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.”