Page 1 of Hunting the Truth
Chapter One
Pinecone Junction, Colorado
Maya sat on the edge of her bed, soaked in sweat. A chill swept over her. Shivering, she stood and walked across her room, bare feet freezing on the cold floor, and grabbed an old Marine sweatshirt from her dresser. Socks too. The clock radio said it was 0400. When she lay back down, she didn’t pull the covers over her—she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep.
Juniper, Maya’s U.S. Forest Service law enforcement K-9, snored on the other side of the room in her crate, curled up in a little ball. The Malinois had become used to Maya waking up early or in the middle of the night and slept soundly through her nightmares. Part of Maya wanted to wake Juniper up and have her climb into bed with her, but she didn’t want to disturb the dog or start a bad habit she’d regret later—especially since Juniper was likely to shred the comforter.
Listening to Juniper’s snores, Maya turned on the lamp by her bed. She pulled a journal out of her nightstand and wrote down the details of the nightmare. Her Veterans Affairs therapist had recommended this exercise, but Maya also thought her memories could help her investigation. Her hands shook as she tried to scribble down the notes. Hopefully, she could decipher them later.
In the first part of my dream, I was camping with Nana and Mom. We ate s’mores and then played tag. Afterwards we all snuggled up in our sleeping bags. I was happy, content and felt safe. Then the second part of the dream began. The nightmare. I was back at the house where Mom and I lived. Mom was grabbing me by the shoulders and telling me to run and hide so the bad people wouldn’t find me. I remember being so scared as I went to the closet and concealed myself. Smoke started drifting in and I knew I was trapped. I was trying so hard not to cough and give away my location. I heard the gunshot that killed my mom. That memory startled me awake.
Maya closed her journal and put it back on her nightstand, her hand still shaking from the adrenaline the dream created. She picked up her cell phone and went to contacts and her favorite list, which only had two numbers—Pops, her grandfather and the local sheriff for Western River County, and Josh Colten, the chief deputy sheriff.
Josh had become a close friend. They had kissed, once. And since then, Maya had avoided ever kissing Josh again. Not that she didn’t want to. She just couldn’t trust herself to be in a relationship right now. She suspected Josh understood this and was being patient. That only drove Maya crazier because it proved he was a good guy. But it also made her wonder at times ifhehad decided they should just be friends. It was easier to not ask. She didn’t know which would be more difficult emotionally—a relationship or just remaining friends.
No matter what their status, Maya knew she could call Josh at any time if she needed something. She thought about doing that now but hesitated. Josh would help her sort through her nightmares, but it was four in the morning. Maya didn’t want to be that crazy girl who called at all hours.
She set her phone back down. Noticing that Juniper was now awake, she got off the bed and unlatched the crate door. Juniper came out stretching and yawning while Maya rubbed her ears and then massaged down her back. Juniper responded with a tail wag and little groan, making Maya smile. She didn’t know what she’d do without Juniper.
Juniper and Maya had completed their K-9 certification for the U.S. Forest Service over the summer, making them an official team. Maya was a U.S. Forest Service Law Enforcement officer for the Pino Grande National Forest in Colorado. She and Juniper had teamed up when Juniper’s first handler and Maya’s good friend, Doug, was killed. Maya had been resistant at first about the commitment of working another K-9, but now she was happy she’d accepted the job. She couldn’t ask for a better partner.
“Come on,” she said to Juniper. “If we’re going to be up this early, let’s at least get some coffee.”
Juniper grunted and followed her out to the kitchen. Maya worked on getting the coffee started. Juniper strolled over to the couch, her golden eyes glancing back to see if climbing up would be allowed.
“No, you stay off the couch. Your bed is over there,” Maya said, pointing to the dog bed in the middle of the living room. “You can go back to sleep there with your teddy bear. I know you’re not a morning dog.”
Juniper’s pointy ears drooped and she gave Maya a look that mixed pathetic with annoyed. Then she trudged over to her bed, lay down and stretched out. She gently picked up and held an old teddy bear in her mouth. It was the one toy Juniper hadn’t destroyed. Maya didn’t want Juniper to have too much freedom in the house—you didn’t want a working dog to enjoy staying home more than their job—but if she let Juniper go back to sleep, she could have a cup of coffee before they went for their walk in the chilly fall morning.
She turned around, staring across her kitchen, which opened to the living room. A large evidence board sat near the couch. When she had first started focusing on this new investigation, some of her nightmares from serving in Afghanistan had gone away, but they’d been replaced by new nightmares. This investigation was personal, and Maya desperately wanted answers.
Copies of crime scene photos and notes were pinned up. She had copied them from the homicide book along with all the reports to study during her free time. She’d never take the real pictures or reports home and compromise the investigation. In fact, she knew she had to work on this investigation on her own time, but luckily a good friend of hers was the investigator for the CBI—the Colorado Bureau of Investigation. Because of the family connections with this investigation, the state had taken over.
Her friend, Lucas Tucker, had shared what he could knowing it could get him into trouble if anyone found out, but he knew that she was intent on solving the crimes. It also helped that he was a fellow Marine and Maya had served with him in Afghanistan. Maya and her military K-9 Zinger had saved his life when Zinger found an IED before Lucas stepped on it. He always said he owed her. She didn’t really agree because she thought she was just doing her job, but she would take any and all information that Lucas would give her.
She had turned the pictures over, so she didn’t have to look at them. Seeing the photos of her loved ones would only trigger more nightmares.
But Maya knew what horrific sights lurked behind each photo. This was personal because the victims were her mother, Zoey, and her grandmother, Nana. Maya swore she would figure out who took them from her and why. She had reopened the investigation by looking into evidence Pops had marked and the CBI had gathered at the crime scenes. Even though Nana’s death appeared to be a suicide, a police officer treated every scene like a homicide and Pops had done just that. When he had arrived home and found Nana, he had secured the scene and made sure the evidence was not contaminated. Maya didn’t know how he had managed. Her grandfather was a strong man. She could barely stand to look at the pictures.
Packed in an evidence bag were cigarette butts that Pops found behind some trees the night Nana died. Trees were good spots to watch the intended victim while staying hidden. Someone had spied on Nana, but no one had investigated what Pops found. It didn’t matter if you were the sheriff. If the coroner and investigators thought it was a suicide, that’s what it was ruled and that was the end of the investigation. Only Pops and Maya were alike—Pops hadn’t given up. He couldn’t use department funding or deputies, but he had continued to investigate on his own. Maya started helping him a few months ago and she wanted DNA run on the cigarettes.
That’s when Maya found out Lucas had taken on a job with the CBI. She’d called him up and explained the situation. He had agreed to have the cigarettes tested for DNA before she’d left for certification in July. Now it was late September and the changing leaves outside only reminded Maya of how much time had passed with no results yet. She knew the lab was backlogged and cold cases didn’t receive priority, but she kept hoping that Lucas would call soon. If the cigarettes had matching DNA, then maybe the gun could be explained.
Maya, Pops and Josh had all gone through different scenarios with the gun. How had the same gun been used to kill Maya’s mother and Nana? Had Nana kept the gun all these years? Josh had even asked the difficult question that Maya and Pops didn’t want to think about—could Nana have killed Zoey?
Zoey had been found with a heroin needle in her arm and a gunshot wound to the head. The gun was never found—until Nana’s death. The same weapon had killed both. Investigators suspected that maybe Nana had killed Zoey, hidden the gun and then years later taken her own life out of guilt. Perhaps she was angry that her daughter was using drugs again and putting Maya in jeopardy.
But Maya and Pops’s answer was always no. No way would Nana do such a thing. And no way would she ever take her own life. It was frustrating at times because there were more questions than answers.
Hearing the coffeepot sputter and hiss as steam escaped, Maya opened a cabinet and went to grab a mug. As her hand touched the smooth handle, Juniper leapt off her dog bed, barking and growling. She hurtled herself over to the far window near the evidence board and pushed her nose against the glass, continuing her snarling and barking.
The mug fell to the floor, shattering into pieces.
Maya grabbed her shotgun that sat by the front door.
“Juniper. Come,” she ordered. She didn’t want the dog to be an easy target at the window. Juniper hesitated and then came over to Maya, who told her to heel and then immediately went to the back door in her bedroom. That door opened out to a porch and Maya made sure it was locked.
A tingle Maya acquired from being in Afghanistan and from her time as a law enforcement officer swept over her. The sensation came from someone watching you, and she had felt that a lot recently. Sometimes Juniper would bark. Other times she wouldn’t, making Maya wonder if she was paranoid and projecting her emotions onto her dog. Or maybe Juniper only saw rabbits outside and barked at those, but Maya didn’t want to disregard her instincts. Or her dog’s.
