Page 18 of Chasing Justice
Stuffed in the safe were multiple stacks of cash.
Reaching down, she grabbed one of the wads. All hundred-dollar bills. She couldn’t see how much cash was down there, but if they were all hundred-dollar bills then there could be thousands of dollars. Damn. What the hell was going on? Maybe Doug didn’t trust banks anymore. But this amount? With their paychecks, not likely. Maybe this was an inheritance from Doug’s father who had died when they were kids. Or maybe the mystery girlfriend was loaded.
Maya set the money back and slid the board back into place, grabbed the dog crate, box with toys, pictures, and treats, and left. She locked the door behind her, wondering who else had a key and knew about Doug’s secret.
Chapter Twelve
The next day flew by, and around 5:00 p.m. the urge to have a beer overwhelmed Maya. She could go to the Black Bear and have a couple beers and then head home. That way she wouldn’t drink an entire twelve pack and would be able to get out of bed the next morning to pick up Juniper. Two or maybe three beers at the most, Maya promised herself. Plus, the bar would give her a place to think. She was still bothered by what she’d found at Doug’s house.
Since she was done with work, Maya changed into her civilian clothing. The Black Bear Café served breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and was also the local beer joint. The café, which had been open since Maya was a little girl, was constructed from large logs. The inside had western paintings and deer, elk, and moose head mounts, as well as other western-themed items. There was a wood carving out front of a black bear standing up on its hind legs. Maya patted the bear’s nose as she walked in.
The bar was in the back and looked like something out of the 1800s. Maya sat down on her stool. She’d heard through the small-town grapevine that her old sixth-grade teacher, Mr. Williams, was the bartender. She saw him down at the other end of the bar. His hair was now gray, but he had the same handlebar mustache that curled up on the ends. He always smiled. Maya couldn’t think of a time she’d seen him angry—even when they were misbehaving as kids.
Mr. Williams saw her and nodded in her direction while he finished up with another customer. Then he came over and put a small drink napkin in front of her. “Maya Thompson, good to see you. How have you been?”
Maya felt like she was back in sixth grade and needed to raise her hand before speaking or to order her beer. “Good, Mr. Williams. Nice to see you. Heard you retired from teaching.”
“Yep, coming up on two years now and started working here not long after. I needed to do something with my time other than drive my wife nuts.”
Maya laughed thinking of his stern yet softhearted wife who had taught math at the high school. “How is your wife?”
“She’s good. You should stop in sometime and see her. She’d like that. What can I get you to drink?”
Maya thought for a moment and then decided to be decadent. “I’ll have a Fat Tire.”
“You got it.” Mr. Williams paused and then said, “I was sorry to hear about Doug. I know you two were good friends.”
“Thanks,” Maya muttered, playing with her napkin. She didn’t want to talk about Doug. The entire day had been spent working on paperwork that had to do with the explosion and figuring out when she could go get an evaluation from a doctor.
Mr. Williams nodded and went over to the cooler, grabbing a bottle with the telltale Fat Tire label, took off the top and set it down on her napkin.
“If you need anything, anyone to talk to, let me know,” Mr. Williams said.
“I appreciate that. I guess things have changed a bit since I left,” Maya said.Everyone thinks talking will make things better, but it doesn’t. Or maybe I just can’t talk because who would understand?
“Only thing constant in life is change. Only thing that’s different is that you came back. Most people leave Pinecone Junction, and they don’t ever want to return.” Mr. Williams gave her a wink and headed to the other side of the bar to take care of another customer.
Maya let the cool, smooth liquid slide down her throat. She closed her eyes, enjoying the taste of the cold beer.
Someone stirred in the booth over to Maya’s right. Jenna Ray was drinking a Coors Light and staring at Maya. Maya turned her attention back to her beer bottle. She and Jenna had grown up together and were in the same grade. Nothing like a class reunion at the Black Bear with one of their teachers bartending.
Maya figured she and Jenna had the same idea—come into town to get away. Ranches around Pinecone Junction were spread out, but like cattle, everyone showed up at the same watering hole. Some of the ranchers came to socialize. Others—like Maya and, it seemed, Jenna—came to be alone with their thoughts and get away from the demands of their work.
Maya glanced at her again and noticed Jenna was still glaring at her. She and Jenna had been friends, and for a while they played together at school, but then they drifted apart. Jenna had started hanging out with a tougher crowd in high school and was one of the smokers and drinkers. Maya knew at that point that she wanted to join the Marines and that there was no time for smoking and drinking.
Of course, that changed.Maya took another swig of beer. One more and then she should be going, call it a night. But the truth was a night without more beer terrified her and meant nightmares would invade her sleep.
As Maya was lost in her thoughts, the door behind her opened and closed. She peered over her shoulder, not really liking the fact her back was to the door, but there was no other way to sit with the design of the bar. The person behind her was silhouetted with the sun shining through the door. They walked with a swagger and had a skinny stature. Not too different from the suspect from the explosion. Maya tried to look discreetly, but she locked eyes with the person and realized it was Cody Ray.
Cody Ray was an ass. There was no other way to put it. While Jenna had hung out with the tough crowd and been a partier, Maya knew that she was an okay person. Cody, though, had been obnoxious and mean. Maya had never liked him. She had caught him torturing a dog once, and had punched Cody out and saved the dog.
She should finish up her drink and get out of here.
But then Cody opened his mouth and said, “Who let the damn feds in here?”
Maya tightened her fingers around her beer bottle, the condensation making it slick. She worked to not make any eye contact. Ignore the jerk. Plus, as a federal employee, she had to get used to people saying obnoxious things. The Forest Service had made enemies over the years with grazing restrictions, logging restrictions and other forest management practices that people didn’t like. Cody’s father, Carson, had been on the losing side of those restrictions and there was a lot of animosity.
Maya went back to sipping her beer. Cody sauntered up to the bar and ordered a shot of cheap tequila. Mr. Williams brought the shot over and said, “Behave yourself, Cody.”
