12 SEPTEMBER 4-10, 2025 westword.com WESTWORD | MUSIC | CAFE | CULTURE | NIGHT+DAY | NEWS | LETTERS | CONTENTS | ing to different stories from people claim- ing to know what happened that fateful night, and hearing whispers from friends- of-friends who allege that the suspects brag about getting away with murder. “We almost had it. We almost had it,” Maestas laments. “That man got away with it.” A Life Lost Christmas and birthday gifts for Tverberg sit inside of Gonzales’s home to this day, wrapped and waiting for her to fi nally return home to open them. Gonzales says she and her daughter both nearly died when she was pregnant due to a severe case of HELLP syndrome. Tverberg spent over a week in the neonatal intensive care unit after she was born prematurely, weighing just four pounds and measuring sixteen inches long. “When she came home, I was overbear- ing. I didn’t want people touching her, didn’t want people around her,” Gonzales says. “I wish I never would have let anybody around my baby.” She describes her daughter as brilliant, thoughtful and gifted in singing and playing the drums. Above all, Gonzales says Tverberg was endlessly loving, recalling how at the age of ten, she negotiated with a store manager to buy her mom a necklace for Valentine’s Day with her own money. Gonzales was equally dedicated to her daughter; going to college so she could provide Tverberg with a better life, getting a house so Tverberg could have a backyard, changing her job to work from home full-time when Tverberg struggled with depression. “Everything that I ever did in my life was for that little girl,” Gonzales says through tears. “Now, I don’t do anything. I can’t look at things because if I see something beautiful, I know she’s not here to see it. I don’t want to have fun because she can’t. I just want to be with her. I don’t want to be here without her.” Maestas and Tverberg met in middle school. She calls her friend funny, smart and someone who “could do anything.” They were inseparable throughout their youth, she says, referring to each other as sisters and often spending days just sitting in si- lence together. Though they grew apart into adulthood, they always kept in touch online. The inbox of Tverberg’s Instagram ac- count is fi lled with unopened messages from Maestas. Even after her friend’s death, Mae- stas says she continued writing to Tverberg about how her day was and what was going on in her life, knowing that the messages would never be read. Maestas still fi nds her- self crying over the loss of her friend several times a week, when she hears a certain song or sees a certain food that Tverberg loved. “She took a huge part of my heart with her. I haven’t been the same the last six years,” Maestas says. “It’s changed my life completely. The grief hasn’t gone away for me, I don’t think it ever will. We were sup- posed to be each other’s bridesmaids. I won’t get to see her get married or have kids or do all the things that she wanted to do. And I hate that.” Detective Martinez says he tries to remain optimistic that the case will one day reach a resolution. Perhaps one of the suspects will come forward, or perhaps someone hid- ing important information or evidence will reach out now that some of the individuals involved in the case are behind bars. “Being a detective, there are cases that linger and stay with you. This is defi nitely one,” Martinez says. “Even if it’s been six years, she’s still im- portant,” Maestas adds. “She still matters.” Authorities ask anyone who knows anything about Alicia Tverberg’s murder to contact Metro Denver Crime Stoppers online or by calling 720- 913-7867. Tipsters can remain anonymous and are eligible for a cash reward for information leading to an arrest. Alicia Tverberg and her mother, Irene Gonzales. A mug shot of Mario Raymond Sanchez included in a January 2020 search warrant. COURTESY IRENE GONZALES Tverberg continued from page 10 ADAMS COUNT Y COURT RECORDS
