Lies You Wanted to Hear Read Online Free PDF Page A

grassy bank. A man in a filthy hooded sweatshirt was throwing a Frisbee to a brindled mutt with a blue bandana tied around its neck. The dog was swift and agile with an uncanny sense of timing, his body arching and twisting as he leaped to make the catch. Sometimes the Frisbee would sail into the river and the dog would swim out and get it. Griffin went over and spoke to the guy, then came back for the leftovers. He took the bag to the water’s edge where the dog and the man shared the food. I stretched out on the grass and rested on one elbow. Griffin slipped off his blazer, and he and the man started taking turns throwing the Frisbee to the dog, the disc hovering at the top of its arc like a prop in a low-budget sci-fi movie, interplanetary orange with a purple outer ring. I lay back with my shoulder bag under my head. There was a drowsy hum of car wheels on Memorial Drive as I closed my eyes and thanked my lucky stars I wasn’t slogging through the museum with Amanda.
    When I awoke, the sun was sinking behind the stadium on the other side of the river. The man and his dog were gone, and so was Griffin. I stood up and brushed myself off, scouring the ground and my shoulder bag, hoping to find a note. A gust of wind made me shiver. As I reached up to refasten my hair comb, I felt the paper umbrella and removed it gingerly, careful not to tear the paper or break the fragile spokes. The umbrella was pink with a pattern of pale green bamboo shoots. I held the stem between my fingers, spinning it clockwise and counterclockwise as Griffin had done, trying to convince myself he’d gone off for a few minutes to make a phone call or buy a pack of cigarettes, but I knew he wasn’t coming back.

Chapter 4
    Matt
    Sandor spotted me talking to the maître d’ in the foyer of the restaurant.
    “Matyas!” He rushed over and wrapped me in a bear hug. “Where have you been, my friend? Every day I am thinking, Where is Matyas? Maybe I should call police.” He roared with laughter at his own joke. “Now, tell me, who is beautiful lady?”
    “Sandor, this is Lucy Thornhill. Lucy, Sandor Toth.”
    “ Enchanté .” He took her hands and kissed her on both cheeks. “Welcome to Café Budapest.”
    “Thank you,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”
    “You have known Matyas long time?” He put his arm around me.
    She smiled. “About fifteen minutes.”
    “Ah, let me tell you, this man, he save my life. Without him, I am lapcsánka .” Sandor laughed and slapped his palms together. “Potato pancake.”
    He led us to a table in back and pulled out a chair for Lucy. A busboy filled our water glasses and lit the candles. There was a single red rose in a slender vase on the table. I had never been to Europe, but the restaurant had an Old World feel to it. Not lavish, more about class than money. The kind of place you see in the movies where Ingrid Bergman walks in and spies an old lover across the room. Two waiters in tuxedos came to the table. One brought a plate of bread crusts and feta cheese spread. The other had a bottle of Dom Pérignon and three glasses. The waiter popped the cork and poured the champagne.
    Sandor held up his glass for a toast. “To good friends—and love.”
    When he left to attend to other customers, Lucy gave me a sly smile. “Jill didn’t tell me you were the lost dauphin of Hungary.”
    I made a face. “It’s embarrassing. He goes a little overboard sometimes.”
    “Is your real name Matyas?”
    “No, just Sandor’s way of pretending I’m Hungarian. He calls me ‘nephew’ sometimes, like I’m part of his family.”
    “How did you meet him? He said you saved his life.”
    “That’s debatable.”
    “Tell me. I love stories.”
    “Sandor was down in the theater district, picking up tickets for some show. The guy has a million connections. He’s always offering me seats to the Red Sox, Celtics, concerts, you name it. He parked his new Mercedes in an alley near the Wilbur and ran in