The Warrior's Way (Apache Protectors: Tribal Thunder)

by Jenna Kernan

  “You know your turquoise,” she said.

  “Major biz here. Digging it, selling it at the rock-and-mineral shows. We go as far as Australia for shows. And we make jewelry.” He looked back over the rim to the blue river of turquoise that threaded through the dark stone. He pointed. “We derived our name from that vein of turquoise. It would be a shame to cut it all away. We do collect what erodes and you’d be surprised.”

  He followed the direction of her gaze as she glanced from the mineral vein down to Piñon Forks and then returned her attention to the opposite rim a mile up from where they stood, pausing on the yellow rim of rock. This was the narrowest section of the canyon. Here the walls became pinched so the canyon was wide enough only for the river that touched the cliffs on both sides. He always thought that this spot must have been a heck of a rapid before the dam.

  He tried to picture the surging torrent that once climbed far of the smooth walls and hoped he’d never see the water forced through that narrow gap.

  Now her attention flicked to the wide flood plain, where his rez had placed their major settlement, Piñon Forks, then lifted to fix on the Skeleton Cliff Dam.

  “That is really close,” she said, folding her arms before her. The gesture lifted the tops of her breasts so that he saw the mounds of firm tempting flesh over the scoop of her maroon blouse. His mouth went as dry as the cliff stone.

  She turned to him and opened her mouth to speak, then caught the direction of his stare. Her hands dropped to her sides. Her amber eyes and sinking brows sent a clear message of displeasure.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “I was about to say that the reservoir system in total is at a high-water point for the year. August rainfall set a new record and so a break in any of the dams would theoretically compromise the one below. If I was trying to destroy the system I would focus on Alchesay Canyon Dam because it’s the largest and holds back Goodwin Lake.”

  “Your cousin told us that the FBI presence is focused on that dam as well. But what if they hit this one? Skeleton Cliff Dam is very close to our land. It wasn’t even land before they dammed this river.”

  “Listen, with the force of that water and the speed, I have to be honest. If the dam goes, there would not be time to evacuate. And that break would carry enough water and debris to at least overflow Red Rock Dam below your lands. Likely Mesa Salado Dam, too.”

  “That one is above the Yavapi Indian Reservation.”

  “It would shut down the power grid for Phoenix.” Her hushed voice relayed the gravity of her thoughts.

  “Your cousin told us he can’t discuss the surveillance methods on the dam system, just that they do have eyes on all the dams, have taken preventative action and established rapid response for various scenarios.”

  “We do our job, Jack.”

  “So what steps do we take?”

  “Other than evacuate all low-land areas indefinitely, I can’t really offer suggestions.” She waved her hand toward the opposite rim. “Your best hope is to protect the dams.”

  “They aren’t our dams. We can’t protect them.”

  “We’re protecting them.”

  Jack sent a look her way that he hoped relayed his lack of faith in the government protecting his people—history was on his side on that one. She rolled her eyes, returning her attention to the flood plan.

  “Evacuate now,” she said.

  “We have nowhere to go.” She made a face. Then she shook her head and her voice took on a sarcastic edge. “Well, you could blow up that entire ridge up there. That would stop anything. Theoretically.”

  He’d never considered fighting an explosion with another one. But it could work.

  Her eyes rounded. “Jack, it was a joke. Just a stupid offhanded remark. You can’t blow up that canyon wall.”

  “I can’t. But you could.”

  Chapter Three

  “That’s crazy. I’m not blowing up anything. I’m here to advise you,” said Sophia. She was sweating now, but it was a cold sweat and her skin had gone to gooseflesh.

  One thing she knew with certainty—there was no way in hell she was ever, under any circumstances, doing anything that could affect the outcome of her fatal force investigation. Destroying federal land in a massive unauthorized explosion qualified.

  “No,” she said. “No way and hell no.”

  Jack’s smile told her that this wasn’t over and she felt like kicking herself for opening her big mouth. What if they did something incredibly stupid, like tried to blow that opposite wall and then they told her supervisors that it was her suggestion?

  “You can’t be seriously considering this.” She tried to make her voice reflect her incredulity, but instead there was a definite tremor.

  “I’ll consider anything that keeps my people from drowning.”

  “We’re protecting the dam system, Jack. You and your warrior society don’t have to do anything. This is federal land. All of it. It falls under federal jurisdiction.”

  He pointed toward Piñon Forks. “That’s Apache land and we will protect it as we see fit.”

  “I hope you like federal prisons, because that’s where you’re heading if you blow one single rock of this canyon. This is a wetland system. It’s crucial to the power grid and it’s beautiful.”

  “You have a better idea?”

  “That wasn’t an idea! It was a joke.”

  “How would you set the blasts, in your joke?” he asked.

  “You must think I’m crazy to answer a question like that. Besides you don’t have access to the kind of explosives you’d need.”

  “We have mining explosives, det cord, blasting caps and rolls of shock tubing.”

  He used the abbreviation for detonation cord, used to trigger explosions of the main charge and his knowledge caused her to lift her brows in surprise. “Turquoise mining,” he said, answering her unspoken question. “The community operation is mostly underground now, following the veins as they run deeper. Plus we have lots of smaller claims. My friend Dylan Tehauno has a really good one up there on Turquoise Ridge. Lots of blasting material here.”

  “If you are considering this, I have to report you.”

  He smiled as his eyes challenged her. “Just a joke. Like yours.” He glanced toward the west. The town below was already cast in shadows, but up here it blazed orange as the sun made its final descent.

  He sat on the canyon rim and glanced up at her. “Want to watch the sunset?”

  She sat beside him, close enough to feel the heat of his body but not quite touching him.

  “Turns the river into a ribbon of gold.” He pointed to where the river flowed a deep orange color that changed by the minute.

  “Jack, I’m in the middle of a fatal-force investigation. I cannot be involved in blowing anything up. This is a consult. Remember?”

  “Back to the investigation again. Why are you so worried? Did you screw up?”

  “No. I—well, I don’t think so. Maybe.”

  “You can tell me, Sophia.”

  She lowered her head, staring at nothing that he could see.

  “I’m a former US Marine. I’ve shot people before.”

  “That’s different.” She waved a dismissive hand. Then squared her shoulders and drew a breath. She was going to tell him and the realization filled her with both hope and terror.

  “Do you know that there is not one person in my office that has even discharged their weapon, let alone been engaged in a significant-use-of-force incident? Well, Mel drew on a pit bull but he didn’t shoot because he got over a fence in time.”

  “It happens to a lot of us,” he said again. “And if you can’t sleep or think or eat, that’s all just part of it. The crappy part, but it’s necessary. Eventually, you live with it. Mostly the memories stay down.”

  He sat beside her overlooking the river as the clouds changed colors before her eyes. Clouds, she thought. That meant more rains would be coming.

  “I shot a young Hispanic mal
e,” she said.

  He nodded. Saying nothing but somehow his silence encouraged her to continue.

  “Here’s what happened. I’m going to say it fast so I don’t have to think about it all night.” She drew a breath as if preparing to submerge in deep water, then let it out. “Okay, I was off-duty and in my new car. I had just leased a BMW, black, Two Series. I mean I just left the dealership and I got bumped. I considered that it was a scam and so I had my weapon out when I left the vehicle. The male driver told me to step away from my BMW. Actually he said, ‘Give me the keys.’ And then he called me a...well, it doesn’t matter. He demanded the keys and reached for something in his coat. I saw the handgun before I fired. He died at the scene.”

  Jack scratched his chin, feeling the stubble growing there. Seemed like a home run to him. She’d defended herself and from her version he saw no reason for her to worry.

  “Seems justified.”

  “But it wasn’t a handgun. It was a phone. He did have an unregistered handgun on his person. But that was not what he pointed at me. And he kept the phone pointed at me, even when he went to his knees.”

  “You think he meant to photograph the damage?”

  “I’ll never know.”

  “Sophia, he told you to give him your keys. There is only one reason to hit a new Beamer and then demand the keys. He was boosting your car.”

  “Probably.”

  Jack’s anger took him totally by surprise. He tried to understand why he was so furious at this unknown perp. And then it struck him. He’d be murderous with anyone who threatened her. How had she gotten under his skin so fast?

  She could have died and he would never have had a chance to know her. He wanted that chance. Trouble was, she didn’t. She had made it very clear that she could not wait to be out of here and back on the job.

  “Does he have a criminal record or history of stealing cars?”

  “I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything, and I don’t have access to the system. I do know his name. Nothing else yet. I’ve made my formal statement. I met with the union rep and our attorney. They gave me the protocol.”

  “Referral to mental-health professional?”

  “Sure. And contact with an agent who also had a deadly force encounter in Phoenix. But he was on a raid of a grow house and everyone inside was dirty and heavily armed. Not the same.”

  A grow house was a home, usually abandoned, taken over and converted to an indoor greenhouse to grow marijuana. The drug producers were often well armed and prepared to defend their crop.

  He said nothing. No one’s life experiences were the same, but all could be used to help every person find their path.

  The silence stretched as the first star, Venus, appeared in the western sky.

  “They’ve been investigating since Sunday. SAC said he’d keep me updated. He really hasn’t.”

  “SAC?”

  “Special agent in charge. He’s my liaison to the thirteen-member SIRG. That’s ‘shooting incident review group.’”

  “Really?” Thirteen seemed like overkill. But this was the FBI. He knew that their investigation would be exhaustive and in-house.

  “I haven’t heard anything since Thursday, when he told me the autopsy had been completed and that I should get my personal weapon back next week.”

  “Any results from the autopsy?”

  “He’s still dead.”

  Jack almost laughed, but reined it in. She looked so grim.

  “So what’s next?”

  “Interviews with the two witnesses. Photographs. Diagrams and the report by the administrative director of the office of inspections.”

  “That’s a real thing?”

  She cast him a scowl. “Of course. He’s chairman of SIRG.”

  “Supervising the cast of thirteen.”

  “Twelve, minus himself.”

  “I can see why you’re nervous.”

  “No. You can’t. Your shooter had fired at you. My shooter was pointing a camera. One of the witnesses also had a phone and may have taken a photograph or video.”

  “More evidence.”

  “Yes.”

  “You feel you made a mistake?”

  “No. But what matters is what SIRG thinks. If they rule my actions unjustified, I could lose my job. Everything.”

  There was a definite note of panic in her voice.

  “All the schooling, training, work...gone.” She snapped her fingers. “Like that. And I’m not going back...” Her words trailed off.

  Back where? To her reservation? He cast her a questioning look, but Sophia had clamped her mouth shut and laced her fingers so tightly in her lap her fingernails were going blue.

  Jack offered her the only thing he could think of. “You have his name. I can run him through our system.”

  Her eyes shifted to him.

  “You’d do that?”

  Jack didn’t say so aloud, but he’d do a lot more than that for her because despite knowing that she could not wait to put him and his tribe in her rearview mirror, he was desperately attracted to her.

  “I would.”

  She wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked back and forth. He lay a hand on her shoulder and she stilled and glanced up at him.

  “Thank you.” She placed a hand over his. It wasn’t until her hand slid away that he could breathe again.

  “Yeah. Don’t mention it. Name?”

  “Martin Nequam.”

  Jack asked for the spelling and she provided it.

  The light had changed again, casting the sky in bright fuchsia and red. He glanced away from her, taking in their surroundings.

  “It gets pretty dark up here at night,” he said. “And the road can be tricky. We’d best head down. Get you settled. And I want to introduce you to the others.”

  She followed him back to the SUV. “What others?”

  “The men of Tribal Thunder, Dylan, Ray and my brother Kurt. Carter, when he gets home. And Ray’s wife, Morgan.”

  “You’re not talking about the daughter of the man who murdered the Lilac gunman?”

  “The very same. Also Dylan’s fiancé, Meadow Wrangler.”

  “The Meadow Wrangler? As in, daughter of the murdered prime suspect and leader of BEAR.”

  “It’s her mom. Even Meadow says so.”

  “Interesting attack team. You have at least two members who might be working for BEAR.”

  “They’re not.”

  Sophia got back into his vehicle and clipped her seat belt, saying nothing to that. She would not be offering any more advice and she would sure as heck not be making any more jokes.

  “You wanted to be sure we weren’t alone.”

  “So instead we have a party.”

  “Planning committee.”

  “If you really feel threatened, then they should be planning an evacuation.”

  They drove along the road that was more switchback than straightway. The angle of descent was jarring and Sophia had to hold on to the handgrip above her passenger window to keep from jostling into Jack Bear Den, whose wide body spilled across the center console and into her personal space.

  She was not sure what to make of him. He was a detective, sworn to protect and serve. Did blowing the opposite ridge qualify? Only if he was right and the dam failed. But then there would be no time to set the charges. They would have to be placed early.

  Why was he so darn big? She was attracted to big, muscular men. Jack unfortunately ticked all the right boxes except for one—he was trying to get her mixed up in a career-ender. She’d worked too long and hard to get off the Black Mountain rez to jeopardize that. Having a career gave her money, respect and purpose, and it kept her from having to ever rely on the system to protect her.

  He held the wheel as he flexed his arm muscles and stretched, showing thick fingers nicked with white scars on the knuckles in the golden light of sundown. He had strong hands to match the rest of him.

  Sophia liked men, but she didn’t depend on
them. She glanced at Jack, his face now cast in shadows as they crossed below the line of sunlight. Sleeping with him would be dangerous, but perhaps the thrill would be worth the risk. As long as she remembered that after she toured the dam system, she was out of here and he was not coming along for the ride.

  Jack angled his head and shoulders, making his joints give a popping sound, without ever releasing the steering wheel.

  “We’ll be down soon.”

  The road did finally level out to a rolling pasture. He flipped on his headlights. They continued through the town. She glanced at the tribal headquarters, which had lights illuminating the great seal of his people. It featured the river, of course, the cliffs and a single sacred eagle above them both.

  They continued downriver as the sun set, and drove past the neat houses and fences that held the cattle. Cattle, ranching and rodeo were all a way of life for her people as well. Signs warned to watch for horses.

  “You don’t pen the horses, either?” she asked.

  “No. The river and canyon does that,” said Jack. “We’re just up here.” He slowed and turned onto a dirt road, lined with barbed wire on each side. She could see the cattle, dark shapes in the fields. The headlights made their eyes glow green as they passed.

  She lifted her phone and called her cousin, checking in as he requested. But she didn’t tell him about the misunderstanding about her flippant suggestion which the detective seemed to be seriously considering.

  Jack pulled off the main road and drove toward the river again.

  “This is the place where our medicine society gathers. It has a large outdoor meeting space, sweat lodge and fire pit. But most importantly for you, the tribe uses it for ceremonies, so we have several cabins on site. You’ll have a one-bedroom with working bathroom. Hot and cold water, too. I’ll take the one beside yours. Ray Strong has the one on your opposite side and Dylan Tehauno the one after that. Ray’s wife, Morgan, and her girl will be here for dinner, then she’s got to get their daughter back home. Lisa is Ray’s stepdaughter, actually. But Meadow Wrangler will be spending the night. Couldn’t keep her away.”