Hunters

By Heather Mace

Officer Monica Martinez suspects that a string of murders in and around San Antonio are related. Though she knows that she should leave it to the homicide detectives to solve the case, her instincts tell her that there is more to the mystery than the detectives realize. Monica is unable to let it go, even if it means jeopardizing her career, and possibly even her life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heather Mace
• Release date: May 17, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311774378

Heather Mace

I started writing in my early teens because I had already read all of the YA fiction that interested me. (This was way back in the dark ages before the likes of Harry Potter.) I wrote not about the things I had done, but about the things I wanted to do. I got older, experienced more life, and discovered a world of fiction written for adults. Even though my desire to read was being fulfilled, I never lost the desire to write. I eventually went to college and got a Bachelors degree in psychology. I have always been fascinated by human behavior and was pleased to be able to indulge that fascination until it resulted in a degree. No matter what I have learned, what I have done, or where life has taken me, I have always returned to writing. As I looked back on this decades long hobby, I asked myself why I was still waiting to publish my work. So, here I am. I hope you find something in my stories that you enjoy!

Book preview

Hunters

By Heather Mace

Copyright 2016 Heather Mace

Smashwords Edition

Licensing Notes

Smashwords Edition

Thank you for downloading this ebook.

This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer.

Thank you for your support.

This is a work of fiction.

Characters, places, and events in this story are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any similarities to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Acknowledgements

Thank you to Jeanette Flores Campbell for constant advice on grammar and apostrophes.

Any remaining mistakes are entirely my fault.

Contents

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

About the Author

Other Titles by Heather Mace

Connect with Heather Mace

1

Every waking moment since the attack, Jen had been jumpy and nervous. And on the rare occasion that she slept, she was plagued by nightmares. Despite advice from her doctors, she refused medication to calm her nerves, or induce sleep. She had to stay sharp. He was still out there, out on bail, and she knew that she couldn’t let her guard down until his trial was over.

As was now her ritual, she had walked the perimeter of her house, checking the lock on every window and door, and making sure that every room had at least one light burning. Just before retreating to her bedroom, she peered out the front window to verify that a patrol car was parked in front of her house. She locked her bedroom door, verified that her stun gun was fully charged, and then crawled into bed.

She was somewhere in the midst of those precious moments between drifting off to sleep and sliding into a nightmare when she was startled back to full consciousness by something… A noise! She sat up, listening intently, unable to place it or identify it. She blinked into every corner of the dimly lit room and visually checked the door lock. Everything looked all right. She quietly drew in a breath and tried to calm her nerves. And there it was again.

This time she was almost certain of what and where it was. It sounded like a floorboard groaning at the end of the hallway. All of her senses were now fully alert. She slid out of bed as she reached for the stun gun, and smacked her forehead on the corner of the nightstand. She winced and stifled a cry as she thumbed the weapon on. She felt a trickle of blood running down the side of her face. She swiped it with her hand and looked at it to verify that she was, in fact, bleeding. She grabbed the edge of her bed sheet and used it to hold pressure on the wound while she listened as hard as she could.

For a time that seemed to border on eternity, there was not another sound. As she began to mentally relax, she could hear the blood pounding louder and louder in her head. She started to feel dizzy. She reached up behind her to the telephone on the nightstand and pulled it down to the floor. Even if there was no one in the house, she thought she might have to call for help because of her rapidly increasing blood pressure.

Deep, calming breaths, she whispered to herself. She had already involved the police in too many false alarms. She was determined not to have them come charging into the house again to rescue her from yet another creaky floorboard. Jen forced herself to remove her thumb from the nine button on her phone and took another deep breath. She felt her pulse slowing down as she exhaled.

***

Malcolm Cole, you are under arrest for the murder of Jennifer Golden.

Whaaat?!? Malcolm spun on Detective Glade, shaking loose from the attempt to handcuff him.

Detective Sherman slammed Malcolm against the hood of the police cruiser and twisted his right arm upward, behind his back. Detective Glade slapped a cuff onto Malcolm’s wrist just a little tighter than was necessary, while his partner kept pressure against Malcolm’s back.

Malcolm struggled, shouting over his shoulder, I didn’t kill that bitch.

Of course not, Glade said, jerking him away from the hood of the car by his cuffed wrists. Let’s go. He pushed the suspect toward the back door of the car.

I didn’t kill that bitch, Malcolm screamed, his face growing a deeper shade of red with each word.

With his hand on Malcolm’s head, Glade shoved him through the door. And last time you were arrested you swore you didn’t rape her or cut up her face. But we all know better than that, don’t we?

Sherman stepped up to the door and waited for Malcolm’s string of expletives to subside. When the suspect was finally quiet, Sherman read him his rights.

I did not kill her, he articulated every syllable. And I have not been convicted of anything.

No, Mac, you haven’t been convicted yet, but we have a mountain of forensic evidence that will bury you at your trial.

Malcolm snorted, sounds like your star witness won’t be there to testify against me.

Sherman looked up at Glade. That almost sounded like a confession to me. What do you think, Benjamin?

I didn’t confess, Malcolm screamed, because I didn’t kill…

Sherman slammed the door in his face.

***

Officer Monica Martinez tugged her gun belt upward as she threw her leg over the stool next to Detectives Glade and Sherman. You two are such a cliché, she pulled the box of donuts closer to her and flipped the lid open.

Glade closed the lid and moved the box away from her. Don’t insult a man and then reach for his donuts, Officer Martinez.

She shrugged. "Alright boys, but I did come here to invite you to a barbecue."

Smiling, Sherman slid the box back toward her.

She chose one of the filled donuts, knowing full well that they were Glade’s favorites. As expected, he glared at her and moved the box back to the other side of the counter. You can throw a hundred barbecues and it ain’t gonna get you into homicide, Marti.

"Do not call me Marti, Benji!"

Hey, Sherman snapped at her, "that’s Detective Benji to you, Officer. Sherman nudged his partner, She isn’t inviting us to her house to get into homicide. I think it’s because she’s sweet on me."

Keep dreaming, dumb ass, Marti, here, doesn’t like boys, Glade said almost under his breath

Luckily, I’m a man and not a boy. And a rather handsome one at that.

Monica slid an invitation, containing a map to her house, across the counter to Detective Sherman. You can bring him if you want to, she nodded toward Glade.

Sherman watched Martinez leave the donut shop, and then turned to his partner. Why are you always such a jerk to her? She’s young, ambitious, always eager to help, and damn nice to look at.

Yeah, Doug, she’s a little too gung-ho for my taste. Gonna get herself dead if she doesn’t learn some patience. And for the record, you really aren’t her type, so give it up.

I don’t care if she’s a dyke, Detective Benji, I can still appreciate the view.

You ever call me Benji again, I’m gonna bust your nuts.

An honorable man would not do that to another man, Sherman grinned, Benji.

Glade brought his fist down on the box in front of him, flattening almost half of it. Your do-nuts, that is. He smirked and left the counter.

That ain’t right Benjamin, Sherman shook his head, picturing the mess inside the box.

***

Detective Glade pulled off his gun belt, re-fastened the buckle and hung it on a coat hook behind the bedroom door. He sat on the edge of his bed, kicked off his shoes and ran his hands through his thinning hair.

I take it this wasn’t one of the better days? His wife asked.

I’m not sure there’s enough water to wash this one off of me.

She pushed up her sleeves. I can scrub something.

Benjamin almost smiled. My eyes? My heart? The part of my brain that can’t stop seeing…

Oh? What did you see? She sat next to him.

He was silent for a while, considering his answer. "I don’t know that you need to