Title: This Is How I Lied
Author: Heather Gudenkauf
Publisher: Park Row
Release Date: 12th May 2020
BLURB supplied by Harlequin Trade Publishing
Tough as nails and seven months pregnant, Detective
Maggie Kennedy-O’Keefe of Grotto PD, is dreading going on desk duty before
having the baby her and her husband so badly want. But when new evidence is
found in the 25-year-old cold case of her best friend’s murder that requires
the work of a desk jockey, Maggie jumps at the opportunity to be the one who
finally puts Eve Knox’s case to rest.
Maggie has her work cut out for her. Everyone close to
Eve is a suspect. There’s Nola, Eve’s little sister who’s always been a
little... off; Nick, Eve’s ex-boyfriend with a vicious temper; a Schwinn riding
drifter who blew in and out of Grotto; even Maggie’s husband Sean, who may have
known more about Eve’s last day than he’s letting on. As Maggie continues to
investigate, the case comes closer and closer to home, forcing her to confront
her own demons before she can find justice for Eve.
PURCHASE LINK
EXCERPT
Maggie Kennedy-O'Keefe
Monday, June 15, 2020
As I slide out of my unmarked police car my swollen
belly briefly gets wedged against the steering wheel. Sucking in my gut does
little good but I manage to move the seat back and squeeze past the wheel. I
swing my legs out the open door and glance furtively around the parking lot
behind the Grotto Police Department to see if anyone is watching.
Almost eight months pregnant with a girl and not at
my most graceful. I'm not crazy about the idea of one of my fellow officers
seeing me try to pry myself out of this tin can. The coast appears to be clear
so I begin the little ritual of rocking back and forth trying to build up
enough momentum to launch myself out of the driver's seat.
Once upright, I pause to catch my breath. The
morning dew is already sending up steam from the weeds growing out of the
cracked concrete. Sweating, I slowly make my way to the rear entrance of the
Old Gray Lady, the nickname for the building we're housed in. Built in the
early 1900s, the first floor consists of the lobby, the finger printing and
intake center, a community room, interview rooms and the jail. The second
floor, which once held the old jail is home to the squad room and offices. The
dank, dark basement holds a temperamental boiler and the department archives.
The Grotto Police Department has sixteen sworn
officers that includes the chief, two lieutenants, a K-9 patrol officer, nine
patrol officers, a school resource officer and two detectives. I'm detective
number two.
I grew up in Grotto, a small river town of about
ten thousand that sits among a circuitous cave system known as Grotto Caves
State Park, the most extensive in Iowa. Besides being a favorite destination
spot for families, hikers and spelunkers, Grotto is known for its high number
of family owned farms – a dying breed. My husband Shaun and I are part of that
breed – we own an apple orchard and tree farm.
"Pretty soon we're going to have to roll
you in," an irritatingly familiar voice calls out from behind me.
I don't bother turning around. "Francis, that
wasn't funny the first fifty times you said it and it still isn't," I say
as I scan my key card to let us in.
Behind me, Pete Francis, rookie officer and
all-around caveman grabs the door handle and in a rare show of chivalry opens
it so I can step through. "You know I'm just joking," Francis says
giving me the grin that all the young ladies in Grotto seem to find
irresistible but just gives me another reason to roll my eyes.
"With the wrong person, those kinds of jokes
will land you in sensitivity training," I remind him.
"Yeah, but you're not the wrong person,
right?" he says seriously, "You're cool with it?"
I wave to Peg behind the reception desk and stop at
the elevator and punch the number two button. The police department only has
two levels but I'm in no mood to climb up even one flight of stairs today.
"Do I look like I'm okay with it?" I ask him.
Francis scans me up and down. He takes in my brown
hair pulled back in a low bun, wayward curls springing out from all directions,
my eyes red from lack of sleep, my untucked shirt, the fabric stretched tight
against my round stomach, my sturdy shoes that I think are tied, but I can't
know for sure because I can't see over my boulder-sized belly.
"Sorry," he says appropriately contrite
and wisely decides to take the stairs rather than ride the elevator with me.
"You’re forgiven," I call after
him. As I step on the elevator to head up to my desk, I check my watch.
My appointment with the chief is at eight and though he didn't tell me what the
exact reason is for this meeting I think I can make a pretty good guess.
It can't be dictated as to when I have to go on
light duty, seven months into my pregnancy, but it's probably time. I'm
guessing that Chief Digby wants to talk with me about when I want to begin desk
duty or take my maternity leave. I get it.
It's time I start to take it easy. I’ve either been
the daughter of a cop or a cop my entire life but I’m more than ready to set it
aside for a while and give my attention, twenty-four-seven to the little being
inhabiting my uterus.
Shaun and I have been trying for a baby for a long,
long time. And thousands of dollars and dozens of procedures later, when we
finally found out we were pregnant, Shaun started calling her peanut because
the only thing I could eat for the first nine weeks without throwing up was
peanut butter sandwiches. The name stuck.
This baby is what we want more than anything in the
world but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I'm a little bit scared. I’m used
to toting around a sidearm not an infant.
The elevator door opens to a dark paneled
hallway lined with ten by sixteen framed photos of all the men who served as
police chief of Grotto over the years. I pass by eleven photos before I reach
the portrait of my father. Henry William Kennedy, 1995 - 2019, the
plaque reads.
While the other chiefs stare out from behind the
glass with serious expressions, my dad smiles showing his straight, white
teeth. He was so proud when he was named chief of police. We were all proud,
except maybe my older brother, Colin. God knows what Colin thought of it. As a
teenager he was pretty self-absorbed, but I guess I was too, especially after
my best friend died. I went off the rails for a while but here I am now. A
Grotto PD detective, following in my dad’s footsteps. I think he’s proud of me
too. At least when he remembers.
Last time I brought my dad back here to visit, we
walked down this long corridor and paused at his photo. For a minute I thought
he might make a joke, say something like, Hey, who's that good looking guy?
But he didn't say anything. Finding the right words is hard for him now.
Occasionally, his frustration bubbles over and he yells and sometimes even
throws things which is hard to watch. My father has always been a very gentle
man.
The next portrait in line is our current police
chief, Les Digby. No smile on his tough guy mug. He was hired a month ago,
taking over for Dexter Stroope who acted as the interim chief after my dad
retired. Les is about ten years older than I am, recently widowed with two teenage
sons. He previously worked for the Ransom Sheriff’s Office and I'm trying to
decide if I like him. Jury's still out.
Excerpted from This is How I Lied by Heather Gudenkauf, Copyright © 2020 by Heather Gudenkauf Published by Park Row Books
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Heather Gudenkauf is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of many books, including The Weight of Silence and These Things Hidden. Heather graduated
from the University of Iowa with a degree in elementary education, has spent
her career working with students of all ages. She lives in Iowa with her
husband, three children, and a very spoiled German Shorthaired Pointer named
Lolo. In her free time, Heather enjoys spending time with her family, reading,
hiking, and running.
AUTHOR LINKS
Twitter: @hgudenkauf
Instagram: @heathergudenkauf
Facebook: @HeatherGudenkaufAuthor
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