The Lies You Told

by Emerald O'Brien

  “I’m writing a book about what happened,” Madigan said, “or trying to, anyway. I don’t know if it’ll get published, but I’d like to get a better idea of what happened here. I was hoping to speak with some of Cheyenne’s friends here to get a better idea of…”

  “How a woman like her could do something like that?” she asked.

  Madigan sat on a stool in front of the woman “I just want to understand. I went through a lot to find Angie, but since I couldn’t talk to her or anyone involved, I still have questions.”

  “You can quote me on this,” she said. “There’s nothing to understand. Good people do bad things. Bad people do good things. Therefore, there’s no such thing as a good or bad person.”

  “That’s one way to look at it. Could I have a rum and coke, please?”

  “With cherries, right?” the woman asked.

  “Good memory. Thanks.”

  “Comin’ right up.”

  As the woman turned and grabbed a bottle of rum, Madigan kept an eye on the Leman brothers from the mirror behind the bottles on the bar shelves.

  Jared Leman looked like his driver’s licence picture they saw on the computer screen at the prison. Big, nice eyes, thick neck, tanned skin, and solid build.

  Tommy had the same solid build, but the rest was the opposite with a creamy complexion, shaved head, and light green eyes she recognized from the news reports.

  They’re brighter in person.

  The brothers lingered around the pool table with two other men, their boots muddy and worn and their clothes dusty.

  They must have come here straight from work.

  Jared finished his beer, picking up the pitcher, and said something to the group before heading toward the bar. The bartender set Madigan’s rum and coke down in front of her and stepped to the side to greet Jared as he approached.

  “Hey, sugar,” she said in a honeyed tone, “another pitcher?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a huge smile. “We’re celebratin’, after all.”

  His brother’s back, and he’s happy. How could he forgive him for killing a young, defenseless woman?

  She took the pitcher from him and turned to the tap.

  Not asking any questions. Maybe she already knows why they are celebrating…

  “Hey,” an older man shouted from a booth by the bar, “we’re playing the winners, alright?”

  “That’ll be us, Hammy!” Jared nodded, waving, revealing a tattoo on his forearm under his shirt sleeve: Leman, in cursive writing.

  “Sure, sure.” Hammy chuckled, waving him off, and went back to his conversation with his friend across the booth.

  Madigan took her cell phone out. No new messages.

  She must have gone. Good.

  “Hey, there.” Jared turned to Madigan “I don’t know you.”

  “No, you don’t,” Madigan said so matter-of-factly, he laughed.

  “This one’s here to write a book about what happened with Angie,” the bartender said. “She wasn’t only here when it happened—she was part of it all.”

  Jared squinted, likely through his blurry beer-goggle vision, trying to recognize her as she took a sip of her drink.

  “Yeah, well,” he huffed, his tone and mood changing, “we don’t want any trouble here, do we, Lola?”

  She shook her head.

  “All that’s behind us,” Jared said, glancing back at his brother.

  He probably doesn’t even realize I know who his brother is and what he’s done.

  “Here you go, sugar.” Lola handed him the pitcher.

  “Thanks!” He held up the pitcher and turned to Madigan. “Say, would you like a glass?”

  “No thanks. Beer’s not really my thing.”

  He nodded with a warm smile. “Well, a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be alone in a place like this, so if you want to join me for one, you feel free.”

  She smiled and nodded, turning back to her drink as he strode toward the pool table on a crooked imaginary path. Madigan typed a message to Grace. They are starting another pitcher of beer and playing pool. Still good. Update me when you can.

  Madigan scanned the rest of the bar, feeling more alone and vulnerable searching through the sea of unfamiliar faces.

  I wonder where Amanda Post is if she’s not at her house or here…

  She opened the message to Grace again as it hit her.

  Be careful. Amanda’s not here. She could still be at their place.

  After sending the message, she slipped the phone back in her pocket and focused on her drink as an older woman sat on the stool next to her and ordered a beer.

  Lola gave the woman the same introduction to Madigan that she gave to Jared, and the woman eyed her as she took the first sip of her beer.

  “What kind of a book will it be?” she asked.

  “Just a re-telling of events from the people of South Bend.”

  The woman chuckled. “Have ya found anyone who’s telling anything yet?”

  Madigan stared at her.

  “Yeah. Didn’t think so. Folks around here already have issues with how South Bend looks to outsiders. We don’t need any more dark history publicized, and we certainly don’t need some outsider controlling the narrative.”

  “What kind of dark history?” Madigan asked. “Besides Angie.”

  “Yeah.” A man’s voice came from behind them, and they both turned to face Tommy Leman. “What kind of dark history, Beth?”

  Beth cleared her throat and grabbed her beer. “Nothin’, Tommy. You know how people like to poke around here, but I told her to get lost.”

  She hopped off her stool as Tommy reached across her back and rested his arm on her shoulder, using his arm to pull her neck closer to him. “Is that any way to treat a guest?”

  Beth stumbled, leaning against him, and stared up at him, wide-eyed and closed-lipped.

  “Go on now.” Tommy laughed, letting her go, and shoved his hands in his pockets, his fingers nearly slipping through the hole at the bottom of one. “Don’t mind the old geezers around here. They get all territorial about this place, but it’s nothing to be so proud about.”

  Madigan nodded to him.

  “My brother said you’re writing a book. That true?”

  She nodded. “Well, trying to anyway.”

  “That’s so cool.” He sat on the stool next to her, dirt falling from his boots as they knocked against the bar, and waved to Lola. “Could I get a bottled water?”

  “Sure thing,” she called and turned toward the back.

  “I’m not a drinker,” he said, turning to Madigan. She felt his eyes on her, staring her down. “Isn’t it funny how bottled water tastes so much better than tap?”

  She nodded with a polite smile before taking a sip of her drink.

  “It’s such a waste, though, when you think about all that plastic, just for some water most people can get from a tap.” Lola set the bottle in front of him and walked away. “Well, now I feel guilty.”

  Madigan felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, but Tommy would be able to see the text if she checked, so she took another sip of her drink.

  “You got a boyfriend?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I do.” Her default answer came easily after using it on so many men she had hoped would leave her alone.

  He unscrewed the lid of his bottle. “Ah.”

  This is my chance to find out about Amanda.

  “Do you have a girlfriend?” The words escaped her lips before she had a chance to rethink them.

  He grinned, and his green eyes sparkled. “I was with someone for a while.”

  “Not anymore?”

  “Not anymore.” He spoke slowly and leaned in closer. “And I’m guessing since you’re here alone, and you asked me if I was single, you might be before long too.”

  I need to keep him talking. Give him a reason to confide in me.

  Madigan shrugged. “I really like him, but… Well, I shouldn’t say. It’s personal.”

/>   Tommy laughed. “Hell, if you can’t talk to a random stranger about it, who else will be your unbiased ear? A therapist? Ugh, don’t tell me you’re in therapy together.”

  She shook her head.

  “Good. Those quacks are so high and mighty, sitting on their pedestals, judging the rest of us. It’s sick.” He took a sip of water before getting still. “Alright, if you feel a little shy, I’ll go first. The girl I was seeing was too into me.”

  Madigan nodded in acknowledgement while remaining in her forward-facing position.

  “I know. A lot of guys would love that. My brother would—but we’re different—that’s for sure.”

  “So that’s why you ended things? She was too clingy?”

  If she’s not with him anymore, then where is she?

  Tommy nodded, turning more toward the bar himself.

  “When?” she asked.

  “Yesterday. This is my first day as a free man. There was another problem—a bigger one—but I won’t get into it until you tell me yours.”

  I have to do this. This is too big of a chance to pass up, and it’ll give Grace more time.

  “Well, my situation’s a little different.” Madigan turned to him. “He’s engaged.”

  Ugh, why did I say that? I should have made something up.

  “And not to you.” Tommy scoffed. “Wow, okay, that’s weird. So why are you still hung up on him, and so, what, you’re like the side-piece?”

  “Not exactly.”

  At least this way, I can keep my facts straight.

  “Well, if he’s engaged, why are you still seeing him? That’s kinda messed up.”

  “Because… I… I think we belong together.”

  Tommy laughed. “Trust me, if he’s engaged to her, he’s already made his choice. You’re here right now, all alone, and he’s what? With her, right? You know what they’re probably doing right now, don’t you?”

  He laughed, but as the thought sank in, he must have seen something in her to change his mind.

  “Hey, Lola, get her another of whatever she’s having! Make it a double!”

  “Oh, no, that’s alright.”

  “No way. If they’re having a good time, we’re going to have a better time here. I promise, by the end of the night, you won’t even remember his name. Mine’s Tommy, by the way, and you are?”

  I can’t give him my real name. That’s too far.

  “Madison.”

  “Well, Madison, do you play pool?”

  She shook her head as Lola set another double rum and coke in front of her, eyeing the two of them.

  “Hey,” Lola said, “I’ve got something for your book if you have some time right now?”

  Madigan nodded and reached into her bag for a notebook.

  “Sorry, Lola,” Tommy said. “She’s busy with me.”

  Lola looked at her, and Madigan knew she should say something, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be rescued.

  “I told you about my issues,” Madigan said, facing Tommy again. “Now let’s hear what the big issue was in your relationship.”

  He smiled as Lola walked back down the bar toward other patrons. “Fair’s fair. She was clingy, yeah, but that wasn’t the worst part. I couldn’t trust her.”

  “Ah.” Madigan pretended to take a sip of her new drink without letting the liquid past her lips.

  “Now that’s the worst. When you can’t trust someone. My brother you met there, Jared, he’s the most loyal guy ever. She stuck by me during a rough time, too, so I thought she was loyal, but…” He shook his head, staring at his own reflection in the bar mirror.

  “But?”

  “I hate liars,” he sneered, clutching his water bottle so tight, water spurted from the top, bringing him back to reality as it dripped over his fingers. He turned to her. “You don’t lie, do you, Madison?”

  What did you lie to him about, Amanda? Were you scared, because when he was behind bars, you didn’t have to worry, but things changed when he got out? Or did you cross him?

  “Do little white ones count?” she asked.

  He laughed. “Naw, we all have those. I’m talking pretending you’re one thing, but actually being something else.”

  What was she pretending to do? If she was helping Tommy with his plan for revenge, what did she pretend to do?

  “Is that what she did to you?”

  Jared stepped between them and nudged Tommy. “Hey, bro, they’re ready for us.”

  Tommy nodded. “I was just enjoying some time with Madison, here. Why don’t you find another partner?”

  “No can do,” Jared said, his knuckles turning white as he clutched Tommy’s shoulder. “Gonna need you over there. Excuse us.”

  Is he worried about what Tommy’s doing over here with me? Maybe he doesn’t trust his brother after all.

  Madigan nodded. “Of course.”

  Jared used his grip to guide Tommy away toward the pool table, and Tommy shook him off as they arrived, glancing over his shoulder at Madigan.

  “Cool it, okay?” Jared asked him.

  If I stay here much longer, I’m tempting another encounter… But Grace needs more time.

  Grace.

  She opened her cell and tapped on her message.

  Still Alive. Send cake.

  Madigan smiled and took a deep breath.

  “Hey,” Lola whispered as she approached. “Keep your distance from him. There’s only so much I can do.”

  “I appreciate it,” Madigan whispered back.

  “You should leave—now.”

  A cold draft swirled across the room as more patrons filed out into the dark parking lot.

  I could leave right now, but where would I go, and how would I get there?

  No. I told Grace I could do this.

  Madigan stared down at her drink. “Could you take this back?”

  Lola nodded as Madigan sipped at the melted ice from her first drink. She snuck a peek at the mirror, and Tommy stared back at her before taking his shot at the billiard ball, sending them all flying in different directions across the table. He winked at her before handing the cue to Jared.

  Hurry up, Grace.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Still alive. Send Cake, Grace typed and sent the message as she hid among the bushes by the small shed surrounded by trees. The Leman’s property spanned over an acre of land, and the small shed was the first thing she came across after crossing the cornfield.

  It had no windows, and as she pressed on the door, nothing gave way.

  I could kick this down right now, but I can’t make any noise. Madigan’s right. Amanda could be inside or around here somewhere.

  I never should have left Madigan at the bar.

  She yanked at the handle, jiggling it loose from the frame, causing a low wave of sound from the metal until it slid sideways just enough to fit through.

  It wasn’t locked. If they had her in here, they would have locked it.

  She clicked her flashlight on, shining it across the shed from one side to the other, illuminating hunting equipment, a rusty snow blower, and buckets. She stomped hard against the floor to unsettle any hidden doors, but nothing suspicious or out of place stood out.

  Not enough room to hold someone in here, and too much dust to suggest any recent movement.

  She clicked off her flashlight and stepped back outside, closing the metal door behind her. Glancing through the forest just beyond the clearing, she spotted a more modern, rustic structure, and jogged toward it, glancing around her, watching for movement.

  The structure had one wide window on each of the long sides, and Grace approached the one facing the back property, peeking around the corner into a dim but tidy workshop. Wood planks leaned against the wall by the door, and work benches, tool chests, and storage shelves lined the rest of it.

  I need to check the property…but the house is right here.

  Why haven’t I heard from Madigan again?

  Focus.

  She’ll text
me if it’s important. I need to focus on looking for Tina.

  She crept toward the dark brick house, peeking into windows with no movement, light, or sound.

  If Amanda’s here, she could be held against her will too.

  She knelt down beside a basement window along the side of the house and peered inside, tugging on the window. It gave way, and she squeezed through, regaining her balance on the concrete floor and patting the gun by her side.

  She shone her flashlight around the open space. A treadmill and weights sat in one corner, with boxes in another. She crept across the concrete floor, past the wooden slatted staircase toward a door, her hand hovering close to her gun at her side.

  Twisting the knob, she opened it, and small creaking noises escaped from the hinges as her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She shone the light into the room at the computer desk ahead and a bookshelf on the adjacent wall with an unmade bed on a thick, wooden frame beside it.

  She walked around the room, inspecting the walls covered in posters of women in bikinis and the shelves lined with books on hunting, cooking animals, boating, fishing, and once in a while a picture frame displaying the brothers, looking even more alike in their youth, or their parents, together as a family, presumably on vacation at a cabin.

  A work out plan of some sort sat on the desk in front of the computer. She picked it up, and a 4 by 6 photo fell out from between the sheets. She stared at Amanda Post, sitting on a bed wearing red lingerie.

  Did she send this to him in prison? A souvenir to tide him over until the real thing?

  She turned it over.

  For Tommy, with all my love. You’re almost free and I’m ready and waiting.

  As she set the papers back down, a screen saver graphic appeared on the screen. The brothers stood in front of the house she was in, both in early adulthood. Jared leaned against the front porch railing, a big smile across his face. Tommy’s green eyes pierced through her as she studied his wide stance beside his brother, his hair almost as long as Jared’s, staring into the camera.

  Probably a year or two before Tommy killed Brianna.

  Tommy’s arms folded across his puffed-out chest.

  I wonder who took this picture? It looks like he’s putting on a front for them. Acting tough.

  Jared’s relaxed pose and rolled-up sleeves gave a casual impression, juxtaposing Tommy’s.