Excerpt of Chasing Justice by Kathleen Donnelly

Pino Grande National Forest—June

 A black truck with an old camper shell whipped around a switchback in the distance. Driving too fast for the dirt road, the vehicle fishtailed on the washboards. A plume of dust swirled behind it.

 Maya Thompson, a U.S. Forest Service Law Enforcement officer in training, sat in the passenger seat of the patrol Tahoe studying the truck speeding their way and debating if the driver might lose control. Her FTO, or field training officer, Doug Leyton, didn’t seem bothered about the vehicle careening toward them.

 As the truck flew by, it kicked up a rock that smacked the windshield and bounced off onto the dirt road. Maya startled, but Doug’s hands sat steady on the steering wheel, completely unfazed while her heart pounded. Nothing about rocks hitting windshields or trucks passing on dirt roads had been the same since returning home from Afghanistan.

 Give it some time, everyone said.

 Time healed everything.

 Maybe.

 Maya took a deep breath and pulled her long red hair back in a ponytail, securing it with a hair band. “How far out are we?”

 Doug shrugged. “Maybe another five minutes.”

 In the back of the SUV, Juniper lay on the seat specially designed for K-9s, with rubber mats and a vent for air-conditioning or heat depending on the time of year. With her eyes closed, the Malinois rode with the relaxation of an experienced veteran, despite being two years old and new to the job. A black fur mask crossed her face, mixed with a light brown coat over the rest of her body. A white spot splotched her chest.

 Juniper opened one golden eye, then closed it again, the picture of contentment.

 “Wish I could chill like that,” Maya said.

 “Me too. Although she’s not always like that at home. When she’s not working, she can be difficult.” Doug glanced at Maya. “How’ve you been doing?”

 “Fine.”

 “No, I mean, how are you really doing? You can tell me. I’m your best friend, right?”

 “Seriously, I’m fine. There’s no need to worry about me.”

 Maya turned her head to watch the trees passing by in a blur—a mixture of green and brown from the pine beetle kill over the last few years. The pine beetle was about the size of a grain of rice and native to Colorado. The beetle infestation had impacted over 3.4 million acres of forest. The trees had been dying before Maya left to join the military, but at that time, the damage wasn’t as widespread. Now she was back and the beautiful, lush forests she loved so much were partially dead, with trees cut up into slash piles waiting for winter snow to burn. The forest looked like Maya felt inside.