Listen for the Lie

by Amy Tintera

“Were you going to knock, or just sit out here all night?” he

“Since you’re here, do you want to come in?” I give him a truly baffled look. “I don’t think your wife would appreciate that.” “We’re getting divorced. She moved back to Houston.”

“Why do you look so surprised? My grandma planned an entire birthday party just to get me here for this. You didn’t think she’d convince me?” “Honestly, no.” “I’m going to tell her about your lack of faith. She won’t be pleased.” “Too late, I’m already texting her.” He glances up briefly from his phone with a shit-eating grin. “You’re texting my grandma?” “We talk often.” “Jesus Christ.”

“New information. Kyle coughed up some.”

Ben: Did you know she was married? Kyle: I saw the ring. But I was single, and honestly, I wasn’t looking for a relationship anyway. A married lady seemed like a kind of ideal situation, actually.

Why? Want to meet my assistant? She’s in town.

A pretty Black woman with a head of long, thick curls and a friendly smile, sits on the couch. “Thanks for coming,” Ben says. “Paige didn’t believe that I actually got you to agree to an interview.”

“Why did you punch Ross Ayers in high school?”

“I get the feeling Emmett is keeping a lot of your secrets?” Paige cocks her head. It’s more of a challenge than a question.

So, to answer the question that a lot of you have been asking—yes. The amnesia defense is a real thing. Given the extent of Lucy’s injuries, it’s possible that she really doesn’t remember what happened that night. But is that the truth? And why is everyone in Plumpton so convinced she’s lying?

Matt hates it when I spill things.

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.

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.”

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

Keaton Harper. Savvy’s older brother.

“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.”

Ben: So it was Matt throwing Lucy out that made people think that Lucy was the one who murdered Savannah? Joanna: That started it, yeah. But it was the stuff with her parents that really sealed the deal for most people.

Ben: What about Don? William: What about him? Ben: Does he have something to hide? William: Welllll … listen, this is just town gossip, but you’re trying to get to the bottom of this, and I respect that. A lot of folks think that Don knew more than he let on. He was shifty back then, let me tell you what. And I don’t blame him one bit. If it had been my daughter, I would have protected her no matter what.

William: I probably shouldn’t say anything, but someone’s got to tell you. Apparently, Kathleen basically told Ivy that she knew Lucy was the one who killed Savvy.

“Lucy.” I stop and look back at him. “If you’ve remembered something, and you want to talk to someone, you can still talk to me.” I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I’m not sure what I expected, but that wasn’t it. “I…” He sighs and slides his hands into his pockets. He looks sad, which is an emotion I haven’t seen in him in a long time. I’ve forgotten what he looks like when he’s not just a little bit scared. “Maybe I didn’t handle things right. I don’t know. But I meant what I said back then. It’s okay.”

“You never tell your side of the story,” Ashley presses. I’ve told it more times than I can count. No one believed me. “I’m telling it to Ben.” I take a sip of my wine. Dad’s head pops up. His eyes spark with anger and questions. “You’re telling it to Ben?” Mom says the words so slowly. Perhaps they’re even interpreted as calm by the rest of the table.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Mom yells. Everyone freezes. “Yes, I had sex with Colin in my car the night of the wedding! Are you happy, Ben? You got me! I slept with the twenty-year-old, and to be honest, I enjoyed it.” “Wow.”

Grandma pats my cheeks as she settles into the front seat. “I told you I’d ruin your birthday,” I say. “My dear, you made it the best birthday ever.”

The memory forms, bright and clear, like it sharpened over the years instead of fading.

I had a bruise on my cheek. It was small. I could easily cover it with makeup, but I’d wanted Matt to see it and feel bad. He hadn’t. Instead, he pointedly held up his hand to show where I’d scratched him.

Savvy was right. It wouldn’t matter if I said I’d scratched him because I was defending myself. That he started it. Well, no, he’d dispute that. Matt would say I started it, by screaming at him again. “Don’t start shit you can’t finish,” he’d always say.

hadn’t, but I was fairly certain that Matt actually thought I had. He’d said the lie so many times he’d started to believe it himself. Hell, I was starting to believe it. The (fake?) memory of me violently shoving him now plays next to the (true?) memory of me flailing out my arms in anger and of him tripping because he was drunk again.

“I should have controlled my temper,” I said softly. I should have just cried. Taken the hits and crawled away to show my scars. I should have been a better victim. The truth doesn’t matter if you fight back. “I have an idea.” Savvy leaned closer to me. She met my eyes. Her mouth was set in a hard line, her gaze steely and serious. “Let’s kill your husband.”

The Savvy in front of me is the real version. Highlights grown out, makeup half-assed, frayed red bra strap sticking out from her tank top.

I don’t think she’s going to leave until I figure out what happened to her. I will be haunted by my friend and her murderous musings for the rest of my life unless I get my shit together.

“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.

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.

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

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: 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.

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.

“Have you finished episode five?” “No, I only got about halfway before I had to meet you.” “Oh.” He’s watching Grandma and her suitor. She laughs at something he says. “You should finish episode five.” “Why? What’d she say?” He takes a long sip of his drink. “She thinks Matt killed her.”

And people hate that quality in a young woman, don’t they? They don’t know what to do with a girl who isn’t looking for their approval. They feel like they have to bring her down a peg.

Ben: Did you tell Lucy your concerns? Beverly: Not at that time, no. She was twenty years old. No one wants their grandma weighing in on their boyfriend at that age. At any age, honestly. So, I kept my mouth shut until they got engaged.

“Can we talk about Colin Dunn for a minute?” Mom lets out a long-suffering sigh and plucks a napkin with a small dog-ear from the stack. “Don’t change the subject.” “Oh yes, let’s change the subject,” Grandma says, brushing powdered sugar off her shirt.

“Was it good?” Grandma interrupts. “Mother.” “What? Young men were not great at sex when I was—” “Please don’t finish that sentence,” Mom says, face scrunched up like she’s in pain. “I’m just saying. Some things get better with age.” I snort-laugh. Mom crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head. I lean closer to Grandma. “Savvy had no complaints,” I whisper. She cackles. Mom’s cheeks turn pink as she shoves the rest of the donut in her mouth.

A dark-haired woman on the end of the booth is draining the last of her margarita, and she barely takes a breath before she grabs the new one and takes a long sip. It’s Nina.

For someone who said she doesn’t drink much, she sure is putting away those margaritas.

“You recorded that? Matt yelling at you?” I ask as he sits down on the other side of the couch. “Yeah, I turned it on just in time.” “Is that legal?” “In Texas, you can record audio of people without their knowledge if there’s no reasonable expectation of privacy. So, in a restaurant, or a bar, or…”

Ben is staring at me expectantly. “I wouldn’t focus too much on Matt,” I say, finally.

Then he tosses the ice on the coffee table, leans over, and kisses me. I’m in his lap almost immediately, his hands under my dress and on my thighs. I can’t remember why I thought this was a bad idea. This is a great idea. This is the best idea I’ve had since arriving in this cursed city.

He pulls my dress down around my waist, his hands on my breasts. I unbutton his pants. I’d like to blame the vodka for that decision. And I’d like to blame the whiskey for letting him yank off my underwear so we can have sex right there on the couch. But that would be a lie.

I sit up slowly. I’m in his bed, naked, because after having sex on the couch he pulled me into his bedroom and we had sex in here too.

“Why do I get to do that?” “Because it includes an interview that makes me uncomfortable. I’ll cut it if you ask me to.” “Who’s the interview with?” “Maya Harper.” My stomach clenches the way it always does when someone mentions Maya. Savvy’s little sister. “Send me the interview.”