This Is How I Lied

by Heather Gudenkauf

  “Yeah, Dad and I were on the porch talking about it and the Harpers came outside,” Colin said. “He invited them to come too.”

  “Oh my God,” Maggie murmured, rising from her chair.

  “What’s the matter?” Shaun asked with concern. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Maggie said as the Harpers stepped into the backyard. Joyce carried a covered dish and Cam a small cooler. “Everyone’s here.”

  Nola leaned over and whispered to Maggie. “All we need is Nick Brady.”

  Joyce glanced uneasily at Nola. “We are so sorry to hear about your mother, Nola.”

  “Thank you,” Nola said. “She’s getting stronger every day. I’ll tell her you asked after her.”

  Nola watched as the Harpers fixed their plates and settled into their seats. She noticed how Cam Harper and Maggie didn’t make eye contact.

  “Maggie, you used to babysit for the Harpers when you were young, right?” Nola asked.

  “Yeah, I did,” Maggie shifted in her chair. “How old are the twins now?” she asked, directing her question to Joyce.

  “Thirty-two. Can you believe it?” Joyce marveled spearing up a forkful of pasta salad. “They have their own kids now. Cam is just champing at the bit when Sophie gets to the high school so he can coach her in softball.”

  “Oh, you coach softball?” Nola asked, turning to Cam. “How old are the girls you coach? Fourteen, fifteen?”

  “Somewhere around there,” Cam said, focused on his plate. “I love the game.”

  “What’s your next project, Colin?” Maggie asked, steering the conversation to a different topic.

  “Actually, I have a few in the hopper,” Colin said. “A sculpture of a family for the entrance area of the hospital in Willow Creek and one for the orchard.” He gave Shaun a big grin.

  “Nice,” Nola said, leaning forward on her elbows. “I’ve always thought a sculpture of a bird would be pretty. Don’t you think? Maybe one in red, like a cardinal.” Nola looked first at Maggie and then at Cam as she spoke. “Some people say that when you see a cardinal, it’s a dead loved one coming to visit you.”

  “What a nice thought,” Joyce said, oblivious to the tension at the table. “I’ve never heard that before.”

  “How about it, Colin?” Nola asked. “Do you think you could do that for me?”

  “Sure,” Colin agreed affably. “I’ll stop by next week and you can tell me more about what you’re thinking.”

  “Excuse me for a moment,” Cam said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. “I’ll be right back.” He went around the side of the house and toward the front yard.

  “Such a bad habit,” Joyce said once Cam was out of earshot. “He’s tried quitting a million times but can’t kick it. I swear it will be the death of him.”

  “So,” Nola said, turning toward Maggie. “What’s going on with my sister’s case? What juicy tidbits can you tell us? When will the DNA come back? Any new suspects?”

  “Why do you want to talk to Maggie?” Henry asked in annoyance. “That’s my case, Nola. If you have any questions, you should ask me.”

  “Okay, then,” Nola said, leaning in close to Henry. “Who do you think killed my sister?”

  Maggie abruptly stood. “Sorry, I can’t talk about the case.”

  “Are you okay?” Colin asked. “Do you need water?”

  Shaun stood and gently put a hand on Maggie’s back. “I think she just needs to go home and get some rest. It’s been quite the week with the fire and all. You go on to the truck, Maggie, I’ll grab our stuff.”

  “Ahh, the fire,” Nola said, “I almost forgot about that. Any leads on how that started?”

  Maggie ignored her question and Shaun’s gesture and went into the house.

  “I’ll go after her,” Colin offered.

  “No, let me,” Nola said. “You stay.” Nola let herself into the house and watched as Maggie pushed through the front door and stopped short when she saw Cam Harper smoking a cigarette on the front lawn.

  Nola watched as Maggie stared at Cam for a long moment, straightened her spine and walked directly toward him. Though she couldn’t hear what was being said, Nola could tell by the stunned expression on Cam’s face that Maggie was giving him an earful. Cam reeled backward and held up his hands as if they could shield him from the onslaught of words, then he regained his composure and stepped forward. Maggie held her ground, hand on hips, mouth moving rapidly. Cam looked as if he might explode but instead brushed roughly past her and toward the Kennedy backyard.

  “Go, Maggie,” Nola whispered, surprised at Maggie’s vehemence. Nola could only imagine what Maggie had to say to Cam, but whatever it was, it hit its mark. This was getting more interesting by the minute.

  Maggie awkwardly lowered herself to the curb. For a moment Nola wondered if something might be wrong with the baby, but Maggie was simply struggling to tie her shoe.

  “I wonder what that was all about,” Shaun said, looking over Nola’s shoulder.

  “I have no idea,” Nola murmured. Obviously Shaun had no inkling of Maggie’s past involvement with Cam Harper. Shaun stepped past her and down the steps. Nola watched with interest as he held out his hands to help Maggie to her feet. So many secrets just waiting to be spilled, she thought. Nola couldn’t wait to see how it all played out.

  MAGGIE KENNEDY-O’KEEFE

  Friday, June 19, 2020

  As we drive home from Colin’s I vacillate between wanting to tell Shaun everything and keeping my mouth shut.

  Shaun can see that something is wrong. He keeps glancing over at me as he drives. “Maggie, what’s going on?” he asks. “Is it the baby?”

  “We’re fine,” I snap. “Quit asking me that.”

  “Sorry,” Shaun says, not sounding sorry at all. “Sorry for being concerned about my wife and our baby. I’ll shut up now.”

  “Let me out,” I say as we pull into our lane.

  “What?” Shaun asks.

  “Stop the truck, right here,” I order. “I need to get out.”

  “Maggie,” Shaun sighs. “What’s going...”

  “I said stop the truck!” I shout.

  Shaun yanks the truck over to the side of the road and throws it into Park. I fumble with the door handle, throw open the door and step out into the humid evening air. I grab my purse from the truck’s floor. It’s where I put the bag that Nola gave me. I don’t want to take the chance of Shaun finding it.

  “I just need some air,” I tell Shaun. His face is stony as he pulls away leaving me behind in a cloud of dust.

  A new wave of shame comes over me. I’m not the woman my husband thought he married.

  I take a deep breath and am met with the smell of fallen apples, decaying in the evening heat. I slowly walk beneath the canopy of leaves and reach up to pluck a red-and-green Cortland from a low-hanging limb. I roll it around in my hands until I come to one of the wrought-iron benches that we have placed intermittently throughout the orchard for visitors to take a rest.

  I sit and take a bite of the apple, its sweetness exploding in my mouth. You’d think that living on an orchard, surrounded by thousands of apples would make me sick of them. But I’m not. If anything I crave them even more now that I’m pregnant. Shaun jokes that the baby will crave applesauce the minute she’s born. He’s probably right.

  I confronted Cam. I can’t believe it, but I did. All the rage and anger that’s been bottled up inside of me for the last twenty-five years spewed forth when I saw him standing on my dad’s front lawn smoking that cigarette.

  Of course he said I was crazy. That nothing happened between the two of us, that it was all in my head and I had no proof. He said if I said another word about it, he would sue me for defamation and then he walked away.

  I sat on the curb, tightened my shoelace and saw Cam’s smolde
ring cigarette butt on the ground and I knew what I had to do. After Shaun helped me to my feet I asked him if he would go and get a few pieces of the pie to bring home with us. While he was gone I reached into the truck’s glove compartment and fished out an old newspaper that Shaun had stuffed inside.

  Making sure to leave no fingerprints I used the newspaper to carefully scoop up the cigarette that Cam discarded and slid them both into the glove box.

  I gnaw on the apple, surrounded by the buzz of cicadas. This should be one of the happiest times of our lives. We’re just about to have the baby we’ve wanted for years, I’ve recently been made detective and the orchard is doing great but I know better than anyone that everything you love can be taken away in a second.

  “That’ll be seventy-five cents.” I look up to find Shaun standing over me.

  “It’s worth it,” I say, tossing the apple core to the ground. Shaun settles on to the bench next to me, reaches for my hand. It’s warm and calloused and fits perfectly with mine.

  “How’s Johnny Appleseed doing in there?” he asks, laying his other hand across my belly. The baby swoons with his touch and we both look at each other in delight.

  “Johnny’s a girl,” I remind him.

  Shaun shrugs. “Who says a girl can’t be named Johnny? We’ll just drop an ie at the end of her name. All the cool kids are doing that.”

  I laugh. It feels good. We sit quietly for a moment, holding hands and gazing up at the red orbs swaying lightly with the breeze.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I was way out of line. It’s just that I’ve been buried in Eve’s case. And having to be in the same space as Nola and the Harpers, it was like being transported back in time twenty-five years. It’s making me crazy.”

  Shaun is quiet for a moment. “You weren’t out of line, Maggie. She was your best friend. You want to find out what happened to her.”

  I nod. “I’m driving the evidence to the state lab on Monday. Then I’m going to tell Digby that I’m not working the case anymore.”

  Shaun doesn’t look as happy about this as I thought he would. “What?” I ask. “What’s wrong?”

  “I did see Eve that day,” he says, kicking the dirt with his boot. “We were friends. Sort of.”

  “Friends?” I ask in confusion. “You and Eve?”

  “Eve was looking for her sister that afternoon, so we drove around looking for her. I told the police all about it. They checked my alibi. You believe me, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do, but why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, floored by this revelation.

  He shrugs. “I thought you probably already knew and didn’t want to discuss it. I could see how much it hurt you to talk about Eve. I didn’t want to make it worse for you.”

  I reach for his hands; despite the hot weather, they are cold and clammy.

  “We drove to the caves,” Shaun says, rubbing my knuckles. “And we found her sister.” Shaun goes on to tell me about seeing Nola with the knife, the dog, the blood.

  “That’s awful,” I murmur. “Did you tell the police this?”

  “I wanted to, but Eve made me promise I wouldn’t. I dropped her off and drove away. Next thing I know she’s dead. I thought for sure Nola did it, but then nothing happened. Her mother vouched for her and no one was arrested. The longer I didn’t say anything, the easier it was to keep it a secret.” I know exactly how he feels.

  “It was easier to pretend that it was just some crazy person who killed her, that nothing I could do or say would help the police.” Shaun looks at me helplessly. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I know.” I lean into him. “It’s okay.”

  Shaun lets out a breath of relief. “What about Nola and the dog? She didn’t see me but she saw Eve. That’s why I thought Nola might have killed her. It was awful, seeing her kneeling over that dog, its stomach all torn apart. Could she have done it? Killed her sister?”

  “No, it wasn’t Nola,” I say. “Don’t say anything to anyone about this,” I tell him. “It isn’t relevant anymore.”

  “She’s crazy though, isn’t she?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I say. “She is.”

  We begin to feel the sting of mosquitoes and know it’s time to go inside for the night. We walk to the truck and Shaun drives us back to the house. We spend the rest of the evening in front of the television watching sitcoms and eating the pie we never got to eat at Dad’s.

  Shaun keeps one hand atop my belly hoping to catch the baby moving. He’s in luck. Little Johnnie is in rare form tonight. Rolling and kicking and punching her little fists into my ribs.

  Just for tonight, I’m not going to think about Eve or Nola or Cam Harper. Just for tonight I’m only going to think of Shaun and the baby. Nothing else.

  EVE KNOX

  Friday, December 22, 1995

  3:15 p.m.

  Eve slammed down the phone. “Who was that?” Nola asked.

  There was no way Eve was going to tell Nola that it was Nick and what he said to her. She wondered what it would be like to not be afraid all the time. Afraid of what others thought of her, afraid of what Nick might do, what Nola might do.

  Eve breathed a sigh of relief once Nola walked out the door. She had a few hours of uninterrupted peace. No Nola, no mother, no Nick. These moments were rare. She went to the kitchen, pulled a pop from the fridge and went upstairs to her room. Eve shivered. Her windows rattled from a brisk wind, sweeping in heavy snow clouds along with the cold. She coiled her scarf around her neck, climbed beneath her quilt and reached for the book that she borrowed from Maggie this morning.

  She flipped over on her stomach when something fell from the pages and to the floor.

  Eve reached down and picked it up. It was a bookmark made from red paper. It was cute, in the shape of a bird. Curious, she pulled at one of the corners and began to carefully dismantle the bird. As she pulled back each fold a word was revealed.

  Eve smoothed the pleated page with her hand and began to read.

  For Maggie, my sweet bird ~

  One day we will fly away from here and be together forever. Be patient. We only have to keep it a secret a little longer. I can’t wait to touch you again. To kiss you, to be inside you.

  I love you and only you.

  C.

  MAGGIE KENNEDY-O’KEEFE

  Saturday, June 20, 2020

  Somehow, amid all the fetal gymnastics, I must have dozed off because the house phone startles me awake. A blanket is covering me and Shaun is nowhere to be found. I struggle into a seated position on the couch and look around. The house is dark and the TV is off. The phone continues to trill and I get up to answer it. Since we changed our number we haven’t gotten any hang-up calls but that doesn’t mean they haven’t started again. I reach for my cell phone sitting on the coffee table and see that I’ve had six missed calls from my brother. Shit.

  By the time I get to the phone in the kitchen it’s stopped ringing and I can hear Shaun coming down the steps. I look at the clock on the microwave. It’s just after midnight. I use my cell to call Colin back and he immediately answers.

  “Jesus, Maggie,” he says. “I’ve been trying to call you for a half an hour. Dad took off.”

  “What do you mean he took off?” I ask, my heart thumping.

  “What’s going on?” Shaun whispers and I hold up my hand to silence him.

  “I mean he’s gone. I can’t find him anywhere.” Colin is breathing heavily as if he’s been running.

  “I thought you had an alarm on the door. Didn’t it go off? Are you sure he left the house?” I shove my feet into my shoes and start searching the kitchen for my car keys.

  “I forgot to set it. I’m sorry. I fell asleep.”

  “Jesus,” I mutter.

  “You want to deal with this?” Colin snaps. “Be my guest. It isn’t easy.”

  “I�
�m sorry,” I say. I have no right to judge Colin. He’s the one with Dad all day, every day. “Have you called the police?” I ask.

  “You are the police, Maggie.” Colin’s voice breaks.

  He’s right. We’ve already lost too much time and I need to take control of the situation. “I’ll call patrol and have them meet us at the house. Where are you right now?”

  “I’m walking around trying to find him,” he says. “Do you think he might have gone down the bluff?”

  “No,” I say immediately. “He wouldn’t have gone that way. He hasn’t been down that way forever.” For many years he walked up and down the rocky bluff in search of evidence, of anything that might lead to Eve’s killer but once, a few years ago, he slipped and fell, scraping his knees and cracking his elbow. The fall scared him enough to stop his daily treks.

  “He might have gotten confused,” Colin insists. “He could be trying to get down to the caves.”

  “Go back to the house and wait there in case he comes back. I’m on my way,” I order and hang up.

  Shaun reemerges, dressed and with car keys in hand. “I’ll drive,” he says and together we rush out of the house and into his truck. While he speeds down the highway I call dispatch and request that a patrol officer meet us at my dad’s house.

  “I knew something like this was going to happen,” I say in frustration. “He’s getting worse every day and Colin can’t watch him twenty-four/seven.”

  “We’ll worry about that later,” Shaun says, reaching for my hand. “Let’s concentrate on finding him first. He can’t have gone too far.”

  I know he’s probably right but I can’t help thinking about all the bad things that could have happened. He could have gone through the woods behind the Harper house and fallen down the bluff, he could have stepped into traffic and been hit by a car, he could have pitched into the creek, or wandered into a cornfield and gotten turned around. All terrifying prospects.

  When we pull onto my dad’s street, it has started to spit rain and Colin and Pete Francis are standing in front of the house wearing rain jackets and holding flashlights. “Any sign of him?” I ask the second I get out of the truck but from the look on Colin’s face I already know the answer.