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Tim Matson lives with his wife Susan, and their two miniature schnauzers Asta and Archie, in a suburb of St. Paul, MN. When he isn’t toiling away at his day job, Tim spoils his wife and dogs mercilessly, and finds time to write when they take naps on the couch. His stories have been accepted at Mysterical-E and Futures Mystery Anthology Magazine. He is currently working on his second novel.

Liars by Tim Matson

He stubbed the last of the Marlboro in the black plastic ashtray on the bar, and looked up at the bartender and nodded. The bartender’s name was Chris, at least that’s what the name tag said, but Frank didn’t give a shit as long as he brought the whisky when called. He did. That little bit was all the attention Frank was going to give him. There were other things on Frank’s mind besides the skills of the bartender, and most of it was concentrated on the man sitting next to him.

His name was Billy. Or so he said. He claimed to be a salesman traveling through on his new route, but Frank didn’t really give a shit about that either.

“Did I tell you about this broad that I met in Omaha? Shee-it! Let me tell you what. This woman had a walk that was smooth as silk, ya know? Goddamn three inch vertical lift on each one of those finely tuned butt cheeks of hers. Came on to me in this little bar where their specialty was martinis. I bought her a couple those, and took her back to my room, and she tore me up, I’ll tell you what.”

Frank lit another cigarette, and listened to Billy go on about the woman with the three inch vertical lift. He knew that this was all bullshit, mind you, but the man told the stories so convincingly; there was a hypnotic cadence to his voice that kept Frank enthralled. Or at least entertained. He highly doubted such a beautiful woman would tear Billy up. One look at him would tell you the chances were low. Overweight, balding, and with that awful comb over that some guys do when they’re losing their hair. He had on a plaid sport jacket that was having a hard time covering his impressive gut, and white gabardine slacks with matching shoes. Predictably, the shoes were slip-ons, with a brass buckle across the top. His fleshy nose was red and veined from drinking in too many bars like the one that they both sat in tonight. Horse teeth and jug ears with hair poking out of them completed the sad picture, making Frank think that the last time this guy got laid, it was with his wife. And that wasn’t too damn often, either.

But man, this guy could talk. His accent was a cross between Texas drawl and Mississippi mud and he was a born salesman, through and through. He asked Frank all the right questions, sizing him up and finding out a lot in a short space of time. Certainly enough to know that Frank would be the kind of guy to sit here with him and listen to all of his blather, and make him feel like he was closing the biggest deal of his life.

Frank didn’t mind. He found it all...engrossing.

“Frank? You don’t mind if I call you Frank? No, of course you don’t. I asked that once already, didn’t I?” He smiled that toothy smile of his. Put a diamond on one of those front choppers and he could be a white rap star.

“Did I tell you about the time I was in the war? Nam, of course. I was a little too young for Korea. HQ command wanted me to ferret out some tough VC bastards that no one else could seem to get to, and I’ll tell you what, I went right into that general and told him what I needed to get the job done. This is good stuff; wait ‘till you hear this...”

Frank sat back and listened, only looking away from him to motion to Chris the bartender to pour some more drinks.

“I ended up getting twenty seven of those little fuckers. Two of them I killed with my bare hands, I’ll tell you what. That was one tough day. Got a medal for that. ‘Course they couldn’t really give it to me, being as I was part of the black ops crew. Hell, we didn’t even officially exist according to the books. We got paid off in cash. I don’t know where or how they did that, but you know the government, they can do anything if they want with nobody the wiser, I’ll tell you what.”

Frank sat back and nodded at Billy, fascinated. How could one person have so much bullshit locked up inside, ready to pull it out at a moments notice to use on some poor unsuspecting soul? And this man killed another human being? Frank doubted it, but he had seen some strange things in his time. He took another drag off his smoke and thought while he listened to Billy blather on. When he stopped to take a drink, and maybe to get some air, Frank spoke.

“That’s very exciting, Billy. You really killed those men?”

Billy gaped at him. “Well, hell, we had to. It was the war, ya know? Not that I had a problem with killing, no sirree. A man has to do what a man has to do.”

Frank thought he actually saw his chest puff with this false pride, but it could have been the tasteless jacket creating an optical illusion.

Frank lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Have you killed anybody else, Billy?”

Billy’s eyes darted to and fro for a second, and then he slowly turned his gaze to Frank. “Why do you ask?”

Frank forced an easy smile. “Well, Billy, you’re a man of the world. I can tell you know how the world needs to be run. If you and I had our way, there would be a lot less problems, don’t you think?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well...you know. All those people out there just sitting on the welfare system, dealing drugs, using drugs. They’re just a waste compared to a patriot like you.”

As Billy’s face lit up, Frank knew he had scored a direct hit.

“I’ll tell you what, my friend, there’s something that every American should do something about. These people don’t want to do a lick of work and still be paid for it. How’s that right and good?”

Frank nodded his head. “I’m with you all the way, Billy. Something ought to be done.”

Billy looked at Frank’s face, looked around very quickly to see if anybody could overhear, and said very softly, “Now Frank, I don’t know you, but you look like a man I can trust.”

“Well hell yes, Billy. We’re kindred souls, you and I.”

Billy beamed. “Yes! That’s it! Kindred souls. I couldn’t have put it better myself.” He glanced over to Chris the bartender, who was watching a baseball game on the TV. “Boy. The stories I could tell you.”

“You’ve been telling me some great stories for the last hour and a half, Billy.”

“Yeah, but...”

“I’ll tell you what, Billy. Let me tell you a story.” His face was somber as he spoke. “I gotta trust you to keep your mouth shut on this.”

Billy nodded his head vigorously. “Well hell yes, I’ll tell you what.”

“This story is from an acquaintance of mine, if you know what I mean.”

Billy winked at him. “Hell yes.”

Frank lit another cigarette, and leaned in a little closer to Billy. “This friend of mine was fighting the good fight, working at his job with the telephone company, paying his bills, trying to take care of his family. One day he was working downtown. There was a loss of phone service to an entire block, and he was sent down there to fix the problem. This was a bad part of town. Hookers, drug dealers, and all kinds of lowlifes seemed to be compacted into this small section of town. Of course, he got hassled by all those bad elements just for doing his job! Well, a gang of these pieces of shit caught him in an alley where there was a junction box, and they beat him to within an inch of his life.”

He paused and took a sip of his whisky. Billy was hanging on his every word.

“He almost died. In the hospital for three months, healing up. The van he drove out there? They burned it right to the ground.” He looked up at Billy. “Now that wasn’t right, was it?”

Billy was aghast. “Jesus Christ. Hell no, Frank, hell no, I’ll tell you what.”

“So when my friend was all healed up, he went looking for this gang.” He stubbed out the smoke, and quickly lit another. “You see, the cops wouldn’t do anything. They never caught the guys. They always said they had some leads, but they really didn’t have anything.”

Billy’s eyes were round with wonder. “Christ on a biscuit. What happened?”

“Well, he found the people responsible, and he took the law into his own hands.” Frank paused, and let it sink in. “He killed each and every one of them. Shot them cold as a stone.”

Billy stared, his jaw actually open in amazement. “I’ll tell you what!”

Frank smiled, and said, “Now you know why I asked you to keep it under your hat.”

“Of course I will! I’d consider it my duty as an American. That element has gotten way out of hand; they need to be thinned out a little.”

Frank held up two fingers at Chris the bartender. Both men fell silent until the drinks were in front of them, and Chris had his eyes back on the game.

Billy picked at the cocktail napkin in front of him, soggy now with the condensation from several drinks. “Frank...I had a situation sort of similar to that. I...uh...I’ve killed plenty of people in the war, ya know,” he repeated. His eyes asked for sympathy to this lie. Frank obliged with a nod and a small, lipless smile.

“There was this one time...I tell you what....it was bad, Frank, really bad.”

Frank laid a hand softly on Billy’s sport jacket. “Go ahead, Billy. You’re in good company.”

Billy nodded, pulled a white handkerchief out of his breast pocket, and mopped his gleaming brow. “It wasn’t very long ago,” he started. “I was in, well, it doesn’t really matter where I was.”

He turned to take a swallow from his drink. It mattered to Frank where he was, but all things in good time.

“I’ll tell you what, it was a scary situation for me. I was having a couple of drinks in this out of the way little college bar, just kinda minding my own business, when I caught the eye of this little black haired beauty. Boy o’ boy, I’ll tell you what, she had it all and it was all in the right places.”

Frank nodded at him, keeping him on a roll. But there was a minute of silence as Billy turned away from him. When he began to talk again, he spoke to the glass of scotch in front of him, as if the confession was too painful to bring to light in front of another human being. His eyes became vacant as he carried on.

“I bought her a couple of drinks--just being friendly, ya know. She was celebrating passing some big test. You know how these college girls look. They all like to go wild. This one, her name was Rose something, she...she started out being so nice. Then things got a little out of hand.” He shook his head. “Something about her. Hoo boy, I lost my mind.” He looked back at Frank, his eyes blazing. “She was just stringing me along, Frank! Just teasing me and using me! You know what I mean, don’t you?”

Frank nodded his head. “I sure do, Billy. These women, they dress all sexy and the like, and then they bring you right up to the top and let you off.”

Billy’s face looked as if he had just found a long-lost friend. “Yes! Yes! You do know what I mean!” He turned back to the glass, shaking his head gently. “She tore up inside, Frank. My motor was revved, and she just laughed at me. Damn! She shoulda just told me she wasn’t interested, but she kept teasing me and letting me buy her drinks.”

“I know, Billy, I know,” Frank murmured softly.

“Embarrassed me in front of all those people. Her friends! It wasn’t right.”

“What happened, Billy?”

“I waited outside, and...”

Frank nodded gently, waiting.

Billy’s voice dropped down to a whisper. “Dumb bitch. She shoulda known better than to...do that to me.”

“That’s the problem, Billy. They never think about anything but themselves.”

“No, they don’t,” Billy growled.

“What happened, Billy?”

“I...hit her as she was coming out of the bar. Stuffed her in the trunk of my car.”

Frank asked the question. "What did you hit her with?"

“I carry a little wood persuader when I’m traveling. For my own safety.”

Billy lifted the glass in front of him and pulled the soggy napkin off the bar and began to tear it up in little chunks. “There was no one around; she came out all by herself. Stupid bitch.”

“That was stupid, all right. What did you do then?”

“I...I...took her out along this dirt road, way the hell out in the middle of nowhere.” He looked up at Frank again, tears filling his eyes. “I was so mad, Frank. I was so goddamn pissed off.”

Frank made a sympathetic noise.

Billy took in a deep breath, and let it out like a steam valve. Anger sounded through the tears. “I gave her what she had coming. She deserved it. Every minute of it.”

“Sure, she did. You can’t let them get away with that shit, Billy.” Frank paused. “Did she struggle a lot?”

Billy had found another napkin, and was tearing it into thin strips. “Couldn’t. I tied her up good and wrapped duct tape around her mouth. I didn’t want to hear one more lie from that bitch.”

Both men took a drink and thought about it.

“Did you kill her, Billy?”

Billy looked at Frank from under his bushy eyebrows. “I had to, Frank. There wasn’t anything else I could do.”

Frank nodded slowly. “You’re right, Billy. Nothing else you could do.”

“You gonna judge me on this, Frank?”

Frank widened his eyes. “Me? Hell no, Billy! I think you did the right thing.” He sighed. “You can’t let them get away with that shit. It ain’t right.”

“Thanks, Frank. That makes me feel better.”

“Hey, we’re two of a kind, remember?”

Billy grinned at him, then wiped his eyes and blew his nose with another bar napkin. “It felt good to tell someone, you know?”

“I understand more than you will ever know.” Frank looked at his watch, and placed a hand on Billy’s sleeve. “Hey Billy? After all this confessional, I’m getting pretty damn hungry. What say we go get something to eat? I know this little place down the road makes a great steak. You’re driving, and I’m buying.”

Billy’s face brightened. “I’ll tell you what! That’s a great idea!”

He tossed some bills on the bar, and the two men made their way to the exit. Billy led Frank to his white Cadillac, and both men got in.

“Nice car.”

“I love it. Got a ride that’s smooth as silk. Now, where’s this place you’re talking about?”

“Just down the road. Hey. Let me ask you a question.”

“Yeah, sure, anything.”

“Do you still feel bad about killing that girl?”

Billy waved his hand. “Not so much anymore, thanks to you.”

“That’s too bad,” Frank said as he pulled out the gun.

Billy’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the automatic. “What the hell?”

Frank’s eyes never left his face. “You picked the wrong girl to kill, Billy.”

“Wait a damn second! I thought you understood!”

“I lied,” Frank said, as he pulled the trigger.

After he wiped his fingerprints off of the door handle, Frank walked back to his car. When he was a few miles away, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number, waited for an answer, and spoke. “It’s done.”

There was the sound of a long breath pulled in and let out. “You sure you got the right guy?”

“I’m sure. Yes. He was the one that...hurt Rose Marie.”

There was a long silence, long enough that Frank was just about to ask if he was still there, when the voice said, “Thank you. I knew I could count on you.” Another pause. “I shouldn’t ask. I never have before. But...”

Frank waited for it.

“But because this is...”

There was more silence until anguish filled Frank’s ear. “That animal raped and killed my daughter.”

Frank kept quiet as the hatred and pain subsided.

“I want to know...how you did it,” the voice asked.

Frank thought about it for some time before he spoke. “It’s about sales. I did my research, and told him what he wanted to hear. I gave him the pitch, and he bought the product.”

There was a grunt on the other side. “You’re right. I don’t need to know details. You coming home?”

“Yeah, boss.”

“Good. My wife will want to thank you in person, so come out to the house for dinner when you get back.”

“Thank you.”

“No. Thank you. I’m glad we could keep this in the family. There’s a bonus for this one, Frank.”

“Like I said before, no. This was my pleasure.”

There was another grunt, and the line went dead. Frank snapped his phone closed, and said to the road in front of him, “This time, it was.”

THE END