LIAR, LIAR by Gary R. Hoffman

“You understand this interview is being recorded?”

The man nodded.

“The recorder can’t hear your head nod. You’ll have to answer out loud. So, I’ll ask again. Do you understand this interview is being recorded?”


“Have you been read the Miranda Rights and do you understand them?”


“Let the record show that I’m Detective James Bailey of the Athens, Georgia Police Department.   Detective Lisa Sweetwater, of the same department, is also present. Would you state your name, sir?”

“Bob Myer.”

“Is your full name Robert Benjamin Myer?”

“Yes, it is.”

“How old are you, Mr. Myer?”


“What’s your wife’s name?”

“Never married.”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“A brother.”

“What’s his name?”


“Tyler Myer?  Tyler Myer.  Where have I heard that name?” Lisa asked.

“He had a television show on for a while out of Mobile. Afternoon talk show.  Got canceled after a couple of years.”

“Oh, yeah. I was sorry to see it go. I thought he had some pretty interesting guests.”

Bailey continued. “Where were you born?”

“Atlanta, Georgia.”

“And where do you live now?”

“Lake City, Florida.”

“Where were you headed when we pulled you over?”

“I was on my way to find a job.”

“And where was this job?”


“Montgomery, Alabama?”

“Yes, sir.”

Bailey shook his head. “Do you know why we arrested you?”

“You said I held up a liquor store and shot the guy workin’ there, but that’s not true.”

“Can you tell us why you are in Athens?”

The man paused.  “I got lost.”

“Lost? You just said you were headed for Montgomery, Alabama. This is quite a ways out of the way if you were going there.” He looked at Lisa and grinned. She looked at the floor.

Myer shrugged.

“Didn’t you realize something was wrong when you crossed into Georgia from Florida?”

“Guess not.”

“Didn’t you see a sign welcoming you to Georgia?”

“I musta missed it.”

“It’s a big sign.”

“Still didn’t see it.”

“Were you driving while you were asleep?”

“I was probably concentratin’ on the highway.”

“What if I told you we have surveillance tape from the KB Liquor Store on Broadway here in Athens that shows you entering the store, shooting the clerk, and then emptying the cash register?”

Myer thought for a few seconds. “I’d say you’re mistaken. It must be someone who looks like me.  I never been in that place.”

“Let’s get back to this job you were headed to Montgomery to take. What kind of job was it?”

“It was workin’ for a highway construction crew. Running heavy equipment.”

“Well, it does seem like there’s always road construction going on somewhere around Montgomery, but running heavy equipment? That takes some pretty good training. You ever do anything like that before?”

“Oh, yeah. Worked for my brother-in-law’s construction company for three years. We built roads, railroad spurs, excavated land, put in lakes. All sorts of things. And all over the place.”

“You realize this is easy to check on? All we have to do is get in touch with him.”

“Well, it was a really good job until he got killed in a construction accident. Then the company fell apart. Nobody could run it like ole Ralph could.”

“How long ago was this?”

“I’d say about six months.”

“And where was this ‘accident’?”

“South America. Brazil, I think.”


“Yeah, I think so.”

“You think?”

“Well, we was in a lot of countries. Yeah, I’m pretty sure it was Brazil. I know it was July, and it was cold there.”

“You know, Bob, when a person lies to me about one thing, I figure they probably lied to me about a lot of other things. I’m going to arrest you and hold you for robbing the KB Liquor Store and shooting the clerk. You’ll be a guest of Georgia for a long time, but I doubt if they’ll let you drive any heavy equipment.”

“I didn’t lie about nothin’!  And you can’t prove I did.”

“Well, I got one real important question for you. If you aren’t lying, how can you have a brother-in-law if you were never married and don’t have a sister?”

Bob got a stupid grin on his face. “Does seem kind of peculiar, doesn’t it?”

Detective Bailey threw his pen on the table. “Get this lying piece of crap out of here. Charge him with murder and armed robbery.”

After living in a motor home for fourteen years, Gary R. Hoffman has settled down in Okeechobee, Florida.  He taught school for twenty-two years before getting tired of that rat race and quitting to go into business for himself.  Been writing and publishing over 400 short stories ever since.

Copyright © 2016 Gary R. Hoffman. All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or in part in any form or medium without express written permission of the author is prohibited. 

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