Read Tribal Law Online

Authors: Jenna Kernan

Tribal Law (6 page)

“I'm sorry, Selena,” Gabe said.

“Me, too.”

Gabe spoke into the radio. “Location?”

Juris relayed the information and Gabe told him he was en route with an ETA of twenty.

Selena had already reached the steps when he caught up with her, clasping her elbow. She kept her head down, refusing to look at him.

“What are we doing?” she whispered.

“I don't know. It just happened.”

She gave a sound that didn't seem quite a laugh. “It often does. We were always best in the dark, weren't we?”

What was that supposed to mean?

“I must be crazy,” she whispered.

He wished he could think of something to say.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said. “I never meant for any of this.” He wasn't just referring to the kiss. He meant everything, the entire five terrible years as he had risen from sergeant to chief. As his career had progressed and his personal life had stalled.

She glanced at him, as if waiting for him to say something else. But what?

“I just came out here to check on you. That's all.”

“Well, you gave me a really thorough checking.”

He let her go and she proceeded up the steps. Then he called after her.

“How did your dad get mixed up with Dryer?” he asked.

She reached the top step and turned to face him. “Dad was approached by Raggar's man in prison and so he got word to the DOJ with the help of a Salt River Apache man, just released. This all happened because of that contact.”

“Dangerous game.”

“Dad says less dangerous than letting Raggar recruit him. At least now he has a chance to really be free.”

Or get them all killed
, thought Gabe.

“Selena, the state police will be contacting you regarding the shooting of Jason Leekela and Oscar Hill.”

She gripped the railing as if she needed it for support.

“But I thought Dryer said...” She stopped talking as if realizing he would not keep the shooting under wraps. “But he told you not to mention us.”

“I can't suppress the fact that you were there.”

“Not about my father.” Her eyes went wide and she stared at him. “You didn't say
he
was there.”

His silence was answer enough.

“They'll think he broke parole. They'll put him back in. If they do, then Raggar will know.”

“The crimes investigation team already knows your dad is working with DOJ. They won't bring him in. They'll question you here.”

“But if Raggar's people have someone in the state police, then they'll find out, something bad will happen to my family.”

“He won't find out. When the state police investigation team comes, tell them everything,” he said.

She gave her head a slow shake and then left him out in the cold, with one foot on her step and one in the snow.

Had he just put his reputation above the safety of Selena and her family?

Chapter Nine

Gabe threw out the remains of the cold coffee, leaving a brown stain on the snow. They'd found Chee's car and a blood trail to Officer Chee. He'd been shot multiple times at close range. The coroner's opinion matched his own—Chee had been killed somewhere else, loaded into his car and dumped over the guardrail where he'd rolled down a steep embankment.

Gabe had found his officer, and now there were three gunshot victims in the morgue: Hill, Leekela and Chee.

Hell of a day, though officially it was already tomorrow.

They'd gotten some good footprint casts thanks to the icy cold that had preserved them. Preliminarily, it looked as though Chee had been moved in something, a blanket or tarp. The cold that helped preserve the tracks also meant the killer or killers likely were wearing gloves, so there was less chance of pulling latents.

Like all the Cosens, Gabe had learned to track from his grandfather, so he knew something about the two who'd moved the body. One was big, over two-hundred pounds and wearing size-twelve basketball sneakers. The other person was smaller, lighter and wore construction boots.

By 3:00 a.m., the coffee wasn't keeping him alert enough for driving so he headed to his office. But he didn't release the scene because Juris wanted another look in daylight.

Gabe stretched out on the familiar leather couch where he had spent more than a few nights. He removed his tie, kicked off his boots and dragged the big sheepskin coat over his chest. When he closed his eyes, he tried to imagine Selena, safe in bed, but images of Chee kept intruding. Gabe must have dozed because he was sound asleep when Clyne woke him with a hard rap on the glass of his office door at eight. Gabe blinked against the bright sunlight streaming through his windows and checked the time. Selena would be halfway around the 113-mile loop she drove each weekday.

He wished he had more men so he could post watch on Selena's place. But not only did he not have the manpower, if there was a leak in his own department the attention would raise flags. Then instead of protecting Selena, he'd be endangering her.

Gabe swung his legs off the couch and sat up, sending his winter coat to the floor. He rubbed the bristle of his hair. It might not be a traditional style, but it sure made things easier on days like this.

Gabe eyed the coffee in Clyne's hand.

“That for me?”

His older brother handed it over.

“You ought to try food sometime.”

“Grandma makes sure of that.” Gabe took a sip and sighed, sitting back on the couch for a moment with his eyes closed.

Clyne brought him back to the real world.

“You found Chee,” he said.

Gabe set the coffee aside. “Yeah.”

“I'm sorry,” said Clyne. “Let me know what I can do.”

Gabe nodded and tugged on his work boots, then yanked the hems of his jeans over the laces. Standing, he tucked in his shirt, refastened the buttons and looped the tie around his neck.

Clyne's look registered disapproval. The only thing his brother wore around his neck was Indian silver and turquoise that had been in their family for generations. The traditional designs were ancient, visually striking and protective. If it didn't support a cause or uphold tradition, Clyne wasn't wearing it.

Gabe adjusted his belt and the badge clipped beside the silver buckle that was one of many he'd won riding broncos.

“You sleep with that thing?” said Clyne, incredulous.

“More and more lately,” he said. Gabe recovered the coffee and took a long swallow.

“What do you think happened to Chee?” asked Clyne.

“Something bad.”

Gabe sat behind his desk and retrieved his pistol from the locked desk drawer. Then he aroused his computer with a keystroke and fired up his email.

Clyne moved to the empty chair before his desk. “What's this about Jason Leekela and Oscar Hill?”

Word traveled fast.

“I shot them.”

Gabe did not mention the Doselas or DOJ. It was a breach of protocol and it bothered him. But not as much as seeing Selena shot.

Gabe continued, “I called the state police investigations team to handle it. They were on-site yesterday.”

Clyne seemed to know that already. His brother also knew it was not the first time Gabe had used deadly force. The first had been in a foiled robbery, with Clay behind the wheel.

“They're coming to see me today.”

“Should have cleared that with the council.”

“On my list.”

Clyne gave him a troubled look.

Gabe knew Clyne had been a sniper in Afghanistan. But that was all he knew, because his brother wouldn't talk about it. At least Clyne didn't know any of his kills, while Gabe had known each one. As of yesterday, Gabe had shot three men. It didn't feel good.

“You okay?” asked Clyne.

“I will be, I expect.”

Clyne's mouth was tight. “Listen, I wanted to tell you last night, but you were busy. We heard from Clay yesterday afternoon.”

“That right?” Gabe found himself on the edge of his desk chair, his in-box forgotten.

Clay had taken up the hunt for their missing little sister, Jovanna. Five months ago, he and Clyne had verified she had indeed survived the accident that had taken their mother's life in South Dakota nine years earlier. Their youngest brother, Kino, and his new wife, Lea, had picked up the search in the fall and discovered that Jovanna had been adopted by a non-Indian, which had sent Clyne into a frenzy. But the adoption was closed, so they could gain no additional information. Clay was now in federal court, pursuing legal action to have the adoption unsealed and overturned under the Indian Child Welfare Act.

Gabe found himself longing for good news.

“Clay says that they served the adoptive mother with the papers that the adoption will be opened and that we are filing for termination of her parental rights to Jovanna.”

Gabe sat back. “That's great. So, what now?”

“We should be getting her name and other information soon. The courts will look at our assertion that the adoption was illegal.”

“How long will that take?” Gabe knew that their grandmother had already finished the loosely constructed traditional dress that their sister would wear with an ornate belt and moccasins for her Sunrise Ceremony, the Apache coming-of-age rite that marked the time when a thirteen-year-old changed from a girl to a woman in the eyes of the tribe. Jovanna was turning thirteen on June 4, and the ceremony was on July 4 each year. Suddenly, that seemed very close.

“I don't know, but the law is on our side.”

Gabe's desk phone buzzed.

Jasmine, their dispatcher, did not come in until 9:00 a.m. Until then, they shared a dispatcher with the fire department and calls were routed to him if necessary. So he was not surprised to see the name of one of the firefighters, Vernon Martin, on his caller ID.

He glanced at his brother. “Gotta take this.” Then he lifted the handset.

“There are some men from the Arizona state police here to see you, Chief,” said Vernon.

Clyne obviously heard because he shook his head in disapproval.

“Nothing they're going to do but make things worse,” he predicted, reminding Gabe of Matt Dryer's words.

Did his brother really think Gabe should be investigating the shooting he had been involved in? His brother knew everything about history, politics and Apache culture, but very little about police work.

“I'll meet them,” Gabe said, and lowered the receiver.

“Have you been out to notify next of kin?” asked Clyne.

“My officers notified the Hill and Leekela families last night. I spoke to Chee's brother. He was on duty at the station.” Chee's brother, Andre, volunteered at the tribal fire department.

“I'm heading out to see Chee's mother,” said Clyne. “Going to invite you along.”

But Gabe had a date with the state police, a cop killer on the loose and an active shooting investigation to pursue.

“Can't. Work.”

“That seems like all you do anymore,” said Clyne.

Why did that make Gabe think of Selena?

Chapter Ten

The roads were getting worse on Thursday morning as Selena finished her route, and she struggled to keep the box truck from sliding on the ice. She didn't have snow tires, so she took it easy on the turns, making it to their driveway after nine in the morning so her younger sister Mia could start her run down to Phoenix and back to the tribe's casino in Black Mountain. Mia was three years her junior and had been delivering foodstuffs for the four restaurants on-site for over two years, taking the route when their twin sisters, Paula and Carla, had turned twenty, passed their trucking classes and taken over the long hauls with the truck and flatbed that Selena had purchased used. Her sister normally left before Selena returned from her route. But since her mother's treatment began, they didn't like to leave their mother alone. Since the chemo, she was frail and had difficulty dressing and keeping the house.

Selena glanced at the passenger's side mirror automatically and then sighed at the sight of the clear plastic secured to the frame with duct tape. That would have to do until she could get a new side window, but she certainly wasn't going to the junkyard for one.

On entering the driveway, the first thing she noticed was the fresh tire tracks in the snow. Selena knew enough about tracking to recognize they'd had a visitor.

She had only just cut the engine when Mia stepped out of the house and hurried toward her. Her sister waited until her door was open to launch into her concerns.

“Some weird guy was here. Dad said he had hired him as a driver. Did you know about this?”

“No. I didn't.”

“Oh, Selena, he's got tattoos everywhere. The scary kind. He asked me a lot of questions about the flatbed the twins drive.”

“Like what?”

“How much weight it holds. How do you keep barrels from rolling around without sides and when will the twins be back. Leenie, what kind of driver doesn't know how to secure a load for transport?”

The kind who isn't a driver
, Selena thought.

“Is he Apache?” she asked.

“Yeah, but trouble. Serious trouble.”

“How serious?”

“Gang member for sure.”

Selena's stomach dropped another few inches. Was this Escalanti's man? The promised contact who would take them to the barrels of chemicals Dryer wanted so desperately?

“Did you get a name?”

“Pablo Nota. When he asked about the flatbed, I asked if he'd ever driven and he basically told me to shut up.”

“Why didn't you call me?”

“Because the weather is crappy and I knew you'd be home soon. I didn't want you answering the phone when you were driving.” Mia had her arms folded, shivering in her polar fleece jacket.

Selena didn't know if she should be happy or terrified at Nota's visit. If this man was one of the gang members, then they didn't know about the shooting and they might still take them to the supplies of chemicals. Then this entire nightmare might be over. But how it might end frightened her right down to the bone.

She slipped a hand into her pocket to phone Gabe.

Mia stood in the snow, watching her older sister.

“What's going on?” asked Mia.

Should she tell her? Selena just wanted to protect Mia, but she didn't know if the best way to do that was to tell her or not tell her.

“Is he coming back?” asked Selena.

“Any minute. Dad told him when you finish your route.”

Selena wondered if Gabe could really catch them or if, by involving him, she had just signed his death warrant along with her family's.

“You want me to stay?” asked Mia.

No she wanted Mia as far away from here as possible. Selena was tempted to tell her sister to pick up Tomas and their mother and drive as fast and as far as she could.

Selena met Mia's worried stare. “No. You go on.”

“You know something, Leenie. Tell me.”

She shook her head. “I can't.”

Mia glanced at the house. “Then be careful and you tell me if I can help.”

Mia lunged forward, hugging Selena tight.

“Be careful,” she whispered and kissed Selena's cheek. Then Mia climbed into her truck, gave Selena a long look and then backed out of the drive. Selena hadn't even reached the front steps when her father opened the front door to greet her. The gash on his head had scabbed, but beneath it was an ugly purple lump.

“Mia tell you?”

She nodded and he stepped back, allowing her past. Then he closed the door behind her.

“It was Escalanti's guy,” he said. “The lab needs regular transport. Two or three barrels a week to keep up production, or they might move the whole load with our flatbed, but that's more dangerous because if we are stopped they lose it all. They could also use our big rig to move the meth lab, though he didn't suggest that. Makes no difference because we won't be moving any of it. With luck we'll know where they're hiding it this afternoon and we can end this. That's assuming that your hotshot chief of police doesn't get us all killed before then. As I see it, Escalanti has more men in his gang than Cosen has on the force.”

Selena's skin tingled as if tiny creatures walked over her skin. She tried and failed to suppress a shudder.

“Gabe said he'd take care of us.”

Her father laughed. “I've been taken care of by him once already. That boy is taking care of himself and his career. He's hot as a pistol, that one. He'd be the next governor if he wasn't Apache. Only man I've ever seen rise quicker is his older brother, our future tribal council chairman. Man, I'd like to see them stumble just once.”

But Gabe had stumbled, she realized. Last night with her, just as he had when he'd asked for her hand.

Selena felt trapped. She glanced toward the road, thinking of Gabe. Wishing...

Her father's voice broke into her thoughts.

“You know it's over between you two, right?”

Her heart squeezed and a cry of denial stuck in her throat. But she knew the truth of her father's words. “Yes.”

“Good. 'Cause he don't want you, girlie. He's sniffing around, but not for a wife.”

She was about to tell her father that Gabe was a gentleman. That he was not like that. But then she remembered his hands on her hips, lifting her up as his body pressed her down to the cold vinyl of his rear seat.

That was not the way you treated a woman you cared for. That was the way you treated a...

“Stay away from him,” her father said. “They don't know about you two and if they find out they might just kill him or you or both. If they hear we were there when that stupid junkie Jason Leekela and his friend got shot trying to rob their brother's shipment...” Frasco groaned and pressed both hands to his temples.

“There is nothing between us now.”

Her father dropped his hands and aimed a finger at her. “The past is between you. Keep it there.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“State police called.” He lifted a scrap of paper.

She'd told him about the state police last night after Gabe had told her. Her father didn't look any happier now than he had been then.

“They want to interview us both. They're coming this afternoon, which means we need to get out of here before then.”

“You're on house arrest. They'll report it when you're not here.”

“Let them. They already know we're working with DOJ. If they have a leak, we're dead anyway.”

Her father placed a foot on the sofa and released the tracking device that was supposed to insure he stayed put and then dropped it on the coffee table.

Her father grabbed his coat and Selena followed him out. The sound of snow crunching under tires brought them both around. At first she didn't recognize the driver behind the wheel of the blue SUV pulling into their drive. But her father clearly did.

“Holy hell,” muttered her father dashing past her and then scrambling to replace the anklet.

“Who is that?” asked Selena, standing in the open door.

“My parole officer. Drop-in visits, remember?”

* * *

S
ELENA
STARED
IN
horror at the man she had met yesterday morning, when her father had returned from prison.

Ronald Hare was an Apache case manager from the Salt River Reservation to their south. He'd said he had more than a few parolees up here in Black Mountain and that not all his visits would be announced. But Selena had not expected him to drop by the very next day.

“What do we do?” asked Selena. Her instinct was to call Gabe. But was he really there for her or, as her father had said, after only one thing? No, Gabe was an honest man who did his duty first, last and always.

Mr. Hare had gotten out of his vehicle and was moving toward them. He was an attractive young man with a broad smile on his handsome face. He had a small goatee. His hair was chin length and slicked back. He wore boots, jeans and an open, knee-length topcoat that reminded Selena of the dusters cowboys wore in inclement weather. But one look at the man's spotless clothing told you that this Apache did not work with cattle.

He called a greeting and her father gave a wave from the steps, his anklet now back in place. Hare was halfway to the house when a second car roared down the street, its performance exhaust system announcing its arrival before it came into view. Her father groaned.

Hare turned and Selena glanced past him as the yellow Ford Mustang made its appearance. Selena had seen the car in Black Mountain and heard it more than a few times, but she had never seen the driver because of the illegally tinted glass.

Selena gripped the railing as she watched the sports car come to a stop in the drive. The muscle car was the color of an egg yolk and just as shiny. The tailpipe extended beyond the fender with glistening chrome and the car's sides were stenciled with black detailing. The car was as practical as a parasol in an ice storm, but it certainly had flash.

The driver emerged. He was young, perhaps twenty, with a thin, angular face. His clothing was new and baggy, perfect for concealing a weapon. The dark glasses and flat-brimmed hat disguised his eyes. This could be no one other than Pablo Nota, Escalanti's minion.

He lowered the shades to check out the new arrival.

“Who's this?” he said.

“I'm Ronald Hare, Mr. Dosela's parole officer. And you are?”

It was like watching two cars slide toward each other on ice. Selena knew they were going to collide and she was powerless to stop them.

“This is my daughter's boyfriend,” her father said.

Selena did not think she quite managed to hide her horrified expression.

“I see.” Mr. Hare regarded Nota.

Nota hesitated, hands still in his jacket pockets.

Her father spoke to Nota.

“This is my parole officer, Mr. Hare, making an unannounced visit.”

Nota's hesitation was brief. He plastered a wide smile on his face and nodded his greeting, keeping both hands in his pockets.

Selena didn't want to think what he had in there.

Hare drew back his extended hand.

After an uncomfortable silence, her father spoke again.

“She's just getting her coat,” said her father and pushed Selena toward the door. “You want to come in, son?”

“Naw. I'll wait here.”

Her father turned to their second guest. “Come on in, Mr. Hare.”

Hare took a good look at her father and hesitated, staring at the healing gash and lump. “Jeez. What happened to you?”

Her father didn't miss a beat. “Don't remember. Got pretty drunk last night. Woke up on the kitchen floor with this.” He pointed at his head.

He did not wait for Hare to follow them but shoved Selena toward the door and followed her inside.

“You'll have to go alone,” said her father.

“But...” Selena looked out the small window in the door. “Hare is on the phone.” She glanced to her father. “Quick. Call Gabe.”

Her father hurried to the phone and had it in his hand when Hare stepped in. Her father lowered the phone.

Ronald Hare looked from one to the other. Selena found his eyes too alert and his smile somehow threatening.

Her mother shuffled into the room still in her robe.

Her father motioned to their uninvited guest. “Ruthie, you remember Ronnie Hare, my parole officer?”

Mr. Hare greeted her mother in Apache. Her father walked Selena to the door where he gave her an unexpected hug and pressed something into her hand. She took it knowing by touch it was the tracking anklet that he was supposed to be wearing at all times.

“Take it,” he whispered.

The minute she left the yard the unit would beep. It would alert Dryer that they were in trouble and tell him where they were. Unfortunately it would also cause the base unit to emit a high-pitched shrieking alarm the minute she left the yard. How was her father going to explain that to Hare?

She shoved the tracker in her pocket and drew back.

“See you soon,” she said, then nodded to the parole officer.

Behind her she heard her father telling Hare to come into the kitchen for some coffee. He preceded her father who stooped and tore the wires from the monitoring unit so it would not sound an alarm if the bracelet moved out of range. They had told her father that they could track him with the anklet. Could they also track her? When she moved past the driveway, the alarm would sound only on the anklet. How was she supposed to keep Nota from hearing it?

Selena headed out to meet Escalanti's man. How long did the device beep?

“He can't come,” she said. Should she just drop the tracker out the window as she left the drive?

“No kidding. Let's go.” He headed toward her truck. Nota slowed as they approached the box truck. “What's up with the window?”

She glanced at the patch job and sighed, hoping it would hold until she could get a new window.

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