Mysteries of Maya: Mysteries of Maya, #1

By Kara Mugleston

A bank robbery jump starts this young, prestigious writer onto her path as a criminal investigator.

Maya, a young sleuth, investigates the clues, despite her dad's warnings. As the crimes escalate, so does the danger. Can Maya solve the mystery before it's too late?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kara Mugleston
• Release date: Mar 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393727958

Kara Mugleston

Kara Mugleston has been writing stories since she can remember. Her first story was about a unicorn that flew into a tree (it was never published). She loves her family, her dog, all things German, and anything sweet.

Book preview

Intro

My name is Maya. Maya Travis. This story starts with the reason why I was at a bank when there were four masked robbers firing guns in the air. It all started because Chronicle Circle , which is only the most prestigious periodical in town, asked me to be an intern. Not like I’m bragging or anything.

Let me tell you how a 17-year-old soon-to-be high school senior got an internship, and that will explain my involvement in a bank robbery.

It’s really quite a simple story, actually.

My dad is a police detective. Frequently, he brings his work home with him. He studies the files at home at the dinner table. Clocking out doesn’t really apply to him. Since I had nothing better to do, I peered over his shoulder, deciphering his scribbles and examining the pictures.

Nothing gruesome. Just break-ins. The strange thing was that these intruders knew when to occupy each house. I’m sorry. Did I say occupy? Oh, yes, because they occupied each house for days! They didn’t break in, steal diamonds, and run away like normal burglars. Also, the police found no DNA, although the surplus of dirty dishes implied that there should have been a surplus of it. These guys (or girls) found the time to bleach silverware, cups, and even the shower. They cleaned meticulously.

The length of the stay in each house bothered me. Some homes had been occupied for merely a weekend, others for nearly two weeks. If the family was gone for two weeks, the intruders stayed for nearly the same amount of time.

Pacing the dining room, I chewed on my lip. Who knows how long someone is out of town? Family members, friends, schools, coworkers and bosses. The victims weren’t related, shared no mutual friends, and worked at completely different companies. Some of these guys even owned their own businesses. I was missing something. My dad was missing something.

Walking myself through preparing for a vacation, I made a mental checklist: talk with teachers; catch up on school work; brag to my friends; tell my boss; book the flights and hotels; pack; clean the house; and place a hold on the mail.

Honestly, I think a light bulb appeared over my head. Meandering my way back to the table, I casually suggested, You know, these houses aren’t far apart. Different social statuses, sure, but all fairly close together. The families didn’t happen to place a hold on their mail, did they? It’d be pretty easy to hack into the records online. . .

My dad’s brown eyes studied me for a few seconds, then lightened with understanding.

Maya, you’re ingenious. He pressed his lips to my forehead. I shrugged my shoulders innocently.

While he called his partner, Landon, my dad shooed me off to bed.

Two days later, my dad informed me that they had caught the squatters. I pieced together an article for the school newspaper, naturally exaggerating my help in catching the bad guys. The following day, I got a call from Chronicle Circle, from the Editor-in-Chief’s secretary, asking me if I wanted an internship. Apparently, my dad had emailed them a copy of my article, without my knowledge or consent.