Tribal Law (9 page)

She gave him a beseeching look now. As if wanting him to understand something. He got that cold feeling in the pit of his stomach again.

“Selena, don't let him drag you any farther into this. Please.” He was about to ask her to come with him. To let him protect her from her family, which he now believed to be the biggest threat. Her love for them put her in danger. But Selena cut him off.

“You have your job. I have my family. My sisters, my mom and my little brother all need me. My father needs me, too, in his way. They are everything to me.”

“But you're not safe here. Come with me. I can protect you.”

“Protect us, my entire family? With twelve men? Or just me?”

She waited.

“Just you.”

Her smile was so sad. She leaned forward and he followed, filled with a fragile hope. She stroked his cheek and then her fingers slipped away.

He didn't want her to put him through this again, making him choose between doing his duty and protecting her family.

He knew what he'd do if she forced him to choose and it scared him to his core. He'd choose her and lose it all.

“I'll find the precursor,” she said. “Then you can arrest them, and things can go back to the way they were.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked. It wasn't what he wanted. Not anymore. He wanted Selena back.

This time her father was working with DOJ, but he'd still managed to drag Selena into the line of fire twice in only twenty-four hours.

He wished he could throw him back in prison.

“So you're willing to stick to Dryer's story?” he asked.

“That Nota took the truck because Dad's parole officer stopped by? Yes. Nota didn't call anyone. So Escalanti wouldn't know I was with him, and his car is still here. Plus it explains the bullet holes in my truck. The story works.”

It might work. Or it might get Selena killed. If Escalanti thought she was working with the federal authorities, would he kill her or just call off the deliveries?

It was a huge risk. One he didn't want Selena to take.

If he were Escalanti, he would either move the lab and call things off, or kill the Doselas on the suspicion they were playing him.

“I should arrest you,” he said. The threat was halfhearted. “At least then I'd know you were safe.”

To arrest her was to blow the investigation wide-open. He chafed at the need to do his job and his instinct to keep Selena with him.

“I just want this to be over,” she said. “Good night, Gabe.”

She shifted and the door release clicked, then Selena slipped from his unit.

She hesitated. He knew he should say something. But words failed him. Selena closed the door and he let her walk away, waiting until she was inside before starting the engine. Had he thought she might change her mind and come back to him?

She wouldn't. She had her family and he had his job.

He stared at Nota's muscle car, which gleamed yellow under the light from the Doselas' living room window. It wouldn't be long before the Salt River gang missed their two gunmen and Escalanti knew that Nota and Martinez were not coming back.

Chapter Fourteen

Gabe returned to the crime scene after dropping off Selena and met with his lead investigator and Murdy, who had bad news. His men had run the snowmobile's trail and hit a dead end. The precursor had been off-loaded at the shoulder of the road that ran parallel to Piñon Lake Road. They could determine nothing of the delivering vehicle or vehicles. In other words, they had not found the location of the storage site for the precursor.

“Another dead end,” said Gabe.

“Seems so,” said Detective Juris.

“Any notion on how the Salt River gang members knew about this delivery?” asked Detective Murdy.

Gabe shook his head. “Love to know that myself.”

Unfortunately the ones who could tell them were both dead. He stayed until the scene was released and then drove back to the station to jot down some notes.

When he was finished he was too tired to drive home, so he once again stretched out on the wide leather sofa. His last thought before slumber stole him away was of Selena sitting at his side, her thumb caressing the back of his hand.

There was a gentle rapping on his door. Gabe startled to a sitting position, catching his big sheepskin jacket before it hit the floor. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced up to see Detective Randall Juris looking at him from beneath a creased brow.

“That's two nights in a row,” said Juris, pointing to Gabe's choice of sleeping arrangements.

“It saves time and it's quiet.”

Juris looked around at the Spartan little box of an office. Filing cabinet, minifridge, desk, chair and couch. Gabe knew that Juris had been married many years and thought his smile looked indulgent.

“Quiet might be good, but when Dora goes down to see her folks, it drives me a little crazy. You know?”

Gabe understood. Too much quiet was not good, especially compared to having a woman you loved share your home and your bed. Gabe thought of coming home to a family, as Juris did every night, and felt an unexpected surge of envy.

“All ready for tomorrow?”

He meant the funeral. The assemblage would be tremendous. Bigger even than some of their festivals.

“Thanks to Yepa, we are. She has been coordinating with the family. Arizona law enforcement will be here. US Marines, state politicians and representatives from the Apache tribes in Salt River and Oklahoma. Chee had family up there.” Gabe had never given a eulogy and in his heart he knew he was not up to the task.

“I thought he was army,” Juris said.

Juris massaged his neck with one hand and gripped the latch with the other. Gabe recognized this as a sign that whatever news Juris had, he was not anxious to deliver it.

“Salva asked me to come get you, Chief,” said Juris. “They're all assembled.”

Gabe's gaze flicked to the wall clock. It was almost time. First shift would be gathering in the conference room. But today was different because they had located Chee's body, confirmed he was dead. So today all twelve officers in the brotherhood of tribal police would assemble for roll call. Gabe corrected himself. Only eleven officers, now.

He and Juris exchanged a grim look.

“I'll be right there.”

Juris left him. Gabe headed to the bathroom to throw some water on his face, his bones suddenly weary. When he entered the briefing room a few minutes later, all the men stood.

Sergeant Franklin Salva addressed him. “Chief Cosen, would you like to call the roll?”

“No, Sergeant. It's your honor.”

Although the funeral was tomorrow, today they would perform a private ceremony for Officer Chee. The men remained standing, responding, as always, as Salva took the roll, but with one exception. He left their fallen officer for last. When he called Dante's name all the men stood in silence as their sergeant called for Dante Gerald Chee again, and again and one final time. Then Salva turned to his chief and said, “Officer Dante Gerald Chee, end of watch.”

The gathering of men remained standing in somber silence until Sergeant Salva broke through their contemplation in a voice thick with determination.

“Okay, listen up because I have some information...” Salva launched into his briefing, concluding with a warning. “And I will personally kick the butt of any man who is not wearing his Kevlar.”

Gabe headed back to his office and was on the phone with the state's evidence lab when Parole Officer Ronnie Hare stopped by a little before ten.

Gabe motioned him to a seat. Ronnie relaxed back into the chair before Gabe's desk, glancing around the room until Gabe returned the handset to its cradle. The two spoke in Apache for a while, just exchanging pleasantries and news from each reservation. Salt River was connected to the southern border of Black Mountain reservation. But each reservation had its own government. Ronnie's reservation was a mixture of several different Apache people, while Black Mountain was almost exclusively Mountain Apache.

Ronnie switched to English. “Hey, I'm real sorry to hear about your guy. That's terrible.”

“Yeah. He's the first man we've lost.”

“Just awful. You got any leads?”

“We're running forensics. I'm sure we'll find something.”

“And you had some gang violence.”

Gabe's brow lifted. “Where'd you hear that?”

“I was chatting with Yepa. Her husband is a classmate of my cousin.”

“Were you?” But he offered nothing more.

He recalled Dryer's complaint that everyone here was related to everyone else. Gabe forced a smile and resisted the urge to look at his watch.

“Think they're connected?” asked Hare.

“It's early in the investigation. Can't rule anything out.”

“Sure. Sure. Anyways, I went out to visit Frasco Dosela yesterday,” said Hare. “Unannounced visit. So that's why I'm here. I was getting a vibe. You know? Like something was going on. Thought I'd let you know.”

Gabe believed that what Hare had noticed was that his untimely arrival had kept Frasco from riding along with Selena, as they had planned.

“A vibe?” asked Gabe.

“Yeah. I've been at this a while and Mr. Dosela seemed agitated at my arrival. Really restless.”

“Interesting,” said Gabe.

“And I didn't like the looks of his daughter's boyfriend.”

Gabe's antenna went up as he realized the weakness in Dryer's cover story. Here was a witness to Selena being at the house when Nota arrived. Had he seen them leave together in her truck?

“Why not?” Did his voice still sound casual? He wasn't sure. He needed to get to Dryer. Let him know.

“He seemed a little young for her. Plus that car. And he was dressed...” Hare waved his hands as he struggled to come up with a description. “Like one of my parolees.”

“That's not good.”

“Plus they took the box truck instead of his car.”

Gabe's heart sank. Nota's car was still at the Dosela's. He needed to get it out of there before Hare saw it again.

“Why would they take that truck?” asked Hare.

Gabe rubbed his neck. “Better traction?”

“Maybe. It was weird. Anyway, Yepa said gang violence, so I thought I'd mention it to you.”

What would Hare think when he learned that one of the victims was the man he had seen leaving with Selena?

“Hey, next time I go out there, would you like to ride along?” Ronnie asked.

Gabe did look at his watch this time. “Not unless you feel you need me there.”

“Oh, no. I can handle my job. Just, well, as I said. Something seemed off.” Hare's eyes drifted, turning to the files on Gabe's desk before sweeping back to him.

“You going out there today?” asked Gabe.

“No. Seeing another release.” Hare provided the name.

Good
, Gabe thought, because if Hare were going, Gabe would need to speak to Selena first. Likely impossible now as she'd be on her run and her phone got no service on much of the route. Still he'd try until he got through to her.

Gabe stood, signaling an end to the chat.

“Well, if anything seems wonky with Dosela, I'll let you know.” Ronnie rose and Gabe walked him to the door. They shook hands and they said their farewells in Apache.

Gabe waited until Ronnie Hare was out of sight to call Juris and explain the problem.

“I'll run a check on him. But if he's got a big mouth, that could be a problem. I can send a unit to stick with him,” said Juris.

“No. That will just make him suspicious.”

“Okay, then.” Juris turned to other matters. “We have positive ID on all of the shooters. Red Hawk down in Salt River helped with the ID of the ones who attacked the truck. He knew them on sight.”

“Maybe Nota's death will flush Escalanti out of his burrow,” said Gabe.

“Hope so. Oh,” said Juris. “I spoke to Sammy Leekela about his brother's death. Routine interview. He seemed more nervous than grief-stricken. Think they might move that meth lab?”

“Dryer's got men watching it.”

“That's good, I suppose.” Juris certainly didn't sound pleased with that news. “I hate that they're on our land.”

“I know,” said Gabe. “But it's too big, Randall.”

“We need to nail Escalanti,” said Juris.

Once the prospect of taking down the leader of the Wolf Posse would have filled Gabe with anticipation. What he was feeling now was more like dread.

Yepa buzzed him with a call, which Juris could easily hear.

“Later,” said Juris, ending the call.

Gabe picked up the call from Detective Murdy of the Arizona state police crimes investigation unit. Murdy had been one of the two men on-site at last night's shooting.

Murdy told him they had a match between the tracks at the site of Chee's body and the ones of Nota and the second man, Alfred Martinez. Initial results indicated they had found the killers of his officer.

He'd only just replaced the handset when Yepa buzzed him again. She had another call for him and asked if he wanted it patched through. He needed to call Selena. Tell her about Ronnie Hare.

“Is it important?”

“I don't know. But it's Selena Dosela.”

Gabe's heart fluttered as if it was considering stopping. Selena never called him. Not once since she handed back his ring.

“Put her through.”

Chapter Fifteen

Gabe waited, clutching the handset so tight that his wrist started to ache. Still, he couldn't release his grip. There was a familiar click.

“Gabe? You there?” It was Selena's sweet voice.

He'd forgotten to say hello or even identify himself.

“Here,” he said, his voice sounding harsh, like a dog's bark.

“Uh, hi.” There was a long pause. Gabe could hear the clock on the wall ticking away the seconds. He should say something.

He didn't know if he should launch into his business or ask her what she wanted or tell her he enjoyed seeing her, but that seemed wrong because of the shooting. As he was dithering he realized she wasn't speaking, either. He waited, phone now pressed tight to his ear listening to the silence.

“Selena?”

“Yes. I'm here.”

Another long pause. Gabe wiped his brow and discovered he was sweating. Yepa peered in from the doorway and gave him an odd look. Her brows rose.

She whispered to him. “Want some water?”

He waved her away, fanning the air so hard it looked as if he was under attack by a swarm of hornets.

“Um, Carla and Paula are home,” said Selena.

Gabe sat back in his chair because he knew who she meant. Her youngest sisters, the twins, had returned from their long haul.

That meant a truck big enough to transport the load out of here was now on Black Mountain. They had to find the precursor pronto.

“Gabe?”

“Yes. I heard,” he said. “The twins are home safe.”

“Yes.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

“Sure.”

The silence stretched.

“You need me to come out there?” he asked.

“No. We're fine.”

“Okay, then. Where are you?”

“Finishing my route. Why?”

Because mobile phones could more easily be tapped.

“Maybe you should come in. We could have lunch.”

There was a long pause. “What's going on?”

“Your dad's parole officer was here. He's worried about your new boyfriend.”

“He's not my...oh.” More silence. “I see.”

“I'm heading out that way.” He hadn't been, but he was now.

Her breath became audible for a moment. “See you later, then.”

She said goodbye and he heard the click. He stared at the phone as the image of Selena stroking his hand rose. He stood and headed for the door.

Yepa buzzed him. Juris was on the line wanting to review initial findings.

“Switch it to my mobile.” He set his hat on his head and made a beeline for his unit.

His phone rang and he took the call, switching it to speaker as he drove toward Wolf Canyon. Juris reviewed initial findings, evidence collection, identification of the two Salt River shooters.

“I'll call Chief Red Hawk in Salt River,” said Gabe, referring to the chief of the tribal police in the Apache reservation to their south. “See if he has any more details on those two than what's in the database.”

“Good.”

Gabe told Juris about the visit from Hare and the hole in his story.

Juris cursed. “Well, he's not going to talk to Escalanti.”

“He's got ex-cons to check on all over both reservations.”

“Could be a problem,” said Juris.

Understatement of the year, thought Gabe. “I'm heading out to the Doselas'.”

“Might be best not to be seen coming and going. A police unit parked in her drive is the worse of the two threats.”

“We have to pick up Nota's car. Gives me an excuse.”

“Fine.”

Gabe called a tow truck and met him at the Doselas'. They had Nota's car off premises when Selena appeared, driving Mia's box truck, hers having been seized for evidence.

Gabe waited beside the parked 18-wheeler with the flatbed trailer while Selena opened the driver's side door of the box truck. Then he did what he used to do—reached up, clasped her by her small waist and lifted her down in front of him. Her arms slipped naturally around his neck. She grinned up at him. Did she remember how they used to laugh together? Her smile faded by degrees and she removed her hands from the back of his neck. Suddenly he felt the cold there more acutely.

“I didn't talk to anyone,” she said, and stepped back making some space between them. “And no one mentioned the shooting. I don't think word is out yet.”

It would be, and soon.

“Juris thinks I should stay away from your place. I just removed Nota's car for processing.”

She glanced to the empty place where the car had been.

“That's good.”

“I can meet you somewhere if you want to talk to me. Or you can call me. Please call me if anything seems wrong.”

“I will.” Selena glanced toward the house. “I better go. Mia is waiting to start her run. We're down to one truck now.”

“I'll try to get yours back to you as soon as possible.”

She cast him a smile. “I'd appreciate that.”

“May I call you later?”

She cocked her head. Was she wondering if this was business or personal? With Selena it was always both.

“Of course.”

And then she lifted on her toes, angling to press a kiss to his cheek. But he turned to intercept the kiss, taking her mouth with his, giving her the kind of kiss usually reserved for the darkness. She relaxed against him, letting him deepen the contact. Suddenly the day seemed more spring than winter. He reluctantly eased back, brushing his lips over the soft skin of her fluttering eyelids and then holding her tight.

“What are we doing?” he asked.

“Catching bad guys,” she murmured.

“Oh, right.”

She released her hold and inched away. He let her go.

Gabe headed back to his freezing-cold vehicle as Selena disappeared into her house. The day was gobbled up with the two investigations and the barrage of the usual disturbances, including one domestic dispute with shots fired. There were numerous auto accidents because of black ice.

He finally dragged himself home, looking forward to having his grandmother fuss over him. Clyne was out, he knew, because it was Friday night and he had mentioned that he had plans to take a girl to a place in Salt River for dinner and dancing. Gabe wished he could take Selena dancing. Why hadn't he when he'd had the chance?

Work, he remembered. Always work.

Gabe called a greeting as he entered and was met with a banquet of aromas that set his stomach rumbling. He deposited his hat and coat by the door and found his grandmother busy in the kitchen. Glendora Clawson was an excellent cook and tonight she had outdone herself with a wonderful chicken-and-rice casserole that smelled delicious. His grandmother stood at the stove, flipping her fry bread so that the golden-brown side bobbed in the oil in the cast-iron skillet like a duck on water. At her elbow was a large plate draped in several paper towels, waiting for the next batch of hot bread.

No church function was complete without his grandmother's fry bread. The organizers of the annual Fourth of July rodeo had even tried to get her to set up a booth for the tourists, but his grandmother, now in her seventies, had declined, leaving that to the younger women in the tribe.

“Smells amazing in here,” said Gabe, dropping a kiss on his grandmother's soft cheek and stealing a piece of bread in a deft move.

She scowled and brandished the wooden spoon at him. “Those aren't for you.”

He already had taken a large bite out of the bread. That was when he saw the cooling apple pie and his ears went back. She didn't cook pies, except for special occasions.

“Who's coming for dinner?”

“No one.”

“Is Clay back?”

“He's in court Monday. You know that. He and Isabella are taking a long weekend. Do her good to get away from her herd for a bit.”

The adoption hearing. He must be more tired than he realized.

“Who's the food for, then?”

“The Chee family.”

Gabe lost his appetite and the warmth that always came from his grandmother as much as from her kitchen. She was cooking for the gathering after tomorrow's funeral—of course.

His grandmother glanced his way and seemed to sense his sorrow.

“Guess who I saw at the clinic today?” His grandmother had begun volunteering two days a week at the Apache health clinic.

Gabe ran through all the people who might be at the clinic. It was a long list, but his mind latched on to one particular name and he felt his chest constrict.

“Ruth Dosela,” Glendora announced, confirming his guess. His grandmother made a small
tsk
ing sound. “Poor thing is skinny as a rail. She's just started another round of chemo and her hair hasn't even grown back from the last time.

“Oh, I was telling them about how you had gone on up there to South Dakota to find your little sister. How you used your detective skills to track her down and find the man who rescued her from the car. How she got lost in the foster-care system and was alive all this time, even though we didn't even know it, poor little lamb. I can't wait to get my hands on her. I've finished the beading on her ceremony dress. I'll close those seams on the side when I see how big she's gotten. Wait until you see. Oh, it's beautiful, if I do say so myself. Yellow as corn pollen. I think I used every ribbon from here to Phoenix on the yoke. Now I've got to work on the moccasins.”

There might not even be a ceremony because they didn't have custody of their sister and might never get it. But he knew better than to suggest that scenario to his grandmother. She was determined that this would happen and was acting accordingly. At least they knew that their sister was alive and well. And if Clay was successful, they would know more about where she lived and who had adopted her. And Jovanna would soon know who she really was. An Apache of the Black Mountain Tribe.

“Ruthie offered to bring food to the ceremony, which is good. Give her something to look forward to.”

“You invited them to the ceremony?” Gabe couldn't keep the shock from his voice. He was so good at keeping his stone face at work, but his grandmother knew just how to stir him up.

“Of course. I've invited them. They were almost family. When are you going to ask that girl out again?”

“Grandma, she gave back my ring.” He found himself touching the medicine bundle that always hung about his neck. Inside were many sacred objects including the diamond solitaire she had returned that awful day. “
She
broke the engagement. Remember?”

“Of course I remember. I also remember how happy you both were until you were testifying in federal court against her father.
Of course
, she tried to return the ring. You didn't have to take it.”

“Yes, I did.”

“You haven't seen any other girls.”

That was not true. He just had not brought any of them home to his grandmother's table because that was just a whole different level of seeing a woman.

In the past few months, both he and Clyne had become a great disappointment to their grandmother. Everything had been just fine until Clay and Kino had settled down. Now his grandmother had ramped up the pressure to get him and Clyne wed.

The only thing she spoke about more often was the return of Jovanna, but that was something on which they all agreed.

“Well, one thing I know for certain. You'll never find a girl in that police station or your police cruiser.”

Gabe changed the subject. “Any word from Clay?”

“I forgot you slept in the station last night. Yes. He did it! The judge ordered the adoption opened. He's hoping we'll have the name of the mother and some details on Jovanna within the week. The judge gave them seven days, and Clay's attorney says they will use every bit of it.”

“Does that mean we can see her?”

“Not yet. But soon.” His grandmother clasped her hands together. “I'm so excited. I cannot wait to get my hands on that girl.”

When Gabe stuck his head in the refrigerator, his grandmother took pity on him, heating a bowl of chili to go with his half-eaten piece of fry bread. Gabe ate at the kitchen table as his grandmother cooked. When he finished his meal he announced that he was going to bed. She cast him a look of disappointment. Likely Clyne was spinning some pretty woman around the dance floor about now. Meanwhile, Gabe would be ironing his uniform for tomorrow's funeral service.

He wondered what Selena was doing. Was she home with her family or out on the town? Gabe drew out his phone. Before he knew it he had made the call.

“Selena?” he said.

“Mia. Who's this?”

Gabe drew a breath. “Gabe Cosen.”

There was a long pause.

“May I speak to Selena?”

“Um. I'll see if she's here.”

Gabe smiled. Their house was smaller than his grandmother's. Surely Mia knew if her big sister was home, but the white lie would give her time to ask Selena what to do. A moment later Selena said hello.

“Hi, Selena.”

“Hi.”

She sounded so good.

“What's up?” she asked.

“Is everything okay there?”

“So far. Is everything all right with you?”

He didn't know exactly why or what he said, but he told her about his day and about the funeral preparations. How there would be a motorcade before the flower car and about coordinating the service with the family and how his speech wasn't good enough to do justice to the loss or to the man Chee had been and might have become. He said his grandmother had made another casserole and he'd be at Chee's home after the funeral. Before he knew it he had told her that now he had to interview for a new man and that he'd never had to hire a new officer to replace a fallen one. Finally he told her about the ceremony this morning for end of watch. When at last he finished talking he was met with silence and he wondered for a moment if she was still there.