Jenna Kernan - Tribal Law

Gabe looked Apache—his brown skin, his broad forehead and his full, sensual mouth all spoke of his strength and lineage. But his hair did not. Unlike the rest of his brothers, he wore it clipped short. Perhaps to annoy his older brother, Clyne, the tribal councilman and family traditionalist. If possible, Gabe’s thick black hair and stylish cut only made him more attractive. Gabe had once been approached by the tribe’s casino promotion team, who wanted to use him in their ad campaigns. His brothers never let him live that one down. But they didn’t want Gabe because he was boyish, like his kid brother Kino, or handsome like Clay or distinguished like his older brother, Clyne. They chose him because he made women want to take him to bed.

And she was no better than any of the rest of them because she still wanted that, too.

He narrowed his eyes. “You sure you’re all right?”

She swallowed, released the wheel and gave him her stone face. The one her father said she didn’t have. The one all Apache girls practiced before their Sunrise Ceremony.

“Can I go now?” she asked summoning a tone of flat annoyance and thinking her voice still sounded like the whine of a mosquito.

Gabe stepped back but kept a hand on the open window. She kept hers on the crank.

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring him home,” he said. “I should have been the one there today.”

An apology? Selena’s mouth dropped open. Gabe Cosen was the most unapologetic man she knew, except for perhaps her father. Somehow his words had the opposite effect of what he had likely intended. Now Selena was not frightened. She was pissed.

“Well, you were there when he left, so that’s something.”

Gabe grimaced.

“If you need anything,” he said.

“I need to get going.” She lifted her brows to show her impatience and gave the crank a tug for good measure. It met the resistance of his gloved hand, but he released her door. He stood there studying her. She glared back. Why wouldn’t he leave? Her father couldn’t get back inside with him standing there and if he tried, Gabe would see him.

“Are we finished?” she asked. But she already knew the answer. They’d been finished for nearly five years and since then all their conversations had been brief, awkward and tense. But maybe not this tense.

He inclined his chin.

“Then get back to your car. It’s freezing out here.”

His brow lifted to show his surprise and she knew why. No one ever told Gabe Cosen what to do. No, this man gave orders. He didn’t take them.

“Please call me if you need me,” he said, using that infuriating, polite, professional tone.

She needed him every night. But she’d be damned if she’d call.

Gabe hesitated, waiting perhaps for her to reply or say farewell. She cranked up the window and placed her hands on the wheel, staring straight ahead. Finally, he withdrew, melting back and away from her.

She leaned across the seat but before she could open the door her father had it open and swept back into the cab.

“Go,” he said. “But not too fast.” Her father ducked down below the door so as not to be visible in the wide rectangular mirrors that flanked each side of the cab, the ones that gave her a clear view of Gabe returning to his police car.

She set them in motion, then glanced to the road and then back to Gabe. Then to the road. They had gotten away with it. She grabbed a breath of icy air.

“You missed our turn when he stopped us. Turn around. And get us out of here before he stops you again.”

Selena swung them around and caught a blur as Gabe flashed by her driver’s side window. Then he was behind her, hands on hips as he watched her taillights.

Just keep going.

“Uh-oh,” said her father, peeking at the side mirror.

Selena looked back to see Gabe had returned to the place where she had parked. He was studying the ground.

“He’s spotted my tracks,” said her father. “Drive faster.”

Chapter Two

Gabe Cosen watched Selena go and then returned to the tracks. The snow had started again and he knew that this was his best chance to get a good read. Like all of the men in his family, he had learned to read sign, which meant he could interpret the tracks of animals and men. He was adequate for an Apache, but his younger brothers, Kino and Clay, were much better.

The prints were from a large individual wearing moccasins. That was not unheard of, but most folks wore their tribe’s traditional foot gear only for hunting, ceremonies and dance competitions. The rest of the time they wore boots. He crouched beside the tracks and guessed at the person’s weight—less than two hundred pounds—from the place where the person had slipped en route to the front of the truck. Who had been in the cab with Selena and why didn’t that person want him to know?

His first thought was that Selena had found someone else. The white-hot fury at that prospect surprised him enough that he lost his balance and had to put a hand down to keep from toppling over. His break in concentration left the mark of his glove in the snow.

He’d know, wouldn’t he? If she had a date or was dating? The community was small and he kept closer tabs on Selena’s movements than he cared for her to know.

The second possibility for her unknown passenger broke through the mental fog he always felt around Selena and struck him like a rock slide. He stood and spun. The road was empty now. She had a good head start. He ran back to his unit. How long after the anklet alarm was triggered would he be notified? Someone from the Department of Corrections would have to call. They were monitoring her father, Frasco Dosela, or they were supposed to be.

He reached his unit as his phone rang. He would have sent the call to voice mail, but he saw from the caller ID that his uncle was calling. Luke Forrest was his father’s half brother, an FBI field agent and he was also Black Mountain Apache.

Gabe wondered if his uncle’s call was personal or business. He climbed into his unit. His wiper blades beat intermittently against the fine, powdery snow that continued to float down onto the windshield like confectioners’ sugar. Gabe swiped his finger over the screen, taking the call.

“Dagot’ee, Uncle,” Gabe said, using the Apache greeting. “What’s up?” Gabe flipped the phone call to his unit so he could talk while driving. Then he took off after Selena.

“Chief,” said his uncle, using his title instead of his first name. That meant this was a business call. Gabe didn’t have a lot of interaction with the Feds. Mostly he dealt with state police and occasionally the district attorney. But these were troubled times, and he had more business than he and his twelve-man force could handle.

His uncle sounded rushed. “Field Agent Walker and I are seeking permission to enter the rez.”

“You mean your new partner?” Gabe searched for Selena’s box truck. She must be speeding, because she’d vanished like smoke.

“That’s right. But I don’t think she will be my partner for long. That one is a firecracker. She’ll be in DC by June.”

Uncle Luke was a tribe member and needed no permission. As a Black Mountain Apache, his uncle could come and go as he wished. But his partner, Cassidy Walker, was not Apache. A white woman, from the Midwest he recalled. Federal agencies needed approval from the tribal council before conducting business on the rez.

“I’ll need a reason.” Gabe reached the fork to Wolf Canyon. He knew that Selena lived with her family up a side road that veered to the left.

Had she headed home or somewhere else? He didn’t know, but he followed his hunch and made the turn toward her house. If her father was the passenger, that would be their likely move.