Chapter Twenty: Lucy

CHAPTER TWENTYLUCY

“Are you trying to imply that I’m crazy?”

Ben is sitting in his usual spot at the diner, leaned casually back in the booth. His laptop is closed in front of him, his notebooks piled neatly on top. He’s done for the day, or taking a break, or saw me coming and put everything away.

He squints at me. “What?”

I slide into the booth across from him. The redheaded kid behind the counter is staring at me. Someone must have clued him in as to who I am.

“Those questions you asked Ivy. What were you getting at?”

“What do you think I was getting at?” One side of his mouth lifts in an aggravating smirk.

“That I’m crazy. That a blow to the head and the stress of being accused of murder got to me and made me completely bonkers.”

“That is not what I was getting at.”

“Then what?”

“I’m just trying to get a clear picture of what happened right after the murder. The attention seemed to be very intensely focused on finding out who murdered Savvy. How many days did you have to recover before Savvy’s mother came to ask you questions?”

Zero days. I could still see Mrs. Harper standing in the doorway of my hospital room, tears streaming down her face. She’d held my hands and begged me.

“Please, Lucy, please. We need to know something. Anything.”

“I just think it’s strange that your mother was so willing to give Mrs. Harper immediate, unfettered access to you.” Ben lifts an eyebrow.

“I said it was fine. At the time. I could make my own decisions.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

I pause and then blurt out my next words. “I was invested in figuring out who murdered Savvy too. And I never told my parents I did it.” Not that I remember, anyway. The days after the murder are very fuzzy.

“Listen, when the urge to murder someone strikes, sometimes you just gotta go with it.”

The voice is loud, and clear. I actually jump a little and glance around, like someone might be standing next to me.

He cocks his head. “I know.”

“I’m just saying, I had no problem with Ivy coming over and asking me questions. I wanted to help.”

“I’m sure you did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh my god, Lucy, it means that I’m sure you did.” He’s amused now, and I’m startled to discover that I genuinely care whether or not he thinks I killed Savvy. How fucking annoying.

“Do you always think that people have nefarious intentions, or is it just me?” he asks.

“It’s just you,” I lie.

“I’m just saying, that if it were my child, and she’d just experienced a major trauma and a serious, life-threatening injury, I wouldn’t let anyone near her. I’d build her a pillow fort and guard the doorway. Even if she was a twenty-four-year-old woman claiming that it was fine.” He arches an eyebrow. “But that’s just me.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I look over at the teenager who is now furiously typing on his phone, tongue poking out one side of his mouth.

“Did you know that Beverly invited me to her birthday party?”

My attention snaps back to Ben, my lips turning up in amusement. “She failed to mention that.”

“Is it okay with you if I go?”

“It’s her party. You don’t need my permission.”

“I feel like I do.” He leans back in the booth, tossing his hair out of his eye with a sort of easy sexiness that makes me uncomfortable.

“Why? Is it against the rules to go to a birthday party with the family of the woman suspected of murdering the subject of your podcast? Are there podcaster ethics?”

“I don’t…” He cocks his head, like he’s considering. “It’s not against the rules. I’ve always considered the podcaster ethics to be the same as journalism ethics.”

“Sure.”

“I won’t go if it’ll make you uncomfortable.”

“You’re the one who’s going to be uncomfortable.”

“You think so?”

“My mom did not appreciate episode four, since you lightly implied she was a bad mom for letting Ivy talk to me and is also maybe involved somehow.”

“I have a high threshold for awkward.” That damn hair is in his eyes again.

My smile widens. “I believe that.”

“Does that mean I should go?”

“You absolutely should go. I suspect Grandma will be very disappointed if you’re not there.”

“You think so?” He looks flattered.

“Absolutely.”

“Okay then. I will be there tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait.”

“And we’re doing our first interview on Monday?”

“Our first interview? We’ve talked several times.”

“First interview where we really get into things. Your grandma said you’ll be here through next week?”

I let out a long sigh. “She did, did she?”

“Is that wrong?”

“No. She’s right.” She’d bought me a one-way ticket, which should have been a sign that she’d planned on my staying longer than she let on. I could book my own and hightail it out of here, but I’m invested now. I can’t stop thinking about what Grandma said—that Ben is actually going to figure this out.

I feel like I owe it to Savvy to stay until he does.

Not to mention that I have nothing to go back to. I’m still fired, my boyfriend is now my ex-boyfriend, and I’ve yet to sign a lease on a new apartment. I might as well be here, even if here makes me want to punch myself in the face.

“Good,” he says. “I’m starting this new thing next week, changing up the podcast format. I’ll be dropping a bunch of miniepisodes instead of just doing two a week, so we can get stuff out in real time. I think people are really going to like it.”

“Great,” I say dryly.

He cocks an eyebrow.

“Fine. Whatever. Monday,” I say. “First interview. I’ll be ready.”

“I’m always ready,” the voice sings. “Let’s fuck someone up!”