Jenna Kernan - Turquoise Guardian

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

Jack grimaced but said no more. He’d been there to pick up the pieces after Amber had left. Carter wasn’t surprised that Jack was less than thrilled to have Amber back.

“Not again,” said Jack.

Carter met his brother’s warning with a glare of his own.

“She left. She didn’t write. She didn’t visit, not even after you were injured.”

“I saw her after I came home from the hospital.”

He hadn’t told Jack. A rare omission that clearly surprised his twin.

“But she left again.”

He couldn’t deny that. But he knew he’d shown her the door. He’d been so hurt and angry. Yeager had still been MIA, and his days were filled with horror and hope. She’d asked about Hatch Yeager.

What do you care, Amber? Really. You disappear for two years, and then you think I owe you answers. I don’t owe you a thing.

Carter met the disapproval in Jack’s words with a steady stare. “Yeah, she left again after I threw her out.”

Jack made a face. Carter couldn’t tell what his brother thought about that.

“Maybe she’s ready to come home,” said Carter.

And maybe he was ready to let her. After today that was at least a possibility.

Jack shook his head. “Maybe she had no other choice.”

Carter returned his attention to his brother, who raked a hand through his short brown hair. “What does that mean exactly?”

“She is a witness. They want her in federal custody.”

“We both saw him. He was at her boss’s house.”

“And her boss is dead, too. Everyone is dead but Amber.”

Carter didn’t like the way Jack said that, as if this were all somehow her fault.

“Can’t you just give her the message and forget about her?” Jack asked.

He’d never been able to forget about her. And oh, how he had tried. But even after all this time he wondered about what she was doing, thinking and if she missed him at all.

Could he?

He’d stayed away from her, but this was different. Because whether she would admit it or not, she needed him. He hated how much he needed that excuse to keep her close. He slipped both hands into his pockets, wishing he could give his brother the answer he wanted to hear and knowing he could not.

“I can’t,” said Carter.

Jack’s mouth went tight.

“Carter, I’m telling you this as my brother. Let her go.”

“Why?”

“Because Amber Kitcheyan isn’t just a witness. She’s also a suspect.”

“How do you know that?”

“They told my boss. She should never have left the office with those papers. Makes her look guilty as hell.”

“If she’d stayed, she’d be dead.”

Jack glanced toward the window and swore.

Carter followed the direction of his brother’s fixed attention. Amber was standing in the parking lot before the station alone.

Jack quirked a brow. “Still think she’s innocent?”

Chapter Five

Amber stepped from the concrete building that included tribal headquarters and the tribal police station and breathed deep.

The air smelled so different here. She’d almost forgotten the crisp clean taste and the moisture. There was water here. Back in Lilac the earth was scorched and parched and thirsty. The dust was everywhere on everything and everyone. She didn’t think she’d ever be clean again. Now she was. Standing here where she belonged.

Or had belonged.

Relinquished, they called it. Carter said it was irrevocable. She’d checked, of course, called the tribal council offices and asked if a tribe member who had relinquished their membership could reapply. The woman on the phone had been blunt. No, she had said. The decision is not like a reversible blanket. Relinquishment is permanent and irrevocable.

Amber added one more item to the list of things her father had stolen from her. And still he was her father and, as such, deserved to be honored. But not loved. He’d lost that along the way.

She thought of Carter, there when she needed him most, and found herself shaking her head in astonishment. He had a message from her uncle, his shaman. She wondered if the message he carried was from her mother or her father.

She set her jaw and breathed, the cool air calming her. What would she do now? She could not go home to her family or stay here on tribal land. She could not bear to go back to Lilac, knowing what had happened. She shivered, afraid of the ghosts of all the ones she knew, torn from this world in such a brutal and cruel way.

Carter would know what to do. He was always so sure of himself. So sure he did not need to ask her what was true, he just moved forward. Omnipotent. But that wasn’t love. It was some kind of possession. He had been too much like her father, and she would not have one more man controlling her. So she’d ended it. The decision had been hard but right. So why did it still hurt so much?

But oh, he was more handsome now than ever.

He had grown out his hair since his military service, and now he wore it loose and long, so it reached midway down his biceps, the strands shining blueblack in the sunlight as they’d flown in the chopper from Lilac. From her place lying on the gurney she could see him sitting beside his brother Kurt. Carter was a Hot Shot now, according to her sister Kay who sent her letters of the happenings on the Rez. Carter no longer wore his uniform, as he had the last time she had seen him. After three tours in the Middle East, he had been honorably discharged and relinquished the US Marine’s uniform for a pair of snug jeans. He wore them cinched about his trim hips with an ornate red coral and turquoise buckle and a soft chambray shirt that showed his muscular form. She wondered if Carter had made the ornament himself because he was a talented silversmith.

A Subaru SUV pulled into the station. She noticed it because such foreign cars were uncommon up here on the Rez.

The black vehicle circled the lot and came to a stop at the curb before her. The driver put the car in Park but didn’t shut down the engine. His passenger met Amber’s gaze, and a smile quirked his lips as he exited the vehicle.

He wore a gray blazer and dark slacks. His ashy brown hair was trimmed and a shade lighter than the closely cut beard. He looked vaguely familiar, but she did not remember where or when she had seen him before.

“Ms. Kitcheyan? Will you please come with us, ma’am?” He had a strong Texas twang in his speech.

Amber stepped back. He reached in his blazer, and she saw his shoulder holster and the black butt of a pistol. He drew out a leather cover and opened the case, revealing an FBI shield.

“I’m Field Agent Muir with the FBI. My driver is Field Agent Leopold. We’ll be taking you to the police station in Darabee to record your statements,” said the agent.

Amber slipped back as her eyes shifted from the agents and then over her shoulder to the station door. It seemed impossibly far. She did not want to go with this man but thought running would be embarrassing.

She glanced at Muir, trying to understand the deep dread congealing in her stomach.

“If you’ll step into the vehicle, ma’am.” Muir extended a hand, indicating the rear seat that lay behind dark tinted windows. She shivered.

“I can’t. They’re waiting for me inside.” She thumbed over her shoulder.

His smile looked more predatory than reassuring. And then it clicked. He wore a sports coat and pants. Not a suit. A sports jacket. She quirked a brow at that; it didn’t seem right.

“Ma’am,” he said again, his tone carrying a warning.

She didn’t hear Carter arrive, but heard him a moment later and turned as he spoke.

“What’s going on here?” Carter asked.

Muir showed his shield and repeated his request for Amber to step into the vehicle. His partner exited the driver’s side and rounded the fender, his hand on the pistol clipped to his hip. He looked remarkably like Muir, with dark brown hair and aviator glasses that covered his eyes. He wore an ill-fitting black suit that puddled at his loafers.