Listen for the Lie (15 page)

“Yeah, sure, let's kill my husband,” I said with a laugh. “How should we do it? Knife him while he's sleeping? Push him into traffic? Wait, I know. Poison in the liquor bottle. Matt sucks down those drinks so fast he'll be dead before he realizes the taste is off.”

I laughed again, but Savvy didn't. She cocked an eyebrow. My smile slowly faded.

“Savvy.” I shifted on the barstool as I realized that I was the only person kidding around. “I can't kill him. I can't kill anyone.”

“Why not? He deserves it.”

I opened my mouth to argue.

“Don't you dare say he doesn't.” She wrapped a warm hand around my arm. “I've seen bruises on you so many times, and I know you're not even telling me the worst of it.”

I wasn't. The worst of it was too much to recount. It wasn't even that it was humiliating, I just couldn't bring myself to put together words to explain how he'd choked me until I blacked out. Or when “things had gotten out of control” (as he always liked to put it) and he'd dragged me by my hair from the kitchen to the living room and then slammed my head repeatedly into the hardwood floors until I saw stars.

“He deserves it,” I confirmed quietly. “But even if I wanted to kill him—”

“We,” Savvy interrupted. “Even if
we
wanted to kill him. I wouldn't make you do it alone.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Damn, Savvy, I knew you were ride or die, but that's next-level.”

She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a grin. “I'm the best friend in the world, you can say it. And as the best friend in the world, I would be delighted to help you off your dickhead husband.”

I stared at her, still convinced she must have been kidding.

She cocked an eyebrow. “What do you say? Are we going to kill a dude or what?”

Listen for the Lie Podcast with Ben Owens

EPISODE FIVE—“A MYSTERY WOMAN”

Today, for the first time, you're going to hear from Lucy's ex-husband, Matt Gardner. Matt has declined to speak with the press since Savannah's death, and only agreed to talk to me now because Lucy asked him to.

He comes to my hotel room in Plumpton first thing in the morning. He looks older than the photos I've seen of him, and tired. I ask him if he agreed to this interview because of Lucy.

Matt:
              Yeah, she mentioned that I should talk to you.

Ben:
               Why?

Matt:
              I don't know, I guess she likes you. Or … she wants to know who killed Savvy.

Ben:
               Let's talk about your relationship with Lucy. You two stayed in touch after divorcing?

Matt:
              No. I hadn't spoken to her at all since she left town five years ago. But she came by the house a few days ago, and then we also had lunch recently.

Ben:
               She reached out to you, then?

Matt:
              Yeah. She just showed up one day.

Ben:
               How would you describe your relationship when you two were married?

Matt:
              Mmmhh … passionate. We were really in love, but we also fought a lot. We probably got married too young. But I was crazy about her. From the moment I met her, I was smitten.

Ben:
               What did you fight about?

Matt:
              Normal marriage stuff. Money, in-laws, work. We probably should have gone to therapy. I realize now that we just weren't very good at communicating with each other. I take some responsibility for that. I wish we'd worked on it instead of giving up.

Ben:
               You wish you'd stayed married?

Matt:
              I guess I don't mean that exactly … it's hard to know what would have happened. But with the benefit of hindsight, I
can see a world where we took a step back and tried to see the good in each other.

Ben:
               After Lucy was released from the hospital, she went to her parents' almost right away instead of home. Several people I've talked to said that you asked her to leave. Is that true?

Matt:
              That's true.

Ben:
               Why?

Matt:
              It was just a lot to handle at the time. Savvy—
our
friend, not just hers—was dead, and the police were already asking questions that … it was a lot.

Ben:
               The police were asking questions that made you suspect your wife had killed her friend?

Matt:
              Well … I don't know. They were asking questions that made me uncomfortable. I shouldn't have sent her away. I feel bad about it now.

Ben:
               Did you go see her while she was at her parents' house?

Matt:
              Uh, once, yeah.

Ben:
               How was Lucy doing then?

Matt:
              I … think she was about the same. Sad. Confused.

Ben:
               What did you do while Lucy was at her parents'?

Matt:
              What do you mean?

Ben:
               Just, in general. It must have been strange, having your wife out of the house, right? What did you do?

Matt:
              The normal stuff. Went to work. I worked more, actually. The local media would sometimes pop up at my house so I stayed there a lot.

Ben:
               Did you stay with any friends?

Matt:
              I think I crashed on a buddy's couch once or twice, yeah.

Ben:
               How about any women? Did you stay at the homes of any women? Or have them over?

Matt:
              I mean … it's been five years. Like I said, I crashed on some couches. Maybe some were women.

Ben:
               I have two people who say they saw you regularly coming in and out of the house of a woman I'm choosing not to name here, for her sake.

Matt:
              Like I said, I stayed with some friends occasionally. Got away from the media.

Ben:
               They say the two of you had been sleeping together since before Savannah died.

Matt:
              I don't know who these anonymous people are, and I don't know why they think they know what I'm doing behind closed doors.

Ben:
               They also said that the woman started spending some nights at your house very soon after Lucy left.

Matt:
              Again, I don't know why these people think they know my business.

Ben:
               So they're wrong? Or they're lying?

Matt:
              Yes, they're wrong. And what does it even matter? How is it even relevant?

Ben:
               Good point. Let's move on. How did you get home from the wedding?

Matt:
              I drove.

Ben:
               Even though you were, by your own account, pretty drunk?

Matt:
              Listen, it wasn't a great decision. But yeah, I did. And I'd sobered up a bit by the time I left.

Ben:
               When was that?

Matt:
              Not long after Lucy and Savvy left.

Ben:
               But you didn't see them?

Matt:
              No, they took the back road. I took the main road, like they told us to.

Ben:
               And you went straight home?

Matt:
              Yeah.

Ben:
               And you were alone the rest of the night? No one came and picked you up, later that evening?

Matt:
              You know what, I actually think I'm going to leave. This was a bad idea.

Ben:
               A neighbor confirmed to police that they saw you come home.

Matt:
              [
muffled noises
] I'm done.

Ben:
               That neighbor has since reached out to express regret about lying. They saw you, but another car showed up shortly after. They said it was a woman, and you two had an argument in your driveway.

Matt
:             [
muffled noises, banging
]

Ben:
               They didn't know who the mystery woman was, but apparently you were shouting at her, and then she left. And then you got back into your car and drove away. So, you told the police you were home all night, but you were actually out during the time Savvy was murdered.

And that's the end of the interview, folks. Matt left then, and I haven't been able to get in contact with him again since.

I agree to go out to the woods with Ben, to the spot where Savvy was found. It's not what I expected for our first interview, but I don't have a good reason to say no.

And I really tried to think of a good reason to say no.

So now I am marching to the door of Ben's hotel room, about to drive with this smug, lying podcaster to the scene of the crime.

“Hello.” Ben greets me at the door of his hotel room with a smile.

“Hello, asshole.”

Behind Ben, Paige lets out a cackle. She sits on the couch, bare feet casually propped up on the coffee table. I wonder whether the two of them are sleeping together.

I hope not, and then I hate myself for it.

Ben's smile widens, like he relishes being called an asshole. “It's so nice to see you too, Lucy.”

“When were you going to tell me that Matt left with some mystery person the night that Savvy died?”

I called and texted Matt several times since listening to the episode last night. Shockingly, he seems to be avoiding me.

“
Let's kill him before he kills you
,” Savvy says in my ear. “
Didn't I tell you how good I am at that? I can make a man wish he never laid eyes on me, much less hands
.”

It wasn't the plan, to kill him the night of the wedding. We were still just talking about it.

Did the plan change? Did we run into Matt that night?

I think of him standing near the front door, genuine fear in his eyes. The man who once sneered at me, “
You call that a punch? Hit me again. HIT ME AGAIN!
”

“You found out eventually, didn't you?” Ben says, pulling me back to the present.

“I thought we were working together here. I don't get a heads-up?”

“No,” Ben says.

“No,” Paige echoes behind him.

“Not really feeling the trust here, Ben.”

He laughs. “Do you trust
me
?”

Not even a little bit. “Fair point.”

He grabs his bag and steps out of the hotel room, pulling the door closed behind him. “I'm going to turn the mic on once we're in the car, okay?”

“Okay.” I turn away, in case my face betrays my nerves.

I follow Ben to his car. “Are there more interview bombshells coming?”

“Of course.” He opens the door and smiles at me over the hood. “Ready?”

“Have you been out here since it happened?” Fifteen minutes later, Ben is worried. He frowns as he says the words, taking his eyes off the road for so long that I actually point out the windshield to remind him that he's driving. He faces forward.

We're on the narrow road that leads to the Byrd Estate. There are two roads that go to the venue—a main one, nicely paved and less dangerous, and this one, narrow and bumpy, with thick trees on either side. The latter is a much faster way to get to the highway, and it's the one where they found Savvy's car parked, abandoned.

“Yes.” I slump down in my seat. My heart is thumping too fast,
and I try to pretend that it's just a sugar rush from the cookies I ate before leaving the house. The cold air blasting out of the vents is finally starting to cool the car down, and I focus on the feeling of it against my face.

I haven't seen Savvy again, but her voice is in my head constantly now. Just an endless stream of “
Let's kill your husband!
”

“When?” He glances at me again, but only for a moment this time.

“My mom brought me out here after the police opened the area back up. We walked around, hoping it would spark a memory.” I speak a little slowly, considering my words before I say them. I'm Podcast Lucy now.

I am not “I was planning to kill my husband with my friend” Lucy. She needs to stay buried deep inside.

“It didn't.” It's not a question.

“
Get up, Lucy. GET UP
.” The memory of Mom yelling at me as I collapsed, fingers gripping the dirt, came roaring back. I try to push it away.

“
This is not how innocent people act. You know that, right?
” she said to me as we drove away, me sobbing in the passenger's seat.

I hadn't known that. How would an innocent person have acted? I'd always meant to ask.

“Lucy.” Ben's concerned again.

“No, it didn't work.”

He parks in the dirt on the side of the road. The buzz of crickets grows louder as I open my door.

He holds his digital recorder as we begin walking into the trees. They're thick, providing ample shade, but it doesn't help much. It's after six, the sun still blazing, the air thick with humidity. Sweat is already rolling down my back, and we've been out of the car all of two minutes.

I thought the microphone would bother me more. I thought that visiting the scene of the crime after all these years would bother me
less. Everything is still upside down, and I feel off-balance. I wish I'd said no to this. No, Ben, interview me indoors, in air-conditioning, like a normal fucking person.

We're following a thin dirt path, and I focus on it. Try to breathe.

“The police had this area roped off for what, a week?” Ben asks.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“And how long after that did you come out here?”

“I don't remember exactly. A couple days, maybe.”

“What was that like for you? To visit the scene again, I mean.”

I bite back my first response—
It was a fucking party, Ben, what do you think?
I'm Podcast Lucy right now. Innocent people don't make sarcastic comments.

“
Innocent people don't plot to kill their husbands
.” That wasn't Savvy. She never said that. But I hear the words in her voice anyway.

“It was rough,” I say.

He nods and is quiet for several moments.

“What about before? You're a runner, right? Did you ever come out here for a run? That trail is nearby.”

I don't know how he knows that I'm a runner, but it's entirely possible that Ben knows more about me than I know about myself at this point.

“I didn't start running until a few years ago. And I hate running outside, so, no. I'd never come out here for a run. Especially not in this heat.” A bug dive-bombs my face, and I barely stop myself from screaming a curse. I flap my hand in front of my face a little too vigorously. I look as crazy as I feel.

“But you knew about the trail, right?”

“Yeah, of course. It's not a big town, and the sign for the trail is right off the road. I passed it a million times.”

We're still walking, and I realize I don't know exactly where Savvy's body was found. Everything looks the same out here. Just a dirt path looping through identical trees.

Would an innocent person have remembered? Maybe an innocent
person would have come out here every day, desperately searching for the memory. I visited twice and dissolved into hysterics both times.

I can actually sort of see Mom's point, now that I think about it.

I catch Ben staring again, eyebrows drawn together. He must know where Savvy's body was found. He would have planned all this out beforehand—the route, the questions. Maybe he even practiced that concerned look he keeps giving me.

He points. “It's right up here.”

I wonder whether he read the expression on my face. The thought makes me uncomfortable. I turn away from him.

My heart is thumping too loud in my ears and sweat is pouring down my back. It's not even that hot today, by Texas standards. I feel a little dizzy.

I spot flowers in a small pink vase in front of a tree and I stop. Yellow roses. Savvy's favorite.

“Her mom comes out here regularly,” Ben explains, noticing my gaze. I nod mutely.

There's no evidence of where Savvy was found, of course—it's been too long—but I remember now. The police showed me photos of the body, half-covered in dirt, her dress ripped in several places.

I stared at the torn strap of her dress, hanging on by a thread. I knew how that happened. I knew, but I couldn't remember.

Or I just wanted to remember so badly that I tried to create a memory. Hard to say now.

“Are you okay?” Ben asks.

“Yeah.”

“Does being out here make you feel any particular way?”

I stare at him. Marvel at the stupid question.

“You've seemed out of sorts since we got out of the car. Is it hard for you to be out here, at the spot where she died?”

“Of—of course it's hard.” I take a breath, but it doesn't help.

Savvy appears behind him. She's in a short black dress that she wore often—cotton, casual, clinging to her body in a way that made
everyone take a second glance. She grins as she mimes strangling him. I blink and she's gone.

I need to get out of here. My mind is swimming, and I can't be Podcast Lucy when I can't think straight. I might say something awful or dumb or—

This is not how innocent people act.

“Can you talk about why it's so upsetting for you to be out here? Is it just because it's the spot where Savvy died, or does it bring up other memories as well?”

A bead of sweat rolls down the side of my face. It's too hot to breathe. The air is thick and horrible.

The edges of my vision go black. My legs go numb. There's a loud buzzing in my ear and I don't know whether it's all the goddamn bugs or that my brain has given up. I wouldn't blame my brain cells for peacing out. I'm surprised they made it this long.

“Oh shit.” Ben's voice sounds far away, but when I sway, I hit him instead of the ground.

He slows my fall but we both still end up in the dirt. I don't think he's caught very many swooning ladies. He's not very good at it.

I don't want to be down here, so close to where Savvy was, but all I can manage is to sit up, butt in the dirt.

“Hey. Lucy. Look at me.” Ben is on his knees next to me, one hand on my back and the other on my arm, like he's worried I'm going to fall over.

I mean, I guess that's fair.

“Are you okay?”

He's full of stupid questions today.

“Can you … I don't know what to do. Should I call an ambulance?” He's already got his phone out. I catch sight of the microphone, on the ground not far away.

I shake my head.

“Do you want some water?”

I shake my head again.

“Jesus. I'm sorry.” He speaks softly, and his hand goes a little firmer on my arm. “I'm so sorry.”

I blink twice. A breeze ruffles his hair, and it provides a tiny moment of relief from the heat.

“For what?” I ask.

He looks startled. “For bringing you out here. For pressing you.”

His expression is soft, like he's found a wounded puppy to take care of, and I don't like it. I pull my arm away and slowly get to my feet. He reaches out to make sure I'm steady but doesn't touch me again.

I turn away. “I'm going back to the car.”