Free Lie in Plain Sight by Maggie Barbieri

Heather was at the library before allowing things to go as far as they had.
    â€œI missed you.” She wriggled out from under him, grabbing her wine glass from the coffee table. “I have to be honest: I don’t really like Detective Chris Larsson.”
    â€œSometimes, I don’t like him either,” he said. “He’s kind of serious.”
    â€œAnd sort of scary.”
    â€œReally? Scary?” He seemed proud of that. “How so?”
    She wasn’t kidding. “Do you really want to go there?” They were having a nice time; did he really want to hear that she was disappointed in the way he had handled Judy’s lie, even if he didn’t immediately know that it wasn’t the truth? Did he want to know that what she expected in a partner was complete trust in what she said, a lone sexual encounter with her ex-husband notwithstanding?
    He touched his lips to hers. “I’m sorry. I sometimes forget that not everyone has deep, dark secrets.”
    She tried to hold his gaze, but she closed her eyes and kissed him instead so that she didn’t have to see herself reflected in his irises, telling herself that she was a liar, plain and simple, and he was the nicest guy any woman could ask for or even dream up.
    Outside, a car drove past, slowing and then stopping in front of her house. She didn’t need a crystal ball to tell her that it was Cal, checking up on her, letting her know that he was there but smart enough to know he would be unwelcome. She had her own part-time stalker, someone not industrious enough to put a lot of work into the task, using his baby’s bedtime as an excuse to get the little lad to sleep while finding out if his ex-wife was being visited by her boyfriend. She was sure she’d hear about that the next time they saw each other, which would be their meeting with Heather’s guidance counselor about college applications.
    â€œI’m hungry,” Chris said.
    In the kitchen, Maeve threw together a chicken salad, toasting some leftover bread that she had brought home from the store. After a few minutes, she plated two sandwiches and refilled their wine, the two of them sitting at her small kitchen table and eating in silence.
    â€œThis is a tough one,” Chris said finally.
    â€œI can only imagine.”
    â€œNot a lot goes on in this town, and that’s why I like it here.”
    â€œMe, too,” she said. “Another sandwich?”
    â€œNo,” he said, patting his stomach. “I’ve gained seven pounds since we started dating.”
    â€œThen my work here is done,” she said. “And by the way, I hadn’t noticed.”
    â€œWell, the guys at the station did. All I hear is how I’m getting fat since dating Maeve Conlon, the best baker this side of the Hudson.”
    â€œIs that what they call me?” she asked, blushing.
    â€œThat’s what I call you.” He pushed his plate away. “I’m amazed I can eat with this case. It’s horrible.”
    Maeve knew there were other details that she wasn’t privy to, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what they were. She also knew that seeing Trish Dvorak coming out of Cal’s house was not a good thing and was something she was going to keep to herself. “Anything? Any tips?”
    â€œWe get tips every day. She was here. She was there. ‘I saw her at the mall.’ ‘She was at the Bronx Zoo.’” He rubbed his big hands over his face. “Cases like this bring out the crazy.”
    Maeve took his plate and scraped it into the garbage can. “So what do you do?”
    â€œYou run them down,” he said. “And you call in County. Maybe the FBI. I don’t know. We can’t handle this, Maeve. As much as I’d like to think that the Farringville PD is capable of finding a missing girl, we’re not. We bag business owners selling booze to minors and chase speeders. We