The Perfect Liar

by Debra Lynch

  I scampered out of my car and pulled the thumb drive from my pocket, taking one last look at it. Dennis had carefully written my name with the label maker and affixed it to the drive.

  Poor Dennis. Was he really that unimaginative that he’d label this for anyone to find so easily? And what if he’d actually invited me over to his charming abode? Did he plan on hiding his shrine inside the closet next to his black hipster skinny jeans? And what would he do with my used tampon if I came over? The thought caused me to gag. What kind of a sick person does that?

  A wave of disgust surged through me when I pictured the shrine—a gruesome testament to his undying love. He’d actually taken the time to cut Levi’s face out of a picture and replace it with his own. And the tampon. Jesus, I couldn’t even go there unless I wanted to throw up again.

  I set the thumb drive on the ground, found a large jagged rock, hoisted it over my head, and smashed the vile thing. My heart pumped hard as my arms came down over and over and over again. “Take that, you freakshow!” My hair swung and blew in the ocean breeze as I pummeled the thumb drive until it was unrecognizable.

  Finally, I tore the label bearing my name off the drive. Retrieving a hair tie from my backpack, I secured the thumb drive to the biggest rock I could find and hurled the whole disastrous mess into the swirling, angry ocean. It sank to the bottom of its watery grave, never to be seen again. Once the saltwater worked on the plastic and metal, it would be so far gone that even if it made its way to shore, it would be something a tourist would find. Probably take back home to Kansas as a souvenir of their California vacation.

  I gazed up at the stars. There was Orion’s Belt, there was the Big Dipper along with her Little Dipper companion.

  I remembered one night when Daddy and I sat on the front porch, the way we did so many evenings, knee to knee staring at the stars. “What if there was another planet exactly like ours,” Daddy had said. “With people just like us?”

  “You think there might be?” I had sat up straight and gazed at one star in particular, my eyes squinting in the inky darkness. “What if there was a copy of everything that’s here? Like the same people and stuff.”

  He had stroked my hair. “You mean we’d have twins?”

  My imagination had grown excited at the idea that I could have a carbon copy living on another planet. “Yes! Mine would be a movie star, and smart and could climb trees better than all the boys.”

  Daddy had smiled and squeezed my hand. “If I could choose, mine would be a lot different than this old guy.” He had huffed out a breath. “He’d make different choices, that’s for sure.”

  I’d scrunched up my face. “No. You’re smarter than any old Martian. You’re my daddy.”

  He had looked at his clasped hands. “I love you, pumpkin. But I know I can do better. I’d make sure his daughter had better. Better than I’m giving you.”

  I didn’t like it when he talked this way. I was getting a bit old for this, but I had awkwardly curled my arms around his neck and hugged my dad, inhaling his aftershave. “You give me good things, Daddy. You do,” I had whispered.

  Daddy was trying—saving money, planning his exit strategy. But I didn’t see why we needed to rush things. I had fun running our cons.

  When I climbed into the Tesla and checked my phone, there were about a zillion texts from Dennis wondering why I wasn’t in class.

  When I floated into my luxury home, the adrenaline buzz that surged through me made me nearly giddy. I planned to enjoy reliving every second of vandalizing Dennis’s house and the way I’d outsmarted the tarantula. I threw open the sliding glass doors with a flourish and nearly belted out the theme from The Sound of Music as I danced around the deck.

  I fell into my lounge chair and called Levi. “Hey, bestie.”

  A smile filled his voice. I imagined Levi standing in his gourmet kitchen chopping garlic for one of his world-famous plant-based Italian dishes. “You sound happy. What’s up?”

  “Nothing. Just wanted to tell you I love you.”

  “You been spiking your wheatgrass shots again?”

  “Nope. Just sitting here on this amazingly beautiful night thinking about how lucky I am.”

  Levi turned his music down. “Are you okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You just sound off. Like ultra-happy off. Kind of like when we drank ayahuasca.”

  A text came through from Dennis:

  Call me.

  Screw you, Dennis.

  And then another.

  Urgent.

  Then Dennis called, and I hit decline.

  “You still there?” Levi said.

  “What? Yes. Just … somebody else was calling.”

  “You need to take that?”

  “No.”

  At the sound of Levi’s voice, I felt a rush of protectiveness toward my best friend. Had I put Levi in danger by going ballistic in Dennis’s house? Now that I was home and the adrenaline rush was beginning to taper, the sinking realization dawned. I’d probably screwed up and done just that. But what was I supposed to do? Sit here and let a madman ruin our lives? Levi’s career would be affected as well if I ended up in jail.

  Should I confess everything to Levi now? No. I needed to deal with Dennis on my own.

  This past week and a half with Dennis had made me realize how lucky I was. I had my YouTube channel, I had my students, I had my beautiful life in Laguna Beach, I had Levi.

  And I had Madeline.

  Dennis would not ruin my life.

  I stood up and leaned over the deck railing, gazing at the swirling ocean crashing on the rocks below. When Dennis caught me shoplifting, it was nobody’s fault but my own. But the way he’d dug his talons into me had taken me by surprise. Let him marinade in the reality that Rachel Goodman was a force of nature he couldn’t control as he sat in his shitty little trashed rental.

  I hated Dennis.

  I despised everything about him.

  The way he looked at me like I was some kind of movie star whore. The way he invaded my nightmares with visions of his leering face. The way he’d inserted himself into my life. The way he’d tried to turn me against Levi. And oh god, the tampon.

  He would pay for the way he’d treated me, and I wanted nothing more than to watch him burn in hell.

  And I did love Levi. Levi had been by my side for years. He was a great listener, a fantastic business partner handling many of the marketing issues for the show that I wasn’t great with. He had picked me up when things had gotten especially tough doing it alone. He’d become my confidante, my yoga and meditation partner, even taking me to therapist’s appointments. He got me.

  The realization stopped me cold.

  I loved Levi.

  And he loved me. Scars and all. I wanted to change. I knew I could. I knew I kept a wall around the most sensitive part of myself, never letting anyone past a certain point. Levi had helped me to open up, he’d brought me out of my shell. That’s how I knew he was my bestie. If he would have me, I’d love to be his life partner. But something needed to happen first.

  I needed to deal with Dennis.

  Levi let out a low chuckle. “I love you, too, Rachel.”

  “So I’ll see you in the morning,” I said.

  “Bright and early.”

  I held the phone to my ear, and, determined to savor my antics of the night, I turned one whole revolution of happiness around the deck.

  I’d lied plenty in my life. I was the worst kind of liar. But I wasn’t lying when I told Levi how I felt about him. “I love you, love you, love you!”

  Telling Levi I loved him was not much, only words, but if Dennis came after me tonight, at least he’d know how I felt.

  He laughed one of his deep, sexy laughs. “After you put down whatever happy juice you’re drinking, get some rest. See you mañana, love.”

  My voice was shaky when I signed off. “Bye.”

  When we hung up I deleted the frantic texts Dennis had sen
t, blasted Beethoven’s ninth, poured myself a celebratory glass of an expensive cabernet, put my feet up and lifted my glass in a toast. “Screw you, Dennis Smith! And your thumb drive too.”

  Ten

  I woke to the roar of the waves crashing on the shore. Dennis hadn’t come after me last night; in fact, no new text messages from Freakshow, no more phone calls. Just radio silence.

  When a dream invaded my slumber, it was of Dennis rotting in the fetid darkness of a death row jail cell. In the dream, Dennis suffered an incurable form of brain cancer that slowly ate away at the grey matter causing tortuous agony. The best part of the dream was the Nurse Ratched lookalike. She shook her head at his misery, denied him painkillers. And then efficiently sawed both legs off in an unhurried manner until there was nothing left but jagged, bloody stumps as Dennis screamed in anguish. Now, if that’s not the stuff happy dreams are made of I don’t know what is.

  I lay in bed a few moments listening to the gulls shriek as the rush of vandalizing Dennis’s hovel surged through me.

  Dennis might retaliate, but I refused to think about that. I’d chew it over later. After the show, maybe. I finished my morning meditation, my vigorous sun salutation routine, and drank a strong cup of imported Columbian coffee. After showering I dressed in my fanciest yoga gear for the live recording of the show.

  I adorned my body with a beaded ankle bracelet, my polished rock necklace bearing the Om symbol, and a profusion of leather bracelets on my right wrist. That was when my eye picked up the handmade hemp bracelet that Dennis had given me. It lay in the corner of my bathroom counter where I’d angrily tossed it. On impulse, I slid the bracelet on my left wrist, thinking it would be a good omen, a way of proving that Dennis had no power over me. The hemp bracelet held no energetic field; it was nothing more than a bunch of twisted rope.

  “Knock, knock,” Levi said as he opened the front door.

  “Why even bother saying that if you’re just going to walk right in?”

  He held up the key I’d given him. “Used my key.”

  He sauntered in, and I felt an immense rush of love for my best friend and partner. His black T-shirt bearing the caption Namasté Bitches fit snugly over his chest, and his slim-fit yoga pants hugged all the right places.

  I skipped over and threw my arms around him, gripping tightly. I held on to Levi for so long the poor man probably had trouble breathing. My heart beat a steady rhythm as the warmth of his muscular body penetrated mine.

  He breathed into my ear and placed a soft kiss on the sensitive earlobe. His voice was deep and husky. “That’s some greeting.” He held me at arm’s length. “Was it your morning vinyasa or your strong coffee?”

  “Do I need a reason?”

  We settled ourselves in the video recording room and discussed our script for the special anniversary show. My palms grew sweaty as I broached the topic I thought we should tackle. “I’m thinking I’ll talk about my dad.”

  I’d shared with Levi many stories of life with my father. The harmless cons, the rare coin scam, how I’d perfected the art of smiling at grocery store clerks before shoving ready-made deli sandwiches into my Hello Kitty fanny pack.

  I wanted to talk about my father. Not because of the many therapists who told me I needed to work out my past. But because I simply could not live my entire life without coming to terms with what had happened—the way he died. Was I going to be truthful or not? Sometimes I felt like the world’s biggest phony. “The subscribers do love the inside scoop. You know, what really motivates us to share our love of yoga,” I said.

  Levi’s sea-green eyes sparkled. “I like it. A lot of them have written in wanting to know why you dedicate every show to your dad.”

  I laughed. “I don’t know about that. The letters I get are from the chicks who want to know if they can get a date with you.”

  Levi poised his pencil over our script. “How about we mention what you told me, the way he taught you to stand up tall, to start your own business, to be a strong female.”

  I waved my hand. “That all sounds so damn flowery. You know what’s made us popular.”

  “And what’s that?”

  I flicked my hair over my shoulder. “My brains and your hard body.”

  Levi laughed, and then his gaze strayed to my wrist. “Hey, where’d you get that?” He held my arm, inspecting the bracelet. “It’s cool.”

  I hastily removed the stupid going steady bracelet. “A fan sent it to me. Here. It’s yours.”

  He slid the token of Dennis’s unwavering love on his wrist and held it up to the light. “Thanks.”

  My ringtone pierced the room. “Shoot. Forgot to turn it off.”

  Dennis. I knew the freakshow would be far from happy. Determined to enjoy the sound of Dennis’s whiny voice, I held up my finger. “One sec. Be right back.”

  I strode into the living room. When I pressed accept, I heard Dennis’s frantic voice, and it was almost enough to make my day. What really would’ve made my day would be shearing Dennis’s skin with a sharp knife, tanning his hide and using it to make a funny hat. “Are you okay?” he said.

  “I’m fine.”

  “The teacher said you were out of it. Are you still sick?”

  “I’m better.”

  “Jesus. I was worried to death about you.” He blew out a breath into the phone. “You’ll never guess what happened to me.”

  His voice held just the right amount of panic. He didn’t have other copies, thank you, God. I relaxed, held up my hand and inspected my manicure. “What’s that?”

  “I got broken into.” By the way his voice bordered on hysterical I was convinced the freakshow didn’t have backups.

  “Oh my.” I made my voice as fake concerned as possible. “Did they steal anything? Anything at all, Dennis?”

  His voice dropped, and I could imagine him sitting in his vile little house or at work in his cramped office, head bowed. “Am I ever going to see you again?” His voice sounded so pathetic it sent chills of happiness up my spine. After driving myself crazy by convincing myself that Dennis had copies of the evidence, his defeated tone told me I was home free. Score!

  “You’ll see me in a few. My show goes live in three minutes.”

  “That’s not what I meant. As a friend, I mean.” Dennis sounded like he was about to cry, and hearing Dennis cry is what happiness means to me. I’d outsmarted him. Yasss!

  “Now Dennis. What do you think?”

  His words came out in a rush. “I think you forgot something very important about me.”

  “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

  “I’m in security.” The line went dead.

  Levi poked his head around the corner and pointed at his watch. “Two minutes.”

  My phone dinged a text from Dennis with a video attachment. I distractedly hit play, and when the video began, a cold sweat broke out all over my body.

  Holy… No, no, no! It can’t be!

  But it was.

  There I was for all the world to see looking like an actress in a B grade horror movie. The video captured me vandalizing Dennis’s house beyond recognition. I moved like a madwoman around the living room, crashing the bookcase to the ground, tearing pictures off the walls and smashing the glass over the cheap sofa. And the pièce de résistance, me reaching into my backpack for the red spray paint and angrily scrawling the words CREEPY HIPSTER across his living room wall.

  I sucked in a breath, my hand covering my mouth. Dammit! I had checked the entire house as I went to make sure there were no cameras. Dennis must’ve had some of those hidden cameras used by goddamn government spies. How could I have been so stupid?

  Rapidly following the video came a photo text. It was a picture of Madeline in her kitchen. She sat hunched over in her wheelchair, looking forlorn. The text said: I have much easier access to your life than you think.

  What the… A cold sweat broke out on my body, my heart pounding so hard I felt it in my gut, and the ringing in my ears reverb
erated louder than a hundred-ton bell.

  Levi trotted into the living room. “Come on, kiddo. One minute.”

  My smile artificial, I went into actress mode for the show. The sound of my heartbeat thrashing in my ears made it nearly impossible to hear Levi as he kidded around with the audience. My lips trembled when I plastered on a fake smile and laughed at his jokes. Tremors gripped my hands and fingers as I performed eagle pose—a complicated balancing posture. But all the while, the only thoughts that screamed in my head were, He’ll hurt Madeline. He’ll hurt Levi. He’ll come after me.

  I suffered through somehow until it was time for our sponsor break—a prerecorded advertisement from Yours Truly extolling the virtues of shopping at The Treasure Trove.

  I tore off my lapel mic and tossed it aside. I had to get to Dennis before he did something stupid. “Give me a sec,” I told Levi. “I need to make a quick call.”

  His face grew concerned. “Are you okay? You don’t look well.”

  “Fine. Be right back.” I sprinted out to the deck and slammed the sliding glass door behind me. Calm down, Rachel. You can deal with this. My heartbeat assaulted my ears as the vertigo hit. Quit being such a wuss and focus. I pulled up Dennis’s number.

  He answered with a low chuckle. “You’re not looking like yourself on the show today. Everything okay?”

  My voice came out rushed. “We need to talk. We can’t end it like this.”

  “You didn’t seem too interested in talking last night.”

  “I can explain.”

  “In fact you seemed intent on making sure you never talked to me again. Is that what you were thinking, Rachel?”

  “No! I—”

  “I thought we were friends. That’s what you told me, didn’t you?”