The Murder Podcast (A Short Story)

James took a seat at his desk, calmly leaning back in his chair as though it was just a normal, ordinary night and there wasn’t a man standing near the door of his den holding a .38-caliber revolver.

“Take a seat, Mr…” James started to say.

“Weston,” the armed man responded. “Matt Watson.”

“Please make yourself comfortable, Mr. Watson,” James said. “Can I call you Matt?”

Matt nodded and walked over to a worn couch on the far wall. Pushing up the glasses he wore on his thin, unshaven face, he scanned the room cautiously.

“There aren’t any weapons, if that’s what you’re worried about,” James told him. “And as luck would have it, I left my phone in the kitchen.”

James could see Matt studying him, trying to read his tone of voice and facial expressions.

“I have no reason to lie to you, Matt,” James said. “I am willing to cooperate fully and get out of here alive. You just need to tell me what you want. I should tell you, however, I don’t have a lot of money in the house or really anything of value.”

“I’m not here to rob you,” Matt told him in a voice that was a mix of anger and possibly outrage. “I don’t plan on hurting you either. I just figured you wouldn’t let me in and listen if I didn’t give you some incentive.”

“You have my attention,” James told him. “What is it you do want?”

“Your help,” Matt replied. “I need you to help me figure out who murdered me and my wife.”

James fought back the urge to smirk in amusement. His moderately successful true crime podcast, Midnight Mysteries, had resulted in Matt’s kind before, though the face-to-face visit to his home and the revolver were a new, scary twist.

“I’m sorry, Matt,” James finally said, choosing his words carefully. “I don’t know if I can do that. You look very much alive to me.”

James’ heart skipped a beat as an agitated Matt stood up and began to pace the floor.

“You don’t understand,” he said to himself multiple times. Then, reaching into his pocket, he fished out a cell phone and slammed it on the desk.

“Listen,” James told him before pressing a button. A second or two later, a familiar voice played.

“From all accounts, the plumber who lived at 1322 Evergreen Lane was a mild-mannered loving husband,” the voice said. “So, what drove him on that March 3rd, 2026, to murder his wife before taking his own life?”

The voice stopped and a confused James looked into Matt’s eyes.

“That’s you,” Matt told him.

James shook his head.

“It sounds like me,” he countered.

“No!” Matt shouted. “It is you! That’s all I was able to record but you state your name and the name of your podcast. It’s you talking about my wife and I dying.”

“I don’t understand,” James said, still managing to keep his voice calm even though he was growing more nervous.

“I don’t either,” Matt said, pointing his gun at the floor as he covered his face. “I just know it’s you and you’re talking about me. I live at 1322 Evergreen Lane.”

“But why would I do a podcast about you?” James asked. “You’re still alive and I am going to assume your wife is too, though I can’t verify that.”

“Didn’t you hear the date?” Matt replied. “It’s today’s date. According to you, or at least a future version of you, I supposedly am going to kill my wife and then myself tonight.”

A tear formed in one of Matt’s eyes and rolled down his cheek. He then set the gun on the desk. “Please help me.”

James’ first instinct was to grab the gun, flee the room and call the police but Matt’s desperate plea coupled with the podcaster’s own curiosity got the better of him and, pulling the gun to the opposite side of his desk, he stood up and walked around to put a hand on Matt’s shoulder.

“I’ll try,” James said, surprised at himself for promising as much. “I just need you to explain…well, everything to me.”

A couple minutes later, after James poured Matt a glass of bourbon to calm his nerves, he sat across from the formerly armed intruder as he began telling his story.

“I guess it’s best to start from the beginning,” Matt said. “You already know my name, where I live and what I do for a living. I am, at best, an average guy who makes a good wage and is married to a wonderful woman.”

“What’s your wife’s name?” James asked. “Sorry to interrupt, I just figured it would be worthwhile to know that for context.”

“Annabelle,” Matt replied. “Most people call her Annie though.”

“OK, I see,” James replied after a few seconds of silence. A thought entered his mind but he decided not to verbalize it.

“What I am going to say next sounds like something out of a science fiction story,” Matt said. “I promise you I am not making this up and I am not insane. Well, at least I don’t think I’m insane.”

“Go on,” James said, nodding his head reassuringly.

“I have an older pickup truck,” Matt said. “You saw it parked in your driveway. There aren’t a lot of fancy bells and whistles because I just need it to get me from point A to point B. All I have in it is a normal radio. No satellite, no CD player or anything like that. I usually listen to the local music station for some background noise.”

“I understand,” James replied.

“About a week ago, I was driving back from a job and the station cut out,” Matt said. “In its place was a podcast, your podcast. It was weird but I didn’t think too much about it until I heard my name and my address. I thought I was imagining things, especially when the podcast stopped and the music came back on. I figured I was getting tired and temporarily dozed off while waiting for the light to change. However, I heard it again the next day and the day after that.”

“But that’s impossible,” James said. “There’s no way my podcast would ever be broadcast on radio. I don’t even have a satellite radio agreement yet.”

James saw Matt’s glare and quickly apologized.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You did warn me. So, you heard my podcast over the radio and decided to record part of it.”

Matt nodded his head.

“I did that when Annie thought I should go see a shrink,” Matt said. “I had her sit in the truck with me multiple times, hoping she’d hear it too, but it never came on unless I was alone so I finally recorded what I could of it, just to prove to myself I did hear it.”

“It wasn’t a lot,” James said. “Fill me in on some of the details. Where did the murder suicide allegedly take place, for example. Was it at your house? What time of day?”

Matt shook his head, stood up and started pacing the floor again.

“That’s just it,” he said. “I don’t know. Or, at least I don’t remember. I am positive you gave all that information but I can’t recall any of it and that’s not at all like me. I have a memory like a steel trap. I can remember conversations verbatim from years ago but can’t remember what you said in the snippet of your podcast I heard this morning. There’s a fog there that won’t lift.”

He paused for a second.

“In fact, I can’t even remember how I got your address,” Matt said. “I just drove over here already knowing it.”

“I see,” James said. He wasn’t sure if he could believe what Matt was telling him, but he could tell the other man believed what he was saying. Plus, the recording was convincing.

“Where is your wife now?” James asked. "Is she safe?"

“She was at home packing when I left,” Matt replied. “I told her I didn’t want to risk us being together, so she is going to her sister’s house for a while. I just hope it doesn’t end up being permanent, though that would be preferable to what you said would happen.”

“So, it sounds to me like you already solved the problem,” James said.

“I’m not so certain I did,” Matt replied. “I heard your voice on my radio again on the way over here and nothing changed. I would think if I changed the future, your future podcast would change too.”

“I guess I can’t argue with that logic,” James conceded. “What does Annie think about all this?”

“I don’t know,” Matt replied, shrugging his shoulders. “I think she wants to believe me but I can’t blame her if she doesn’t. As I said, she wants me to see a shrink and probably thinks I just have voices in my head.”

“Even after she heard what you recorded?” James asked.

Matt shook his head.

“I didn’t play it for her,” he admitted. “I don’t know why. I guess I just didn’t want to get her all caught up in this madness too. She deserves better.”

“OK,” James said, gesturing to the other side of the couch and silently encouraging Matt to sit back down. The latter did, his body shaking with anxiety.

“Let’s put what you heard aside for now,” James said. “Tell me about you and Annie. How is your marriage?”

James briefly worried about what kind of reaction the already upset Matt would have to his personal question but the other man acted as though he had been expecting it.

“Happy, I think,” he replied with little thought. “As happy as a marriage can be at least.”

“Any recent issues?” James asked. “Anything that would, at least in theory, cause you to snap to the point you’d murder her?”

Matt thought for a few seconds.

“No,” he replied firmly. “There was one incident, about two months ago but it turned out to be nothing. She works at an advertising company, one that actually does a lot of business with influencers and podcasters like you in fact. Anyway, she had a stretch of nights where she was working really late, which was unusual for her, and I guess I let my imagination get the best of me.”

“What happened?” James asked.

“We had a fight, I made some accusations regarding one of her male coworkers I now regret but we eventually made up,” Matt said. “The irony was the coworker I had thought she was sleeping with didn’t even work there anymore. He took a new job in Florida and was 1,000 miles away.”

James started to say something then stopped after thinking it over. A second later, he asked another question.

“How about you?” James asked. “Are there any skeletons in your closet, anything that would cause a fight that could turn violent?”

“No!” Matt replied angrily. “I love my wife. I worship her. I can get jealous at times as a result of that but I would never intentionally do anything that would hurt her and I certainly wouldn’t kill her.”

“Even if she had been having an affair?” James asked.

“Even if she had been having an affair,” Matt replied. There was no doubt in his voice.

“I am choosing to believe you,” James told him. “However, I have investigated a lot of murders and you’d be surprised at how often someone did something they claimed they wouldn’t do.”

“I don’t know about them, but I wouldn’t harm her,” Matt said.

Matt removed his glasses, which had steamed up a bit, and wiped them on his sleeve. James thought carefully before continuing.

“OK, since we’ve established you could never kill Annie, let’s assume the murder/suicide was staged,” James said. “Do you have any theories about who could be behind it?”

Matt was quiet for some time before replying.

“I can’t think of anyone,” Matt said. “I’m not saying we don’t have enemies. I have a few ex-customers who weren’t happy with my work, even though I thought I did a fine job. Annie was recently promoted at work and I’m certain she had some co-workers who were upset they weren’t the ones who got the job. But mad to the point they would do something like that? No.”

“Maybe it was random,” James suggested. “A home break-in that went bad, for example. Have you noticed anyone unusual in the neighborhood?”

“There was a guy from the electric company a few days ago,” Matt said after some thought. “He claimed he was checking the meters and seemed legit. He had a company uniform and truck.”

“Anybody else?” James asked.

“We had a couple hang up calls on our home line,” Matt said. “It was a blocked number and might have been a telemarketer though. You know how those auto dialers are.”

Matt once again jumped up, this time walking over to the window and looking out at James’ yard.

“The thing is, I’m not convinced this happened at our house,” Matt said. “Especially now, with me here and Annie packing to leave. It’s hard to stage a murder/suicide when only one of us is in the room.”

Matt looked over at James just as the podcaster’s eyes lit up.

“What?” Matt asked. “What is it?”

“I just had a thought,” James said, unable to fight back the excitement in his voice. “What if it wasn’t a murder/suicide or even staged to look like one?”

“I don’t understand,” Matt said.

“You said you worship your wife,” James said. “What would you do if you went home and found her murdered.”

As Matt thought over the question, he grew shaky and ended up kneeling on the floor.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I can’t even imagine it. I don’t want to imagine it.”

“Would it be fair to say you would be distraught to the point you could take your own life?” James asked.

Matt didn’t answer. He just nodded his head.

“It wasn’t a murder/suicide or even a staged scene,” James concluded. “Annie was murdered by someone unknown. You found her body, decided you couldn’t live without her and then took your own life. The police, assessing the scene hours, maybe even days, after the fact just made a mistake.”

James then gasped as he and Matt had the same thought at the same time and the latter quickly rose to his feet..

“Oh my god!” Matt cried out, rushing over to James’ desk and retrieving his revolver. “She’s home by herself now. It might be happening now.”

As Matt hurried toward the front door, a panicked James thought about retrieving his phone and calling the police. However, as Matt started to leave, he stopped on the front porch and stared blindly into a pair of headlights from the red Toyota parked next to his truck. He recognized the car even before the lights turned off and the occupant stepped out.

“Matt?” Annie asked, her voice filled with surprise and confusion. “Why are you here?”

As his eyes, no longer blinded, adjusted to the dim light outside, he could see Annie was wearing a brand-new dress and her blonde hair and makeup were done in a way she usually only reserved for romantic date nights. Stepping closer, he could also see a look of horror in her blue eyes.

Then, as though a curtain was pulled to one side, his forgotten memories of the podcast flooded back to him at once, including the location of the violent, deadly event, 1500 Walnut Ave. 

It matched the address on James' mailbox.

Most importantly, he remembered James’ podcast confession.

“From all accounts, the plumber who lived at 1322 Evergreen Lane was a mild-mannered loving husband. So, what drove him on that March 3rd, 2026, to murder his wife before taking his own life? In a word, me.”

James had then gone on to explain how he met Annie over a cup of coffee as they negotiated a sponsorship arrangement. They later met for drinks and eventually began an affair that had temporarily cooled when Matt had begun to suspect but was rekindled with more caution when Matt incorrectly believed she was cheating with a coworker. She had planned, according to the podcast, to seek a divorce from Matt but because she did still care for her husband, was waiting until after his birthday to avoid ruining the day for him.

The confession ended with James apologizing for his involvement.

“I did not pull the trigger that left the once-happy couple dead in front of my house and according to my lawyer, broke no laws. I do and will always, however, feel responsible.”

Suddenly, James’ long pause when he heard Annie’s name made sense and Matt wondered if that was when the podcaster realized who he was or if he had known from the start and just pretended Matt was a complete stranger.

And he then realized it didn’t even begin to compare to the deception from his own wife.

Matt removed his glasses, which no longer worked because he could only see red as his body trembled with rage. Seconds later, he didn’t remember pulling the trigger on the revolver or even hearing the shot. He just saw Annie’s bloodied body in the driveway and felt James rushing past him as he ran toward the woman they both loved.

Matt didn’t know what force led him to be warned of his fate. He just knew he had been proven powerless to stop it. As he raised the gun one more time, aiming it at his broken heart, he no longer cared.

______________________________________________________________________

Here are some of my other short stories:

The Pizza Man (A Short Story)

Apollo Gets Adopted (A Short Story)

The Woman in the Self-Checkout Lane (A Short Story)