by Taylor Lee
Sucking in a deep breath, Sam faced the infuriated man. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mingan, and I’m not going to dignify your stupidity with an answer. I will only say that we have more issues to deal with than you can imagine. And, yes, they involve the DPD, not to mention the DEA, the FBI, and a few dozen other organizations. When you get your head out of your ass and are ready to have a strategic conversation, let me know. Until then, get the fuck out of my way.” She stopped her angry trek toward the precinct building and whirled to face him. Her voice was thick with scorn. “And, Mingan, don’t ever grab me like that again. You think Mackey here put on a good show yesterday? Try me if you want to see what a trained Krav Maga fighter can do when someone riles her. Or better yet, talk to the asshole I beat the shit out of the other night. And all that guy did was call me dirty names.”
Sam marched up the steps to her office and slammed the door behind her. She wasn’t surprised that she was shaking. She’d known that Mingan was a loose cannon and that she needed to reel him in. But it was his accusation about the scene at the Pit Stop that had her leaning against the door, clinging to the doorknob to keep her balance. Jesus God, were people really saying that Jake had held her on his lap and fed her? While she knew that wasn’t true, it didn’t help that it was damn close. She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to shut out the memory. She wondered what Mingan would have done if he’d seen Jake saying good night to her. Fortunately, he wouldn’t have been able to see her reaction. Or, thank God, to know that she’d spent the better part of the night trying to stifle the untoward sensations strafing her body at the memory of the powerful commander pressing her against the wall.
“Are you okay, Chief Delgado?”
Sam looked up to see Kate Fleming standing in the doorway, a concerned frown marring her pretty face. When Sam started to remonstrate, Kate shook her head and said fiercely, “Don’t bother saying ‘it was nothing,’ Sam. I saw what Mingan did and so did a lot of other people. Why do you think that Bobby Mackey came over to pull him back? Plus, girl, look at your arm. You already got a bruise.”
Sam held up her hands to disagree, but pulled back at the Kate’s obvious concern. Rubbing the sore place on her arm, she admitted that she likely would have a righteous bruise. She appreciated Kate’s concern. She had damn few friends on the rez and none of them were women. Kate was different. From the moment Sam arrived, the brazen young woman had approached her and said that not only did Sam need a good assistant to run her office, but that she, Kate Fleming, was the right person to do it. As it turned out, Kate was right on all counts. Within a week, Sam was thanking her lucky stars that the fiery young woman had imposed herself on Sam. Not only did she run a tight ship, but she protected and defended Sam from the majority of the tribe who thought that a female police chief was a questionable choice. Most of them whispered behind her back and sometimes to her face that she never would have gotten the job if she weren’t Chief Lighthorse’s granddaughter. Which Sam admitted was true.
Lately at night, when she was having Jameson on her deck, Kate and her husband Will Fleming, a good-looking, half-breed Indian, would join her. She and Will didn’t talk much, letting the voluble Kate fill the silences. Given her lack of companionship, Sam admitted they were some of her best evenings.
“Thanks, Kate. You’re right. Mingan is getting out of control. I need to pull him back.”
Kate’s eyes twinkled and she said with a saucy grin, “Well, it’s no secret that the bad boy is lusting after you. Is it any wonder Mingan’s a little defensive when it comes to the commander?”
At Sam’s frown, Kate’s grin widened. “Come on Sam, you must know everyone on the rez is talking about how Commander Jake Justice is becoming a frequent visitor here.” She held up her hand when Sam started to protest.
“Uh-uh, girl. I can tell you, we’re used to seeing DPD officers on the rez but the commander himself? Nope, that seems to coincide with the fact that we have a new police chief.”
****
“Thanks, Mark, and you too, Henry, for going to the DPD with me today. God, I still can’t believe what happened there. If what Jake and that DEA prick said is even close to true, we are dealing with an issue that frankly, I hardly knew existed.”
Sam stopped pacing long enough to face the deputies who were sitting at the conference table, concerned frowns on both of their faces. “Tell me, Mark, did you know that the cartels were eyeing the rez? If so, why didn’t you tell me? Jesus, guys, I’m not stupid or blind. I know we have a meth problem on the rez and that it’s getting worse. We’re losing more and more people to it every day, including kids.” She shook her head and planted her hands on the edge of the table and glared at the two silent men. “But for God’s sake, the cartels? How can that be happening and I not know anything about it?”
Mark Staples answered first. “Look, Sam, you’ve only been here for a couple of weeks. You’ve had a hell of a lot of things to learn about the rez since you arrived. I know you spent time here when you were a kid and that you’ve visited your grandfather over the years. But Crow Lake is changing—like all the reservations are.” He held up his hand when Sam started to interrupt. “Hear me out, Chief. Trust me, I’m not being critical. I know you came here loaded for bear to right the wrongs facing our people. I’m glad you’re determined to make a difference and you’re going to make a great police chief. But what happened today is a good thing. We needed to have that meeting. Meth is about the biggest issue tribes all across the country are facing. It’s not only our kids that are using the shit. Hell, grandmothers are. You just haven’t had a chance to get your teeth into the issue. And, yeah, I’ve heard rumors about cartel interest, but the statistics that DEA prick flashed on the screen shocked the shit outta me.”
Before Sam could respond, Henry added, “Mark’s right, Chief. We all know it’s a problem. Every day we’re losing whole families to that crystal poison. Frankly, we shouldn’t be surprised that the big boys are sniffing around. They’re always on the alert to find a soft spot and use it to build their empire. I gotta tell you, I’m damned glad that Jake Justice and his brothers are on to it. If anyone can keep them from taking over this territory, it’s those brothers. You don’t know them like we do. I’m telling you, no one except assholes like Mingan and his sorry followers doesn’t respect the Justice brothers, especially Commander Jake Justice.”
Sam resumed her pacing, not wanting to acknowledge the truths her solemn deputies alluded to but were kind enough not to raise directly. Of course, she knew about the meth menace facing Native people across the country. Everyone was opposed to meth but like too many others, Sam had relegated it to a personal tragedy, an addiction caused by the bleak lives many Native people faced. But it hadn’t climbed to the top of her concerns because it hadn’t been a sticking point between the tribes and other law enforcement agencies. Which was why she’d been blindsided by the assertion that the cartels were focusing on the reservations.
Remembering Agent Reynolds’s contention that the cartel challenge was a national and international challenge beyond the purview of the tribes, her interest piqued. It suddenly occurred to her that if ever there was an issue that screamed jurisdictional uncertainty, the meth menace was it.
Sam faced her deputies and raised the opportunity that she was beginning to recognize. “I just realized that the cartel threat raises some interesting questions that go to the heart of the legal challenges we’ve been facing. For example, can that imperious asshole, Special Agent Reynolds, come on the reservation if he thinks he has evidence that the cartels are involved?” She continued, her voice rising with excitement. “Or, does the DEA, or the DPD, for that matter, have the right to arrest meth users or possible dealers if they’re Native people and the crimes are committed on the reservation? At least in my mind, the answers to those questions are open to interpretation.”
Seeing Mark and Henry’s consternation, Sam tried to make them understand. “I know you think that I’m t
oo focused on jurisdictional issues and looking for ways to challenge the system. You’re right, I am. But I truly believe if we aren’t willing to take on these challenges and fight for our rights, we will never get justice.”
Henry spoke carefully. “You may be right, Chief, but in my view we’ve got more immediate problems to deal with. I know you and Mingan are friends and that you agree with a lot of Mingan’s views about Native rights. But I’m increasingly concerned about him and that radical gang he runs with. At least in my view, he’s beginning to move beyond militancy to outright violence.”
“What do you mean, Henry? I know Mingan is intemperate and given to excess. But I’ve never thought of him as violent.” Even as she said it, Sam couldn’t help but rub her arm that was still aching where he twisted it. The way Henry’s frown darkened when he saw her gesture confirmed that he, and likely Mark, had seen Mingan’s attack. She was about to defend Mingan when Henry continued, confirming what she’d just heard from Kate.
“Look, Chief, Mark and I, along with half the men on the rez, saw Mingan try to drag you out of the Pit Stop last night. We all know he hates the Justice brothers, particularly Jake, and the DPD. But if you’d heard the shit he was slinging after Jake scared him off, you’d understand why we’re concerned. He wasn’t just blowing smoke out of his ass, he was making outright threats.”
After Mark and Henry left, Sam sunk into her leather desk chair. She dug her fingertips into her aching temples and blew out a hard sigh. Neither Mark nor Henry was given to exaggeration. She owed it to them and to herself to consider their warnings. If she were honest she’d admit that Mingan worried her. In the beginning, their shared belief that Native rights were being trampled had attracted her to him. She’d liked Mingan’s intensity and that of his admittedly radical band of followers. Their dogmatic, black and white outlook reflected her uncompromising worldview. But seeing her deputies’ concern, Sam admitted that she needed to get Mingan under control. She also admitted that in her mind one if the biggest issues was that Mingan and his tough followers were beginning to attract young girls to their gang. Acknowledging the inevitable attraction of bad boys to inexperienced young girls, Sam knew that naïve girls, drugs, and gangs were a slippery slope to prostitution.
All her life Sam had watched beautiful little girls reach puberty and before you knew it, they were off to the big cities. On all the reservations that Sam had been associated with there was a virtual prostitution pipeline from the rez to the big cities, fueled by the ever-present pimps. Captured by the lure of easy cash promised by the pimps that prowled the reservations looking for fresh meat, the young girls inevitably ended up in the harsh, insidious world of prostitution. That was why she’d been trying to connect with the Crow Lake girls to see if she could interest them in her lifelong mission to raise feminist awareness. Unfortunately, thanks to insights from Kate Fleming and other concerned women, primarily mothers of teenage girls, she learned that Mingan’s gang was also trying to capture the teenagers’ allegiance. Watching from the sidelines, it was clear that Isabella Harper, one of Mingan’s most radical followers, had more pull than Sam did with a lot of the young women on the rez. Once again she was grateful that she had Kate Fleming as a confidant. Kate had agreed that Sam was right to be concerned about the young girls.
“Damn, Chief, we know how vulnerable these girls are. Especially the pretty ones.” She shook her head in disgust. “God, were we that dumb when we were their age? I swear the badder the bad boy is, the more those naïve little girls light up. But don’t worry, Sam. I’m watching them close and will let you know when you need to crack down.”
Sam blew out a sigh, acknowledging how much more complicated her job was than she expected. She knew she owed it to Mark and Henry to listen to what they were saying, not only about Mingan, but about her intransigence on Native rights and how to right historical wrongs. Sitting with the powerful men at the table today, discussing an issue that was more than relevant to her people, had been an enlightening experience. It made the value of being a participant rather than an outsider worth considering. Granted, she’d gotten snarky, but that was due more to her need to establish herself as an important contributor rather than window dressing. And, let’s face it, testiness was a well-developed part of her MO. For sure, Agent Reynolds was an asshole, but apparently she wasn’t the only one who thought so. And damn, the information he had on the cartels was stunning. She admitted that it would have taken her years to assemble that complex level of intel. Even if she had it, the question would be how she could put it to best use for the Crow Lake Reservation or any of the other tribes. Maybe there was something to be said for cooperation after all.
Sinking back in her chair, Sam closed her eyes and acknowledged that the most surprising part of what could have been an overwhelming experience was having lunch with Jake and his team. Once she’d allowed them to scale an inch or two up her formidable ramparts, their easy camaraderie and wicked banter had charmed her. She’d almost felt as though she belonged. But the very best part of the day, and what had her questioning her “go it alone” attitude about everything from issues on the rez, to allowing men in her life, was a tall, gray-eyed man with a commanding presence and easy smile. A smile that she’d learned could darken with intensity and send unexpected shivers up her spine, not to mention vulnerable regions below.
Chapter 10
“Are you saying that he intentionally hurt her?”
Jake struggled to control the anger flooding him at Bobby Mackey’s description of Mingan’s attack on Sam. Both Hailey and Skylar told him that an angry Indian man had accosted Samantha when they dropped her off at the reservation. Jake had been concerned enough at their recital to put in a call to their undercover agent. Mackey confirmed that the hotheaded gang leader had indeed grabbed Sam hard enough to alarm him.
“Not sure that I can say he intended to hurt her, dude, but he sure as hell wanted to get her attention. When I saw him confront her, it was provocative enough that I joined the fray. Not that the chief can’t take care of herself, but I wanted Mingan to know that a whole lot of people had seen him grab Chief Delgado and shout at her. You’ll be glad to know that the chief promised him that if he ever did that again, she’d beat the shit out of him.”
Jake wished he could laugh at Mackey’s impressed amusement at Sam’s chutzpah. Unfortunately, from past altercations with Mingan Yazzie, he knew the gang leader was an explosion waiting to happen. A year ago he’d thrown Yazzie in jail pending a rape investigation. Within hours, the presumed victim recanted and refused to press charges. Jake knew that Yazzie was guilty. But when the young woman, who’d been covered with bruises and a split lip, insisted that her injuries were the result of falling down the stairs, he’d had to release Mingan. When Jake asked why she’d made the rape allegation if it wasn’t true, the sixteen-year-old had insisted that Mingan had dissed her and she wanted to get back at him. Mingan screamed racial discrimination, insisting that he was arrested because he was an Indian who had the audacity to hook up with a white girl.
That incident, along with a host of other clashes and barroom brawls on and off the rez, put Mingan in Jake’s crosshairs. Which was fitting, because the militant gang leader had made it clear that Jake was in his.
“What can you tell me about Yazzie’s relationship with Sam?”
“Hell, Jake, what do you think it is? Like every red-blooded male between the ages of fourteen and eighty, he’s hot for her. If anyone understands that, you do.” Mackey’s teasing tone hardened. “The problem with Yazzie is that hotheaded doesn’t begin to describe that violent son of a bitch. He’s radical to the core. Add to that the fact that the person he hates as much as he lusts after the chief is you. He accused her of letting you ‘haul her onto your lap and feed her’ at the Pit Stop the other night.”
Jake snorted. “That’s not quite true, but close enough.”
Mackey chuckled, then spoke more seriously. “Look Jake, everyone at the rez heard some v
ersion of that story. Christ, you’d think that Brad and Angelina had hooked up again. The folks on the rez who like you—and, buddy, that’s by far the majority of people here—were excited about it. But there’s a faction led by Yazzie that was far from pleased. The idea that their most prominent leader might be interested in the Dark Knight himself has them screaming for justice. No pun intended, bro. In fact, that bunch would feed your balls to a pack of wolves for an evening’s entertainment. At least that’s what I picked up from Yazzie’s tirade after you shut him down at the Pit Stop.”
Jake ran his hands distractedly through his hair, tousling it even more than usual, and pressed Mackey. “Mark Staples and Henry Jones are two stand up guys. Did they see the altercation between Yazzie and Sam?”
“They must have. Yazzie grabbed the chief hard enough that he left a righteous bruise on her arm. I understand from chatting it up with Yazzie’s sycophants that Henry Jones had the cojones to take Yazzie aside and tell him that assaulting a woman on the rez is the act of a coward and won’t be tolerated. But assaulting the tribal police chief was an act so stupid it was tantamount to a mouse thinking that the mountain lion that had it by the tail didn’t intend to kill it.”
****
“Hi, Sam. Or do you prefer that I call you Chief Delgado?”
“No, Commander Justice, I don’t insist on my formal title except from assholes like Special Agent Reynolds. At least at this moment, I haven’t relegated you to asshole status.”
Jake was gratified to hear the saucy amusement in her voice confirming that while she insisted on being called by her professional name in most circumstances, he’d managed to get to a less formal place when it was the two of them.
