiculous again but it amuses me” expression.

He gestures at the aisles of paint. “Uh … did you need some art supplies for the party?”

“No. I actually just came to see you.”

He looks startled, and also a bit delighted.

“I'm sorry that I never returned your calls or anything back then. I was just…”

“Traumatized?” he guesses.

I bark out a laugh. “Yes.”

“It's all right. I—”

A
bang
on the window makes me jump. I turn to see Keaton with both hands on the glass, face twisted with anger.

“Emmett, what the fuck?” He hits both hands against the glass again. He's right beneath a cluster of little painted hearts on the window, like they're growing out of his head, which should be funny, but I can't find the humor in any of this right now.

“I'm sorry. I should have just called.” I take a step toward the door, toward Keaton, and wonder whether anyone will help if he jumps me. Emmett might call the cops, at least.

I'm sure the cops would take their sweet time showing up. And they wouldn't be on my side when they got here.

“No.” Emmett reaches for me, like he's going to stop me, but his fingers only lightly touch my arm. “It's okay. You can stay.”

Keaton stomps away, and I let out a slow breath. “I think it's best if I bolt before he comes back.”

“Yeah, okay.” Emmett looks disappointed, but he walks to the window and peers out. “He's going into the restaurant with his buddies.”

I pull open the door and take a step out. Emmett follows me, quickly glancing down the street to where Keaton had been. Still clear.

“Nina's been meaning to call you and invite you over for dinner,” he says. “Why don't we do that soon? I'd love to catch up.”

I turn, confused. “Are you and Nina…”

“Oh! Yes.” He smiles. “We're dating. For a few months now.”

Of course they are.

I force a pleasant expression. “Sure. Dinner would be great.”

If he notices that I'm disappointed, he doesn't let on. “It was great to see you, Lucy.”

I turn away before I embarrass myself further. “You too, Emmett.”