“So the last time you saw her was right before we spoke last night?” “Yes,” Maeve said. “She texted me that she was staying at her father’s, but she never showed up.” Cal was sitting at the counter, his head in his hands. Maeve picked up the baby and fed him a cookie to keep him quiet, knowing that sugar was not on the list of approved ingredients that the child could eat and not caring. “What do we do, Chris?” she asked. “Leave it to us, Maeve,” he said, and while she knew that that was the answer he had to give, she wasn’t confident that it was her best choice. After they left, Chris taking his two uniformed colleagues with him, Cal departed with the baby, now wailing lustily, in need of a nap or organic baby food. Maeve texted Jo, telling her the store would be closed for the rest of the day, but not telling her why. Then she texted Poole. His response was short. See you at your house. And then, as she arrived, running through the front door and screaming Heather’s name, Don’t touch anything.
