Liar Read online

  Liar

  JAMIE CAMPBELL

  Copyright © 2014 Jamie Campbell

  Smashwords Edition

  Jamie Campbell asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.

  CHAPTER 1

  Everyone lies. Absolutely everybody. Anyone who says otherwise is most definitely a liar. Amelia Landau knew this better than anyone else and she hated it. In her ideal world everyone only had good intentions and they all only spoke the truth. But that was an utopia not within her reach.

  As Amelia finished making dinner and sat on the lounge next to her boyfriend, she tried to put lies out of her head. She just wanted a quiet evening so she could go to bed and get some peace.

  “Do we have to watch the news?” She groaned, reaching for the remote control. Lane grabbed it first, holding it just outside of her grasp. “That’s not fair.”

  “We’ll just watch the headlines and then you can turn it over.” Lane flashed the grin she had fallen for and returned his attention to the screen.

  Amelia knew he had no intention of turning it over after the headlines but she let it go anyway. She was always one for picking her battles and tonight was no exception. She had long run out of energy trying to fight with Lane. He was as good as he was ever going to get.

  “How was work today?” She asked, trying to make some conversation and distract herself from the television.

  “I’m working on an old Chevy, it’s in terrible condition but it still purrs like a kitten,” he replied, one eye still on the screen.

  Amelia nodded, knowing he was telling the truth. “Why do they want it restored?”

  “The guy just bought it. He said he’s wanted one forever but never found the right one. Until now, I guess. How was your day? Get any paper cuts?”

  She rolled her eyes, Lane thought her job was boring. Working as a public records clerk may seem snooze-worthy to everyone else but it was her dream job. She got to sit in a room all by herself every single working day. Nobody to hassle her, nobody to please, just her and the records. She did, however, get a nasty paper cut, damn Lane.

  “My day was fine, thank you very much.”

  “Hardly riveting though, is it?”

  “I don’t need riveting.”

  “Okay, okay.” He put his hands up as if she had just pulled a knife on him. “Don’t get your knickers in a knot.”

  “I perform a public service, someone has to do it,” Amelia said, using her usual excuse for working in such a mundane job. She was constantly defending her choices, even when they weren’t really choices after all.

  The newsreader rolled off the big stories, thankfully there were only a few political ones that night, they were the worst. Amelia could tolerate the rest but it wasn’t easy. She rarely watched television, but when she did, she preferred a good drama. Better to be involved in other people’s problems than her own.

  The leading headline of the day was an arrest in the murder that had shocked the entire country. A five year old boy had been found murdered just over a week ago.

  Initially the teary parents had been paraded about, begging for whoever had taken their baby to return him safely. They promised to pay a ransom and they promised to follow instructions. Whatever they could do to get their child back, they sobbed that they would do it.

  The search for little Jordan White had ended two days later when his body was discovered in a dumpster. Someone had thrown him away like he was rubbish and then just walked away. It was a horrible crime and had left everyone in the community shaken. Nobody believed something like that could happen in Scribe county. Except Amelia.

  “They’ve caught the devil. Good,” Lane murmured, more to himself than his girlfriend. “They should put him to death for killing that kid. Lunatic. You’d have to be crazy.”

  Amelia let him vent, she couldn’t disagree with him. The man they caught looked calm as he was hauled out of the car and paraded through the media into the police station. His hands were secured behind his back with handcuffs, there was no way they were going to let him have any liberties.

  The police commissioner filled the screen, his face grim as he tried not to puff his chest out too much. He lived for the moments in front of the cameras and all the times he could claim credit for the footwork done by his officers. He was a natural show pony. Amelia could see right through him, but only when he opened his mouth.

  “Today we have captured the man we believe is responsible for the death of Jordan White.” The commissioner flashed his pearly whites. “Forty-six year old Blake Turner is behind bars. You can all sleep better tonight thanks to the dedication of this unit.”

  The reporters started barraging him with questions, all of which he stood and answered. Not one opportunity for his own self promotion passed him by. If there was anything Commissioner Pace was good at, it was spin.

  “He’s such an idiot,” Amelia groaned.

  “He just caught a murderer, he can’t be that bad.” Lane shoved his last bite of dinner through his lips, talking with his mouth full. “I hope he rots in hell. Who kills a five year old? Seriously.”

  Amelia opened her mouth to speak but was cut off as the news went to some different footage. The commissioner had released some of the interrogation video. The black and white scenes showed two cops sitting either side of their alleged murderer.

  “Tell us you did it,” the cop on the right said, leaning forward to get into the face of the man. “We need to hear the truth about what you did to that boy.”

  As cool as a cucumber, the man crossed his arms and leaned back in his plastic seat. He seemed amused, he even had a smirk across his face. “All this fuss for little old me?”

  The cop on the left suddenly slammed his fist on the table, making Amelia jump. “Now! Tell us now!”

  “This is ridiculous,” Amelia said. “They shouldn’t even be showing us this. It must be horrible for the kid’s parents.”

  “Shh,” Lane cut her off.

  She turned back to the screen, the accused still grinning like he had all the secrets they wanted. “I did it. I killed the kid. How does that sound?”

  Amelia dropped her fork, it hit her plate and sent the whole thing crashing down to the floor. “Damn it.”

  “What’s wrong?” Lane asked as he tried to help her clean up the mess.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s obviously something, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. It’s okay if it’s that guy, he’s locked up, he’s not going to see daylight for a long time,” Lane soothed. He took both the plates and returned them to the kitchen. All Amelia could do was sit on the carpet and wait for her heart rate to slow down.

  “It’s not the right guy,” she finally said as he held out his hand to help her up. She accepted it gratefully, not letting him go until she was certain her legs would hold her up.

  “He confessed, it’s him,” Lane replied with a laugh in his voice, obviously skeptical.

  “He’s lying.”

  “Why don’t you just let the police do their job? I think they know what they’re doing.”

  Amelia shook her head, letting her shoulders fall as she stood straight up. There was no point arguing with him, he didn’t know how she could speak with such conviction and she wasn’t ready to explain it all to him. That would be a long and difficul
t conversation, one she never planned on even having if she could avoid it altogether.

  She carefully walked away, picking up her book and heading for the bedroom.

  “Where are you going?” Lane called after her, still a little perplexed. He was used to his girlfriend acting strange but it had been occurring more and more lately. He had long since stopped trying to figure her out, all women were a mystery to him anyway.

  “I’m going to bed to read,” she replied before firmly closing the door behind her.

  As Amelia settled into the queen bed, pulling the covers up to her chest, she tried to get the news report out of her mind. She needed to forget about it because if she told anyone else about the murderer being innocent, they would react even worse than Lane had. She would be a laughing stock.

  No-one ever understood Amelia and her special abilities, mainly because she had kept them a secret for her entire life. To her, they weren’t something special or something that made her better than everyone else. They were just there and they didn’t go away. Ever.

  It’s wasn’t even like she had some sexy super power like she could turn invisible or leap over tall buildings. All Amelia could do was hear the truth in every lie. It was a burden hearing what everyone tried not to say. The amount of people that lied was astonishing. From little white ones to major ones, she couldn’t escape them.

  The worst were the ones told to her by her family. Relationships were always difficult and she had never lasted this long in one before. Lane was the first man who ever told her the truth on their first date. He had been nervous and sweaty, which probably made his brain too frazzled to think up any good lies, but it didn’t matter. He earned himself a second date.

  Throughout her childhood, Amelia had thought everyone could hear things the way she did. When the teacher would stand at the front of the class and say ‘it’s so good to be here’, all Amelia could hear was I hate being here. She had looked around at the other six year olds, all smiling and carefree, and thought they were the strange ones.

  It only grew more difficult as she got older. Teenagers lied worse than politicians. She had lost all her friends, one by one, as they each found ways to hurt her. Eventually, she found it easier not having anyone close to her.

  Amelia closed the book and threw it onto the bed. It was no use, she couldn’t concentrate. All she could think of was the face of the murderer and how she had heard I didn’t do it when the words ‘I did it’ came out of his mouth.

  She had never been wrong before, never misheard. She could immediately rule out an error on her part. And there was no way to actually lie to her, she heard the truth no matter what the person did to cover themselves. Blake Turner, whoever he really was, did not kill little Jordan White.

  It wasn’t Blake she was so disturbed about, he had confessed for some unknown reason and got himself into the situation. What worried her the most was that the real murderer was still out there and nobody was looking for him anymore. With someone to take the fall for him, he would be able to get away with murder.

  What about if he kidnapped and killed another child? What about if he never stopped, the thrill of the kill giving him an unrivalled euphoria? Amelia couldn’t stand the thought, she would never be able to get over the guilt if she didn’t do something.

  But what could she do? Nobody would believe her and she didn’t have a good excuse for having the knowledge of his innocence. Damn it, that was the reason why she hated watching the news. If Lane had turned it over like she wanted, none of this would have happened.

  She would have to try and let the police know. Somehow, she had to make them listen. If it saved another poor child, then it would be worth it. At least she hoped so anyway.

  One restless night later and Amelia was no closer to coming up with a plan. Yet she walked into the police station with nothing but a need to tell someone the truth and make them listen.

  CHAPTER 2

  The first person Amelia had spoken to made her wait in an interview room by herself. She hadn’t given her the full story, just asked politely if there was someone she could talk to about the Jordan White murder. When she was looked at suspiciously, Amelia had just smiled sweetly, hoping her charms would win them over. It hadn’t, but they didn’t kick her out either.

  “Miss Landau?” Detective Leo Michaels entered the room, holding a notepad in one hand and juggling a cup of coffee in the other. He didn’t exactly instill her with confidence.

  With his light brown hair perfectly cut to suit his strong features, and his fit physique sitting nicely underneath his black suit, he wasn’t exactly bad to look at. The effect wasn’t lost on Amelia.

  “Thank you for speaking with me.” She held out her hand for him to shake. He had to put down his coffee to do it, wiping his hand first.

  “You said you had some new information about the White case?” Leo took a seat across the stainless steel table. It looked like the one from the news the previous night, but then again, they were probably all like that in the station.

  Amelia nodded. “You don’t have the right guy.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  Damn, she had hoped he wouldn’t get to that so quickly. “I just do.”

  Leo shifted in his seat, studying the woman and sizing her up. She didn’t look like the usual crazy person that came in offering new information that they got from the white noise on their television. She looked respectable, spoke nicely, and didn’t fidget. There was something in the way she conducted herself that he liked.

  But his instincts had been wrong before. “Look, I’m going to level with you, Blake Turner confessed to the murder so we’re going to need a lot more than your word to do something here. Do you have any evidence?”

  “Just keep investigating. I’m sure the truth will become clear.”

  “We can’t do that. We don’t have unlimited resources to keep looking for a killer when we have one sitting in our holding cells. I have a pile of files this high.” Leo indicated well above the table level. “They all need solving. I’m sorry Miss, but I can’t help you.”

  Amelia panicked. She hadn’t expected it to be easy, but she couldn’t get turned away. Not yet. “He’s innocent. At least of the murder anyway, he is still a liar. You have to believe me. What if the real killer does it to some other child?”

  “Then tell me how you know.”

  “I just know.”

  Leo had been down this path before, he could read between the lines. “So you’re psychic?”

  “Yes.” Amelia jumped on the explanation, it was as good of a lie as any. At least psychics were taken seriously… some of the time. She could be put in a little box and categorized. Her real ability had no label whatsoever.

  “So Turner’s innocence came to you, in what, a psychic flash or something?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Leo started nodding slowly, thinking it over. He had mixed experiences with psychics before. Some were great and specific, others were just time wasters. There was no way to verify their claims and some police officers outright refused to work with them. It was a gamble listening to the woman now, he could be finishing the paperwork on the White case instead.

  “You have to believe me,” Amelia said, unashamed of the pleading in her voice. If she left the station no better off than she had come in, she wouldn’t know what to do. She couldn’t just ignore the truth and shrug it off as having done all she could. Failure was not an option. The moment she got someone else to care about finding the real killer, the sooner she could pass the baton.

  “Have you worked with police before?” Leo asked, sighing.

  “No.”

  “Do you come from a long line of psychics?”

  “No.”

  “So how am I going to convince my boss to re-open the case?” Leo took a long sip of his coffee, letting her think about it. He hoped she would have an answer because he sure as hell didn’t.

  Amelia looked at the table. “I don’t know.”

>   “You’re asking for a lot here, Miss.”

  “Do you think I want to be doing this? I don’t want to have this burden of knowing,” she snapped, not meaning to and instantly regretting it.

  Leo decided to take a different tactic. “Did your psychic flash come with any clues about who could have murdered Jordan?”

  “No.”

  The silence was deafening between them and lingered painfully. Finally, Amelia stood, giving up. “I shouldn’t have come, I’m sorry. Just forget about it.”

  She walked toward the door, suddenly feeling stupid for even trying. If the roles were reversed and she was in the detective’s shoes, she wouldn’t believe her either. It was naïve to think her word would be enough.

  As she reached the door, Leo hurried to put his arm out to stop her. With his hand on the door handle, she froze.

  “I believe you,” Leo muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. She waited for the truth to be revealed in his lie, expecting any moment to hear I don’t believe you. But it never came. Either her abilities had suddenly evaporated into thin air, or he was telling the truth.

  “Are you serious?” She had to ask.

  “Yes, I believe you.”

  Still no lie. Amelia looked him in the eyes, making sure he wasn’t just kidding. But his green eyes were sincere, he really did believe what she was saying. That had to be a first.

  “Good,” she answered, speechless for anything more intelligent to say.

  “So how am I going to catch the real murderer?” Leo didn’t expect an answer, he was asking himself more than her. Already he was thinking of all the obstacles standing in his way. He was going to have to convince the boss, the media, the commissioner, and even the guy they had in the holding cell. It was like looking up at Mount Everest from the bottom and knowing you have to get to the top somehow.

  “Good luck with that.” Amelia tapped him on the arm, overjoyed at passing the burden to someone else. She could go home and forget about the case now, await the news story to say they had caught the real killer.