“Lucy.” She’s already incredibly tired of me, and I haven’t even arrived yet.
“Let one of my cousins have the room. They’ll be in town, right?”
“Only for a night or two. You’re staying with us. We have plenty of room. Besides, everyone will talk if you don’t stay here.”
Ah. There’s the only reason that matters.
I turn around and lean against the railing. Inside, Nathan is furiously texting. “God forbid people gossip about me. I can’t imagine what that would be like.”
“The cheapest hotel in town is like eighty dollars a night anyway, and I doubt it’s up to your standards.”
“Bold of you to assume I have standards.” Though, she has a point. Considering that I’ve just lost my job, I don’t need to be spending several hundred dollars on a hotel room.
“Just stay with us, Lucy. Don’t make things harder.”
She left off the “like you always do” at the end of that sentence. I guess it’s implied.
“Okay. Thank you.”
“Oh.” She sounds surprised, like she didn’t actually think she’d succeed. I’m going soft, I guess. “Good.”
“Seriously, how’d you break your leg?”
“I fell off the stair machine. You know the one at the gym, with the stairs that go round and round to nowhere? Well, it’s quite high up, and I missed a step and … it was embarrassing, to say the least.”
“Sounds painful.”
“It was. Anyway, I’ll let you go. Oh, and did your grandma tell you about that—”
“Yes, I know about the podcast.”
* * *
I’ve actually probably known about the podcast longer than anyone. I received the first email five months ago.
From: Ben Owens
Subject: Listen for the Lie Podcast
Hi Lucy,
My name is Ben Owens and I’m a journalist and the host of the podcast Listen for the Lie. I’m doing some research into the murder of Savannah Harper, and I’d love to sit down and talk with you. I actually live in Los Angeles too, so I’d be happy to come to you. Please feel free to email me or call at 323-555-8393.
Cheers,
Ben
I didn’t reply.
My research turned up the first season of his podcast, and quite a few news articles that gave him decidedly mixed reviews.
“Questionable ethics,” one article said, “but you can’t argue with the results!”
Another article described Ben as having “boyish good looks,” which had only made me hate him more. I’ve never liked men who can be described as having boyish good looks. They’re always smug.
But I never reply to emails about Savvy, and I wasn’t making an exception for this smug bastard, so I archived it and moved on.
Of course, most emails about Savvy don’t require a response. They’re usually some version of “How do you live with yourself, you heartless bitch?” or “You’re going to hell,” except almost always with the wrong your, which is extremely distracting. An insult doesn’t have the intended impact when spelled incorrectly. I’d reply to let them know, but, in my experience, dumbasses don’t appreciate having their spelling corrected.
I sit down on the bed next to my open suitcase, scrolling through the emails that Ben sent me months ago. Brewster nudges the bag of jelly beans on the nightstand with his nose, and I shoo him away from it and pop one in my mouth.
A second email had arrived a few weeks after the first, asking again for a meeting. And then a third:
From: Ben Owens
Subject: Listen for the Lie Podcast
Hi Lucy,
One last email! I’d really love to interview you, and get your side of the story. I’m willing to meet on your terms. The podcast is really coming together, and I think it’s important to hear your side of the story.
Cheers,
Ben.
Oh, sweet, naive Ben. No one gives a shit about my side of the story.
To be fair, my side of the story is “I don’t remember anything,” so it’s not exactly exciting. Or believable, apparently. I glance out the door at Nathan, who is drinking away his awkward feelings about his murderous girlfriend on the couch, the glow from the television flickering across his tense face.
I’ve tried to avoid thinking about just how popular this season of the podcast is, but now I can’t stop myself. I google Ben Owens Listen for the Lie. A picture of him pops up. He looks very smug.
There are numerous articles about the podcast. The usual true crime websites have picked up the story, but it’s splashed across national media as well. Entertainment Weekly and Vanity Fair and a dozen other places have articles with headlines like “This Small-Town Murder Will Be Your New True Crime Obsession” and “Come for the Murder, Stay for the Accents: Listen for the Lie Podcast Digs Up a Cold Case in Texas.” Twitter is having an absolute field day with theories.