Page 15 of Chasing Justice
Chapter Nine
Maya drove up into the foothills toward Pinecone Junction, the small mountain community where she lived. But when she reached a picnic area, she pulled off the road and parked, letting her forehead rest against the steering wheel.
Maya couldn’t name all the emotions hitting her at once—anger, numbness, sadness. She supposed they all added up to what the counselor at the VA would call grief. She had tried one support group, but in the end she’d left. The counselor had attempted to talk her into staying, but Maya ignored her. A group of veterans telling their stories made things worse. Everyone had a sob story. That was the reality of war.
That was why she didn’t reenlist. She had thought at the time that discharging and coming back to Colorado was the answer, but if going home meant that more people she loved would die, then she was ready to escape. Problem was, she needed a job and she didn’t feel qualified for anything except what she was doing. If Doug hadn’t helped her out, then she’d probably be sitting in her cabin, drinking nonstop. She loved and owed Doug. And the only way she could think about paying him back was to figure out who had done this and why.
Then there was the promise of working Juniper. Doug knew that not everyone could handle a K-9. They were high-energy, high prey-drive dogs. The partnership you earned with one of these working dogs was hard to put into words. There was nothing else like it in the world. You became a team, feeling each other through the leash, communicating with each other from the slightest change in body language and trusting the dog to do their job.
Trust.
Could Maya trust herself to do her job? Could she keep a dog safe?
With Zinger, she had become cocky as a handler. Maya accidentally pulled him off a scent, which meant they had missed an IED. Zinger had turned around to go back and show her where the scent was. She had tripped and fallen. Somehow that trip saved her life, but Zinger rushed forward and the IED went off, killing him.
Maya closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the headrest. That night haunted her dreams. Sometimes she could only sleep three to four hours. The counselors at the VA had tried to give her meds to help her out, telling her that over time things would get better.
“You never get over PTSD, but you learn to manage it,” they had said.
Maya tried to believe them, but she couldn’t because the nightmares continued. If she drank enough beer, she could sometimes sleep. That was her way of managing.
Doug had helped her more than the counselors. He never asked too many questions. He’d take her out fishing and they’d sit there in silence. Occasionally Maya could talk to him, and eventually Doug coaxed her out of her shell. She found over time she could talk to him a little more and a little more until, somehow, she’d been able to function again. When there’d been an opening with the Forest Service for another law enforcement officer, Doug had talked her into it. She had the training. In the Marines to be a K-9 handler you also had to train and work as a military police officer.
Maya had hesitated at first, not sure if she wanted to get back into law enforcement, but Doug had told her that most of her days would be hiking in the woods, enforcing a few violations, and talking to people here and there. Nothing too dangerous. Maya needed to do something, so she’d accepted the job.
And now Doug was gone.
Maya sighed and put the vehicle in gear, feeling calm enough to drive. Before she could merge back onto the empty road her cell phone started ringing, lighting up the cab. Her boss, Todd Davis. Maya put the vehicle back in Park and answered. If she drove and talked, she would probably lose signal heading back to her place.
“Hello, sir.”
“Thompson. Glad I got you. How are you doing? You okay?”
Maya shrugged and said, “Honestly, with everything that happened today, sir, not great.”
“I understand. Dumb question.”
Maya liked her boss. Todd was relaxed and easy to talk to—something you didn’t always find in government bureaucracies. She didn’t see him much because he was the patrol captain and lived in Wyoming. Todd was in charge of six law enforcement officers in several national forests. Because he had so much on his plate, Maya and Doug checked in with him weekly by phone but only saw him about four times a year.
“I’ll get right to the point because I’m sure you’re tired and ready to go home. I’m officially ending your training. You’re now an officer. Congratulations. With that comes the fun of paperwork. I need your report about what happened ASAP. I’ll be coming into town the day after tomorrow. We can go over the investigation then. Also, I’m assigning you Leyton’s patrol vehicle.”
“Okay, I’ll start working on my statement tonight. And glad you’ve assigned me the patrol vehicle because I’m driving it.” Little things around the vehicle reminded Maya of Doug. His sunglasses were still clipped to the sunshade. The mirrors weren’t set in quite the right place for her. It was as if at any moment Doug would show up and get into the vehicle, like this nightmare had never happened. Instead, the end of Doug’s life would come down to a statement to be filed away while everyone else went on with their lives.
“Great, and one other thing. Since you have Leyton’s patrol vehicle, which is set up for a K-9, I would like you to be Juniper’s handler.”
“Excuse me, sir?” Maya said. She rubbed her forehead and sighed.
“I talked to the vet and it sounds like K-9 Juniper will make a full recovery and quickly. She’s going to need a handler. You have the experience, and I would like you to work her.”
“With all due respect, sir, I’m not sure I am the best person.” Maya knew she had made a promise to Doug, but her boss didn’t know that. She hesitated as guilt took over and then said, “But I could do a trial period with her. See how it goes. See if she’ll work with me.”
“I’m willing to give that a shot. How about a six-week trial period? Take her to work with you. Start some training with her. Honestly, Thompson, this is one of the reasons I hired you. You are a highly decorated K-9 handler and your CO from the military has nothing but great things to say about your ability. He said you’re one of the best, so I’m sure you will do fine.”
Maya didn’t know how to answer. Wouldn’t her commanding officer have said how she screwed up? She felt a giant headache coming on—something that could be solved with a cold beer can against her head. “I’ll take her on a six-week trial period. We can stay in touch about how she’s doing, but no guarantees.”
“Okay, I’ll get the paperwork going. I’m also thinking you should take some leave time.”
“What? Sir, with all due respect, I don’t need to take any time off. I’ve come home from being deployed. This isn’t my first rodeo.”
