by Taylor Lee
Mark nodded. “Now that I think about it, you’re right, Henry, and you are too, Chief. I was surprised when Mackey pulled Mingan back after he accosted you. I was glad he did but even at the time, I was surprised. For someone new to the rez, he’s making his mark. Hell, if even Mingan listens to him, he’s a persuasive guy.”
Sam nodded in agreement. “I’m probably overreacting because of the things John Thompson warned me about. But Mackey bears watching. If he can contain Mingan and his writhing followers, that’s a good thing. But if he’s working his way into their gang for more nefarious reasons, we need to know.” She blew out a hard breath. “Watch him closely. See who he associates with. Is he always with Mingan? If not, where else does he go? And Mark, see what you can find out about where he came from. If it’s from another reservation, I want to talk to their police chief.”
After her deputies left, Sam was glad she’d shared her concerns. She knew she was likely being paranoid, but Mackey was almost too smooth. And his rapport with Mingan’s gang was a red flag no matter what it meant. Anyone associating with Mingan was suspect. Although in a million years, she’d never figure Mingan as a drug dealer. He was too racially charged to do anything that damaging to fellow Indians. On the other hand, he was a loose cannon and could be easily convinced by a sophisticated entrepreneur broker. Particularly if that broker professed as violent a hatred of Jake Justice as what Mingan espoused.
That night she was nursing a Jameson on her deck when she heard a knock on the door. Henry Jones was in the doorway, looking even more troubled than usual.
“What’s up, Henry? You look like you chowed down some rotten venison, or worse, bad booze. C’mon in, and have some of mine. I can vouch for it. Jameson goes down smooth and makes the shittiest days bearable.”
Henry sunk onto on the deck chair and took a large swallow of the Jameson she handed him. The worry lines that were always on his dark brown face seemed more deeply etched if possible. He blew out a hard breath then faced Sam head on.
“This may be nothing, Chief, but I don’t think so. I’ve been on Mackey like ugly on an orangutan. I’ve been following him so close I know when he shits and who wipes his ass for him. But fuck it all, it may have been worth it.”
When Henry stopped to take a swallow of his booze, Sam couldn’t hide her impatience. “C’mon, Henry, don’t make me beg. What did you find out?”
Henry nodded and put down his glass. “Okay. You’re not going to believe this. It’s big, Chief. I know it is.”
Sam grabbed his arm and shoved her face next to his. “Henry, so help me God, if you don’t tell me what you have, and tell me now…”
Henry ran a nervous hand over his sweaty brow and met her impatient gaze. “Sorry, Chief.”
At Sam’s tightening grip on his arm, Henry said, “Okay, here goes. I was sitting in my truck over at the Pit Stop and saw Mingan and his yokels surrounding Mackey. I was in the shadows and I know they didn’t see me. I slunk down as low as I could go but kept my window down. As usual, Mingan was foaming at the mouth, spittin’ out his usual shit about how much he hated Commander Justice and that he was going to get him if it was the last thing he did. Mackey grabbed him and shoved him up against a truck beside them.”
At Sam’s impatient gesture, Henry nodded. “I’m getting to it, Chief.” Henry swallowed, his Adam’s apple bulging in his throat as he met Sam’s frowning gaze. “I’m telling you, Mackey was cool as a glacier in hell. I had to strain to hear what he said. Even then, I could hardly believe what I was hearing.”
Forcing herself not to shake the clearly agitated man, Sam spit out the command, “What. Did. Mackey. Say, Henry?”
Henry nodded. “He said, ‘Look Mingan, the big boys would chomp Jake Justice for breakfast and not even belch. To them he’s a cipher. But I agree with you. If anyone can stop us it’s that Justice prick. Don’t know how much Shakespeare you know but the best advice I ever heard originated with the bard. When you shoot at the king you better be goddamned sure you don’t miss the fucker. And if ever there was a king in this kingdom, it’s Jake Justice.’ ”
Henry’s expression hardened. “Then Mackey pulled Mingan closer to him and said, ‘Since we all agree that if we’re gonna take over the rez, that particular king needs to bite the dust, it’s gonna take a hell of a lot of preparation.’ I didn’t hear what he said next because they all moved into the Pit Stop. But it was clear that Mackey is calling the shots, literally. And Mingan and his stooges are all creamin’ their jeans, they’re so excited.”
Chapter 12
Sam spent the next fifteen minutes dragging every bit of information out of Henry that she could. She didn’t try to hide her excitement. God, without trying she’d spotted a possible cartel member who was about to make a move on her rez and on the commander of the DPD. She gave a harsh laugh. Fat chance. Like she would let that happen to either one of them. She should have been offended that Mackey and Mingan thought the only person who could stop them was Jake. At one level she was pissed as hell that none of the badasses saw the tribal police chief as a threat. She consoled herself. The fact they’d ignored her, completely underestimated her, would make her victory sweeter.
After they’d updated a flabbergasted Mark Staples, Sam glanced at her watch.
“Meet me at oh one hundred hours at the crossing. Bring Shorty, Mac, Pete, and Rick with you. We need that many men in case he resists arrest. We’ll wait until he goes beddy-bye, then we’ll go in and get him.”
Mark was cautious. “I dunno, Chief. Maybe we should step back a moment. Much as I hate to say it, this might be a good time to involve Jake and his men. Not that we can’t arrest Mackey, but…”
Sam glared at him. “But what, Deputy Staples? Are you telling me that we need the fucking DPD to arrest a man on the Crow Lake Reservation? A Native man at that?”
Mark shook his head. “Of course, we can, Chief. It’s just that after our meeting the other day, I thought we were gonna work with Jake and his guys, hell, even with that DEA asshole. You know, collaborate. This seems like it might be the perfect opportunity to.”
Placing her hands on her hips, Sam squared off with the frowning deputy. She didn’t couch her anger. “I repeat, Officer Staples. What exactly do you want us to do? Wait until the real police arrive? Step back and let Jake and his guys get the credit for busting a possible cartel move on our rez?”
Her voice rose. “Do you realize how important this is, Mark? Not only are we preventing the big boys from getting a toehold on the rez, but we, the tribal police of the Crow Lake Reservation, are the force that is stopping them. We’re sending a message to the drug dealers and to the boys in blue. Hell, yeah, we’ll cooperate. We’ll be the most collaborative little red-skinned coppers they could ask for. What we won’t do is act like a bunch of pussies and call on our big Anglo brothers to come on our reservation and make an arrest that we can and should make on our own.”
Mark blew out a hard sigh and put up his hands in defeat. “It’s your call, Chief.”
“Yes, Deputy Staples, it is.” Sam pressed her lips together in a thin line and looked at her deputies. “Know this, men. Mr. Mackey is about to find out what happens to renegade Indians who think they can come onto the Crow Lake Reservation and take over. He doesn’t know it now, but he will soon. He’s met his match.” She added with a satisfied smile, “As will our collaborative brothers.”
****
Sam glanced at her cell phone and saw a text from Jake. Can you come to my office? Something important has come up and I need to talk to you. A minute later her phone buzzed. It was Jake.
“I wanted to make sure you saw my message, Sam.”
“I did, but there’s a lot going on here. Can it wait?”
“No, it can’t. And, Sam, if you will, please come alone.”
Sam was surprised. “Not with Mark or Henry?”
“No. I need to talk with you.”
Sam glanced at the time and wasn’t surprised that it was al
ready nine o’clock. She, Henry, and Mark had questioned Mackey until five o’clock in the morning. They’d single-teamed, double-teamed, and several times, triple-teamed him. Five grueling hours later, she called for a break and had her men put Mackey in a cell to wait for the next interrogation round. Sam conceded that Mackey was the coolest, most nonchalant perp she’d ever grilled, and the least forthcoming. After a four-hour non-stop interrogation without so much as a bathroom break, he’d given them three things. His name, his address, and “no comment.”
Sam was preparing to leave when Mark came into her office. He raised an inquisitive brow. “You going somewhere, Chief? I was just about to bring the perp back to the interrogation room. Assumed you were ready to ride the fucker.” He added with a disbelieving shrug, “Let’s hope we make more progress that we did during the night. I gotta tell, you, that is the coolest motherfucker I’ve ever seen. Christ, he didn’t even look tired when I parked him in the cell. Henry said he’s lying on the cot readin’ a damn book that Kate gave him from the prison library.”
Sam quirked a nonchalant brow. “Fine, I’m in no hurry. We’ll keep him there as long as it takes to break him. And we will break him.”
Shrugging on her jacket, Sam shoved her Glock into her boot holster and reached for her Stetson. “Commander Justice needs to see me. I shouldn’t be long.”
“Do you want me or Henry to go with you?”
“No, Jake said he needed to talk to me alone. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back and we can start the interrogation. Don’t let anyone visit him, Mark. Particularly any of Mingan’s gang.”
As Sam drove the short distance to the DPD precinct building, she marveled at her energy. God, she should be exhausted. Instead she was elated, riding a tumultuous sea of adrenaline-amped excitement. She’d decided as soon as she saw Jake’s message that she wasn’t going to tell him about Mackey. No way. Not until she had a signed confession and the perp was singing like the canary in the mineshaft would she tell Jake about her upcoming coup.
****
Expecting to meet with Jake, Sam was startled when Marjorie Carter, Jake’s desk sergeant, led her to the conference room. When she entered, she saw to her surprise that Solly Solberg, Jared, and Jude were sitting at the conference table. Jake was at the head of the table. All four men stared at her when she entered. The only thing more ominous than their silence was the expressions on their faces. To a man, every one of them looked serious, frighteningly serious.
Jake rose to his feet and pointed to the chair on the side of him. “Please sit here, Chief Delgado.” He added without smiling, “If you don’t mind, I’ll pull it out for you.”
Sam nodded and moved toward the chair Jake indicated. The absence of a scintilla of humor in his frowning gaze alarmed her, as did the expressions of the other men.
As she settled into her chair she turned to Jake. “Is something wrong?” Knowing that was a ridiculous statement at best, she changed her query, forcing her voice not to shake. “What happened, Jake? Something is obviously wrong.”
Jake gave a loud sigh. “Yes, Chief Delgado, something is definitely wrong.”
Surprising her, Jared broke in. “If you don’t mind, Commander Justice, I’ll tell the chief.”
Jake shrugged in assent.
“Bobby Mackey is the problem, Chief Delgado.”
Sam couldn’t hide her shock but managed to stammer, “I…I don’t understand. What about Mackey?”
“To begin with, you arrested him.”
Not understanding, Sam turned away from Jared’s accusing stare and looked to Jake. Expecting his support, she was surprised to see that his gaze was as stern as Jared’s. Galvanized by his accusatory silence, she whirled on Jared. “What business is it of yours? Moreover, how do you know I arrested him?”
“Because he told me.” He added quietly, “He’s ours, Chief Delgado.”
Not understanding, Sam stammered, “What…do you mean, yours?”
“He’s my UC. We needed someone we could trust on the rez to figure out who’s working with the cartel.”
Wrestling with what Jared was saying, Sam tried to grasp the fact that Bobby Mackey, the man sitting in her jail, was an agent. The DPD’s agent. Swallowing hard to allow air to seep into her parched lungs, Sam repeated, “Bobby Mackey is an agent? An undercover agent?” When Jared nodded, Sam continued. “And you…you put him on my reservation…without…”
When she didn’t finish her sentence, Jared simply nodded again. Grappling with the enormity of the situation Sam forced herself to breathe. The DPD, make that Detective Jared Justice, had placed an undercover agent on the Crow Lake Reservation. Behind her back. The waves of anger beginning to swirl in her gut sharpened her voice. She swung on Jake. “Did you know?”
Jake narrowed his eyes further and nodded. “Yes. I ordered it.” His voice was as strained as his concerned expression. “Look, Sam, I know this is hard to understand. I take full responsibility. Jared’s known Mackey for years. He’s done excellent work for us in the past. He’s an accomplished chameleon. Being a full-blooded Cherokee gives him important credentials, makes it possible for him to blend in.”
Sam was surprised that she was able to answer in a relatively calm voice. Holding Jake’s frowning gaze, she said, “I see. Clearly, I should be pleased that when you decided to go behind my back and invade my sphere of influence and my home that you found an honest-to-God real Indian. How good of you. Heck, it could be worse. You could have used a wop, or hell, a Pacific Islander. They’re fat, dark-skinned, could even pass for an Indian. But no, elite cops that you are, you went for the real thing. A fucking redskin. At least that way you could ensure that the know-nothing tribal police chief wouldn’t guess that you had betrayed her.”
Jake’s eyes hardened and his jaw clenched. “That’s not how it happened, Sam. We planted Mackey before any of us met you.”
Sam rose from her chair and glanced from one to the other of the solemn men. Pressing her hands against the edge of the table to steady herself she said, “Maybe you hadn’t met me, but you sure as hell heard about me, hadn’t you?” She scoffed at Jared’s frown. “Tell me you hadn’t heard that an uppity, territorial bitch no one could get near became the Crow Lake Reservation tribal police chief. But that unlike her predecessors, this haughty bitch doesn’t fall to her knees before the real police and beg to suck their dicks.”
Not able to hide their startled amusement at her lewd assertion, Jared’s eyes widened and Jude’s lip quirked up at the corner. The only Justice brother who was decidedly not amused was their commander.
Jake’s voice was hard. “That’s enough, Sam. You know that isn’t how we viewed you. None of us knew you personally at that time.”
Sam laughed, a harsh ugly sound. “Why would that matter, Jake? You knew all you needed to know about me. It’s clear as black and white. Make that brown and white. I am an Indian woman and we all know what Anglo men think squaws are good for. Added to her race and gender, this particular feisty bitch thought she could be a cop. A fucking police chief, at that! Granted, it was on the rez, but even that was too much, wasn’t it? And then, that ridiculous, hair-brained woman believed that the big boys, the real policemen, thought that she was worthy of cooperating with them.”
By this time, Jake had risen to his feet. His steel gray eyes were granite hard, the crease on his cheek was deep, his voice was firm. “I said that’s enough, Sam. You know very well that is not how we think of you.”
She stared at him, then stepped back. A cold chill snaked up her back. She realized that it was even worse than she’d first thought. She’d believed that the tall, impressive man facing her had been interested in her. Why, he’d even invited her to a party, at his grandfather’s house, no less. A wave of nausea flooded over her. Grasping the edge of the table to keep from falling, she acknowledged what a fucking idiot she’d been. She’d actually thought that Jake Justice, the arrogant, handsome-beyond-belief police commander, was interested in h
er. Instead he was just keeping her tethered in the dark, where he could control her.
Sam didn’t recognize her voice. But given how hard it was to breathe, she knew the ragged tones were hers. Determined not to cry, she said as dismissively as she could, “You know, Commander, those middle of the night text messages and other overtures weren’t necessary. All you had to do was keep lying to me the way you do so well, and fucking asshole that I am, I probably would never have seen through you.”
Ignoring Jake’s advance, she turned to the frowning men sitting at the table. She was shaking so hard it was a wonder she could stand but she’d die before she let herself fall. Glaring first at Jude, whose narrowed gaze should have frightened her, then at Jared, whose dark, intense expression mirrored his brother’s, she scoffed. “Just so you know, you’re overbearing, privileged assholes. But if you think you’re getting Mackey back anytime soon, sorry boys, you’re mistaken. You can send in the whole goddamn Delta Force for all I care. I run the Crow Lake Reservation, and no one, including any or all of the fucking Justice brothers, is going to take my prisoner.”
She turned to leave but ran into a solid wall of muscle. Shocked that Jake had positioned himself in the doorway, she tried to shove past him. She should have been frightened at his fierce expression, but she was too angry to care. Glaring at her, he pointed to the door at the side of the room.
“My office. Now.”
His abrupt command fortified her. She scowled at him and raised her chin defiantly. Before she could speak Jake pointed again to his office door. His voice was dangerously low.
“That wasn’t a request, Chief Delgado. My office. Now.”
He grasped her arm firmly and led her toward the private room. Glancing over his shoulder at the men quizzically regarding them, he said quietly, “Chief Delgado and I need a few minutes in private. We’ll be back in ten.”
