Eagle Warrior

by Jenna Kernan

  “You work for BEAR?” she asked.

  “See? You shouldn’t even know the name of that outfit. Bears are dangerous, child. So, I can safely report that you do know what organization hired your father.”

  “Because the FBI questioned me about them.”

  “And that I was hired by BEAR. You know any of their names?”

  She shook her head.

  “Not sure I believe you. I know they won’t. Skittish as cattle at a slaughterhouse, that group.”

  “But I don’t know them,” she said.

  “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that they think you know them. That you were your father’s confidante. They are aware of your visit to your dad the day he passed.”

  “He was unconscious,” said Ray.

  “Not all day. They have information. And you were both there. This group doesn’t take chances.”

  “But you stood by while they collected a great deal of explosives,” said Morgan.

  “That’s not true. I protected them. Transported goods and kept them all safe. Now I’m planning a retirement in Alaska. Should be far enough away to avoid the crater they’ll make. They have nearly unlimited funds thanks to all those bleeding hearts who want to restore the wild. They never show the blood on the claws of the tigers in the fund-raising videos or the elk with shredded hamstrings thanks to those newly reintroduced wolves.”

  “What are they blowing up, Jefferson?” asked Ray.

  “Don’t know. Don’t care. I’ve got enough money to get while the getting is good. Hope they blow up Las Vegas. I hate that wart on the desert. Or New York. Gray buildings. Cold and rainy most days, and when the sun comes out, it stinks like garbage. We’d be doing them a favor. Believe me. Don’t even get me started on LA. They’re pampered poodles with affluenza up the ying-yang. Spend $100 K to protect tree frogs and step right over the homeless veterans on their way to their limos.” Rowe spat.

  “So are you are here for the money or to see what Morgan knows?” asked Ray.

  “Both. Kind of a win-win.”

  “Your drone?” asked Ray.

  “Theirs. It’s a loaner. They have such cool toys. Been watching you two.” He rubbed the top of the barrel with an index finger in a shame-shame motion.

  Morgan’s cheeks flamed and Ray clamped his teeth so tight they squeaked.

  “And here I thought you were a nice girl,” he said to Morgan. “You turned me down a time or two at the casino.”

  Her eyes widened in remembrance. “You were at the casino the night before the shooting.”

  “That’s right. I’d handed your papa a big fat check a few days before and dropped by to see his little girl had quit her job yet. But you were still there. Made me think you two weren’t as close as I thought. He didn’t tell you about it before hand. Did he? Must have done that after because he’ll never live to spend it. But I sure plan to. Nice of him to cash that check for me.” He glanced at Ray. “Now, I figure the FBI is en route and Detective Bear Den is already on his way up the canyon. So I better scoot.”

  “He’ll see you coming down,” said Ray.

  “See me? Hell, boy, he called me for backup. Your tribal police only got three or four guys on duty on a good day. Plus I’m closer to the ruins than they are up in Pinyon Forks. I just got here sooner.”

  “How will you explain the money? I told him we found it.”

  “You think he’ll search me or look for your killers?”

  Ray knew the answer. Jack would take the lawman at his word and come searching. He hoped that Rowe didn’t plan to hurt Jack. He slipped his fingers around the grip of his knife, thinking he was running out of time. Funny, for a long time after he came back from Iraq he really hadn’t cared if he lived or died. The unnecessary risks told him he was leaning toward dying. But not now.

  Now death had found him and he wanted to live to protect Morgan.

  “Pull that knife and I shoot you first,” said Rowe. Then he turned to Morgan. “Drop the reins and step back.”

  She dropped the reins and stepped back. Rowe reached to take hold of the bridle as Morgan threw something. At first Ray thought it was a bit of rope, but as it sailed through the air, he recognized it as a headless rattlesnake.

  An instant later the Appaloosa’s eyes rolled over white.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Morgan dove back and rolled across the loose rock and sand, clearing the gelding’s flying front feet as he tried to stomp the headless snake. Chief Rowe was not so quick and one of the hooves clipped his chest, sending him staggering back. Ray drew his knife and headed at him on a run. Rowe landed hard on his seat, regained his balance and lifted his rifle, taking aim at Morgan.

  Ray threw his blade.

  Because Rowe was in profile, he could not aim at his black heart but the knife did sink deep into his right side, slicing between the ribs. Rowe’s shot went off target as he screamed and rolled to his uninjured side. Ray was on him a moment later, tearing the rifle from his grip and rolling to his feet above the writhing man.

  Frothy blood gurgled from Rowe’s mouth and Ray knew he had deflated his right lung. The chief of the Darabee police now breathed fast and shallow.

  “Now you’ve done it,” he said.

  Morgan collected Ray’s pistol and held it on Rowe, as well.

  “Might have at least saved your little girl, Morgan. Now they’ll use her as leverage to keep you quiet.”

  Morgan turned and ran toward Ray’s fleeing horse. Ray had no doubt that she intended to gallop all the way to her uncle’s home, if necessary, to get to her daughter.

  “We’ll tell them what you did,” said Ray.

  “Yeah. Go ahead. I’ll tell them you stabbed me while I was trying to apprehend you. That you found the money and it made you crazy.” A smile hovered on his bloody lips. “Crazier. You’ve always been crazy. Right, Ray? Plus you’ve got a criminal record. And Morgan is the daughter of an assassin, who just found her dad’s blood money. Who do you think they’ll believe? You or me?”

  Ray backed away, uncertain now. The FBI could arrest both him and Morgan because they should have reported the information they uncovered instead of setting out alone to find the money. At the very least, they had put her daughter in more danger because with both of them in custody, who would protect Lisa?

  “Well?” said Jefferson Rowe. “What are you waiting for? If I’m dead, you’re a murderer. Hard to explain away your knife in my side. So you better hope to Christ I don’t bleed out before they get to me.”

  Ray left him, scrambling after Morgan. He needed to get Rowe medical attention and he needed to get Morgan’s daughter to safety. It took a few minutes to collect the horses.

  The police chief might be right that the FBI would believe his lies. But there were two factors working in Ray’s favor. First, they were on Turquoise Canyon Reservation land and that meant that even the federal government had limited authority. And second, Ray had called Jack last night to report the progress of their search and again this morning to relay their discovery and the drone’s appearance. It was something Jefferson Rowe could not even imagine, that Morgan wouldn’t want even one dollar of that money. He had judged them on his belief system and Ray was ashamed that he had ever considered keeping what they had discovered.

  Morgan’s honesty might be the factor that swung the balance in their favor. Or that money might still get them killed.

  Ray took charge of the horses while Morgan bandaged Jefferson’s wound, leaving the knife in place to help slow the bleeding. It took both of them to get Jefferson mounted. Her horse was lame, so they left it behind. They took the packhorse instead, though his horse’s fall left Ray without a saddle. Morgan led them down and he took the position behind Jefferson.

  They met a party riding four-wheelers soon after they start
ed. Jack Bear Den lead the group, looking massive on the rugged recreational vehicle, wearing his familiar gray cowboy hat with the badge clipped to the ornate turquoise hat band. Behind him came three similar vehicles ridden by men and women dressed in a particular navy blue jacket with bold yellow lettering announcing that they were FBI.

  Ray dismounted and went to meet the welcoming party. Morgan fairly flew off her horse, dropping the reins to rush past him. She headed straight for Luke Forrest, the Black Mountain Apache and FBI field agent.

  “My daughter. You have to get her. Right now. Please.”

  Forrest glanced to Jack Bear Den.

  “Your daughter is already at the tribal police station.”

  Morgan didn’t know if she should be relieved or more concerned.

  “She’s safe,” said Forrest.

  Morgan drew the first full breath since coming down from the ruins.

  The other officers moved past them, heading for the wounded man who started talking fast and loud.

  “We’re taking these two back to Pinyon Forks,” said Forrest to his partner, Cassidy Cosen.

  “I thought we were going to Darabee,” said Cosen.

  “We stay on tribal lands for now,” said Forrest.

  “Darabee is closer and Rowe needs a hospital.” She turned to Ray. “Is that a knife in his ribs?”

  Ray admitted that it was not only a knife but his knife.

  “You are under arrest,” said Cosen.

  Forrest stepped in. “You accompany Rowe to the hospital,” said Forrest. “Check in with me on his condition. Put a protective detail on him and make sure he stays put until I get there.”

  “We should bring them all to Darabee,” said Cosen.

  Forrest shook his head. This man understood the protection afforded Apaches while on their reservation and that those protections would end the moment they set foot off their land.

  Cosen scowled but lifted her radio, calling for paramedics. Then she took charge of Jefferson Rowe, seeing him moved from the horse to the four-by-four. She and two of the agents disappeared back down the canyon.

  “Now,” said Forrest, “We have some questions.”

  * * *

  MORGAN AND RAY rode in Jack’s patrol car, preceded and followed by FBI.

  “They sure seem like they’re running the show,” said Ray.

  “Well they’re not, because they can’t take either of you unless our tribal council votes to turn you over. And they’ll only consider that if you are charged with a crime they think warrants federal prosecution.

  “Like stabbing the chief of police of Darabee?”

  Jack made a face.

  “Why did you move Lisa to the station, Jack?” asked Morgan.

  “Dylan suggested it.” Jack glanced at her. “You have to stay calm. Your daughter is fine.”

  This, of course, had the opposite effect. Her heart now hammered so loudly in her ears she could barely think, let alone hear. She held both hands pressed over her pounding heart, trying to assuage the pain and the dizziness that threatened.

  Ray wrapped an arm around her and tugged her against him. “She’s safe. Jack just said so.”

  Morgan nodded. “Safe,” she whispered and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “What happened?” asked Ray.

  “Someone tried to grab her from the backyard of your uncle’s place. Dylan got to her. She was shaken up but unharmed.”

  “When did this happen?” asked Ray.

  “Between when we called Darabee for back up and you were found.”

  Ray thought about that.

  “Did they catch the perp?” asked Ray.

  “No. He got away. Dylan got a partial plate and a very good look at him. Young. Anglo. Hair in a man bun and with a full sandy-colored beard.”

  “Drive faster,” said Morgan.

  “We sent out one unit. The rest were with me. They didn’t see him.”

  “Because Rowe is hiding him in Darabee,” said Morgan.

  “We’ll look into that.”

  Ray knew there was little Jack could do if the neighboring police force was some kind of private army for BEAR. En route Ray told Jack everything he could remember, especially about Rowe’s part in giving Morgan’s father the access he needed to shoot and kill Sanchez. By the time they reached the station, Jack knew everything Ray did. It made Ray feel better but he also knew he had just put his friend’s life at risk. If they were willing to kill him and Morgan on the chance Morgan knew her father’s contacts and capture Lisa to ensure Morgan’s silence, he had no doubt that Jack’s name had just been added to their list of potential threats.

  “Be careful,” Ray said. “You don’t know who they got to.”

  Jack nodded his understanding and then parked his unit. The minute they cleared the police station doors, Ray was separated from Morgan. Jack stayed with him during the questioning by Agent Forrest and assured him that Chief Tinnin was with Morgan. Ray knew Tinnin was a Turquoise Guardian, but he didn’t know him well enough to trust him with Morgan’s life.

  Kenshaw Little Falcon arrived but Ray was not allowed to see him. Jack was called out to speak to Tinnin and Little Falcon. When he came back he told Ray that Jefferson Rowe was recovering from surgery and expected to make a full recovery. He had engaged an attorney and his room was guarded by both his men and the FBI.

  “His attorney is Gaston Wohern,” said Jack.

  “That supposed to mean something to me?”

  “He’s out of Phoenix. He is way out of Rowe’s league. That means Rowe has friends, the rich kind who hire the best legal counsel money can afford.”

  “BEAR,” said Ray.

  Jack nodded. “I’m sure he’ll stick to his story that he tried to apprehend Morgan and you and that he was attacked.”

  “Our word against his,” said Ray, knowing whose word would carry more weight.

  “We’ll keep you here on the rez for now. Best thing.”

  “You charging me?”

  “No, but Rowe will press charges and I’ll have to arrest you.”

  Ray felt afraid for the first time. “You can’t. That will leave Morgan unprotected.”

  “The FBI has the money and they should be preparing a statement to that effect. That should call off all the low-life treasure hunters and opportunists selling her home address and bogus treasure maps.”

  “But Rowe said that BEAR felt threatened. They’re more dangerous than a hundred guys with shovels and dreams of quick money.”

  “I agree. But I don’t know how we can protect her from BEAR.”

  “We got a look at one of their men. Dylan saw him. The one with the beard.” Ray wiped his mouth and thought. “And Rowe. The FBI have to get something out of him. They have to see he’s lying.”

  “You don’t have to convince me,” said Jack. “You need to convince him.” Jack pointed at field agent Luke Forrest. “Because you’ll need the Feds’ protection to keep Morgan alive.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Morgan didn’t like the deal she’d been offered but she trusted Ray and was beginning to trust Jack. Forrest was another matter. He was too polished and there was a certain hawkish glint to his eyes that made her uncomfortable. Lisa waited with her uncle in the chief’s office, but she knew that her uncle was not equipped to protect her daughter.

  The FBI was. She glanced from Agent Cosen to Agent Forrest.

  “What do I have to do? What exactly?”

  They explained it to her. She asked to see Ray and they refused. They would not let her go to Lisa either. But they did promise to release her daughter and her uncle if she didn’t agree. That was the deciding factor. She wouldn’t let those extremist maniacs at BEAR get to her little girl. And if she had to be human bear bait, the
n so be it.

  “All right. I’ll do it.”

  They had her sign some papers.

  In an hour, maybe two, Lisa would be among strangers in protective custody until this was over. But her daughter would be safe. The agents shuffled their papers and excused themselves, leaving her alone with Chief Wallace Tinnin.

  She spoke in Tonto Apache, knowing that the agents, now having a private conversation of their own, could not understand.

  “I wish Ray could stay with me,” she said.

  “No, you don’t,” said the chief.

  She understood. To ask Ray to be involved in this was to endanger his life.

  “You’re right. I don’t want him hurt.” She just was not going to say why out loud. She might confess to herself that she had fallen in love with Ray Strong. She might even admit that she was aware that Ray was not the kind of man who made commitments to a woman who had a child. But knowing that did not keep her from trying to protect him.

  “That’s not the reason,” said Tinnin.

  Morgan wrinkled her brows as unease tugged at the muscles of her shoulders and neck.

  “Why then?”

  “Because he wasn’t sent just to watch over you, Morgan. Kenshaw also sent Ray to find out what you knew about your father’s mission.”

  Her eye rounded. She couldn’t breathe. It felt like he had punched her in the stomach.

  “No.”

  Was he one of them, those eco-extremists who had paid her father to murder Sanchez?

  The objection sprang from her lips. “He’s not one of them.”

  Tinnin’s brow twitched but his face remained somber. “I hope your faith in him isn’t misplaced. Strong has a reputation for trouble. He’s a wild one. And Kenshaw has ties to some dangerous people. I know that at least one of them is a member of WOLF.”

  “That’s the nonviolent one? The eco-extremists who don’t endanger humans.”

  “Not intentionally, maybe. But driving a nail into a tree when you know a logger will be using a chain saw on it isn’t respectful of human life. Soaking a car dealership with gasoline and tossing a match isn’t respectful. I believe in protecting the earth, Morgan. But I also believe in protecting humanity.”