Tribal Law

by Jenna Kernan

  Even dressed as a workman, she still was the most desirable woman he’d ever known and the most exasperating. Her head was uncovered, and snowflakes sparkled like diamonds in the thick black hair that wrapped her shoulders like a curtain and framed her heart-shaped face. That angry, stubborn face that he couldn’t stop dreaming about.

  Gabe wiped his hand over his mouth, surprised to find sweat on his upper lip. His stomach ached. Why were they always at odds?

  He met her stare, remembering when the sight of him made her eyes twinkle with joy. Now he saw only the glitter of sorrow. It still hurt to look at her, but he couldn’t seem to look away. Staring at Selena was like gazing at the sun. He knew it was bad for him, but he couldn’t stop.

  She was clearly waiting for him to speak. Up until today, she had done her best to avoid him, which was tough because he made opportunities to see her. Had to, couldn’t stop even though it hurt.

  Damn her father for all he had done to break them up, and her for getting tangled up in this mess instead of coming to him.

  He stepped forward, closing the physical distance that separated them. If only he could as easily leap the emotional gulf that yawned between them. What kind of woman could not forgive a man for doing what was right?

  “You should have told me about this,” he said.

  Her mouth quirked and just that tiny gesture made his insides tighten.

  “I knew what would happen if I did.”

  Gabe grimaced. She was right, too. He would have made arrests.

  “Dryer isn’t who you think. He’s with the Department of Justice. He worked a deal with your dad—early release for his cooperation.”

  Selena’s eyes widened and she looked back to where Dryer stood with Juris.

  “He’s not with them?”

  “The suppliers? No. He’s a federal agent.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “I’m not arresting you. But I think I should. This is dangerous.”

  She drew back her shoulders and her chin came up a notch. “I know.”

  He was so close now that she had to crane her neck to look into his eyes. So close that he only had to lift his arms to bring her against him. Once he’d have had the right to do just that. He angled his head and imagined kissing her. What would she do if he tried?

  He leaned closer, inhaling the scent of lavender mingling with the crisp, cold air. God, he missed her.

  “Selena. You don’t have to do this,” he said.

  “Yes. I do.”

  “Then let me help you.”

  She made no reply and he knew she wouldn’t let him help. Instead, she tried to move past him.

  “Don’t go.”

  He reached, taking hold of her at the shoulders. She sagged and her eyes fluttered closed for just an instant. Then her eyes flashed open and her jaw set. He knew that stubborn look, and he was afraid it would get her killed.

  “He could have shot you,” he said.

  “Or you. It doesn’t stop you from doing your job.” She said the last two words with contempt.

  “This isn’t a job. It’s madness.”

  “Is it?”

  “You didn’t make the deal. You don’t have to go along. Selena, please...”

  He let his hands slip to hers. She stilled. And finally met his gaze. She seemed about to say something but instead bit that full bottom lip.

  Gabe’s breath caught. He tried again. “You’re not a police officer. You’re not trained for this.”

  She drew back, putting space between them. His arms dropped to his sides, one falling naturally on the grip of his pistol. Two rounds missing, he realized.

  Selena tugged her hand from beneath his. “I’m not your responsibility anymore.”

  “That was your choice.” He couldn’t keep the resentment from his voice.

  He saw the hurt in her expression, but he was still so angry.

  “You returned the ring,” he reminded her.

  Her eyes glittered dangerously. He knew the look. Selena was done talking. She marched away, rejoining her father and DOJ field agent Dryer.

  Gabe pulled his gray Stetson down tight on his head and ignored the cold wind as he watched her walk away.

  Chapter Eight

  Gabe returned to his office at six, having spent the afternoon at the scene being interviewed by the Arizona state police investigation team he had called in on the shooting. He’d chosen to ignore Matthew Dryer’s suggestion that he lie and suppress evidence. His one concession to the DOJ investigation was releasing Selena’s box truck and letting Dryer, Selena and her father drive away. That had not pleased the CSI team and Gabe would have to answer for allowing that truck to leave an active crime scene. But at least he would be able to hold his head up when it was eventually revealed that he and the gunmen were not the only ones at the scene of the shooting. Nothing was more important to Gabe than his reputation. He would not risk it, even for the Justice Department’s investigation.

  Once seated in his worn leather chair, Gabe checked the clock again at seven, realizing it was still too soon for Selena to have completed the round-trip and have reached home. All afternoon he had felt as though he had ants crawling on his skin. He couldn’t rest or relax until Selena was back safe on Black Mountain.

  En route to Selena’s place, Gabe resisted the urge to call his uncle to let him know what was happening here. If what Dryer said was true, then Luke’s partner already knew.

  Gabe did not notify the tribal council of the DOJ’s presence here, either. He would, in time, but he took Dryer’s warning to heart about an informant. Honestly, he was afraid that telling the tribal council might get Selena killed.

  In the darkness, with only the hum of his tires for company, Gabe’s mind pondered the disappearance of Officer Chee. A search of Chee’s home had yielded nothing. The officer and his vehicle, a brown Ford SUV, appeared to have vanished.

  Juris had contacted next of kin, his brother, Andre, who had not seen Dante since Monday night. Since he’d been off Tuesday that meant Chee had been missing for twenty-four hours before anyone knew he was gone and thirty-six hours in total. That was very bad.

  Gabe had put Juris in charge of the search. Until Gabe knew better, he’d assume Chee was alive, possibly injured and in need of help.

  Dante was twenty-two, no longer an intern, but only on his second full year on the force. He was bright, athletic and a seriously good dancer with many contest wins under his belt. He also was an excellent woodsman with survival training. Gabe hoped that would be enough to keep him safe until they found him. He feared something had happened to his man and wondered if his disappearance was somehow tied to the DOJ investigation. Dryer had told Gabe that his force had been close to discovering where the barrels were stored. Was that what he had meant? Had Dante stumbled upon the place where they stored the precursor?

  He parked his unit in the intersection on Wolf Canyon Road and Route 77, knowing that Selena would have to pass this spot on her way home. While he waited, he used his dashboard computer to investigate Pablo Nota, glancing up at any passing vehicle.

  Dryer had told him that Nota delivered messages from Escalanti to Raggar. Nota was Escalanti’s man. Dryer said he’d been unable to connect the cartel’s messenger to Escalanti. Gabe wondered if he might be able to provide that connection. Gabe knew that Nota was a known member of the Wolf Posse, which was the Apache gang that Clay had gotten mixed up with after their mother’s death. Gabe had tried to talk sense into his younger brother, but Clay was in full rebellion mode and eventually Gabe had arrested Clay. After that, lots of folks had called him a hard man. But Clay had said he’d saved his life. Now Clay was running for the tribal council seat vacated by Tessay. Strange world.

  Gabe glanced at the computer screen. Pablo Nota, now twenty-one,
appeared to be clean. Gabe’s database showed Nota had no job and that he lived with his parents. With unemployment running at 40 percent and housing in short supply, his situation was not atypical. Heck, both Gabe and Clyne lived with their grandmother.

  You could be living with Selena if you hadn’t taken back that ring.

  Gabe saw that Nota had registered a 2015 Mustang GT with Arizona DMV. That was an expensive ride for a man with no job. Gabe stared down at Pablo’s image. The face that stared back held a defiant smirk. He decided that he needed to get eyes on Nota.

  Gabe’s eye strayed to the glowing dashboard clock as he again compared the time the trip to Phoenix should take Selena against the actual time.

  He told himself that he needed to tell her that the state police would be by to question her, but that was only part of it. He wouldn’t feel right until he saw her with his own eyes.

  It was close to ten when the familiar box truck bounced along on bad struts and a passenger window now constructed of gray duct tape and cardboard. That might be the best sight he’d seen all day long. She passed right in front of him and he saw her for a moment, sitting tall behind the wheel. He pulled out and followed, drawing up beside her as she came to a stop before the modest three-bedroom house her parents had been assigned by HUD before she was even born.

  He was out of his vehicle before she had her lights off. Selena gave him a tired smile that warmed him like nothing else could. His heart just couldn’t seem to remember that she’d broken their engagement, and it went slamming into his ribs like a giddy puppy spotting its favorite toy.

  “Hello, Selena.”

  “Chief,” she said.

  She knew he didn’t like it when she called him that, but she did it anyway, often.

  On the other side of the cab, a door slammed. “Is that Gabe? You about gave me a heart attack, boy. Thought it was another ambush.”

  Frasco appeared before the truck, a shadow in the darkness.

  “Everything all right?” Gabe asked.

  “They didn’t shoot us,” said Frasco. “Didn’t pay us, either. What’s happening with Jason Leekela?”

  “We are only saying there was a shooting and that two parties were involved.”

  “They shot each other?” Frasco laughed. “Sammy will know that’s not right.”

  Probably, Gabe thought, and they’d deal with that when it became an issue.

  “What happens next?” asked Gabe.

  “They’ll call us.”

  “Will you let me know?” he asked.

  “Dryer will, I expect.”

  “Where’s Dryer?” asked Gabe.

  “Dropped him at his car. Said he’d call you tomorrow.”

  “I look forward to that.”

  “You want to come in?” asked Frasco. “Ruthie has some supper waiting,” he said.

  “Thank you, no.”

  Her father arched his back and groaned. “I’m going in. Selena?”

  “In a minute, Dad.”

  He hesitated, then left them alone in the darkness. Gabe drew closer and Selena leaned back against her box truck. Above them the stars shone bright enough to make the snow cover glow silver.

  “I was worried about you,” Gabe said.

  “Yes?” She looked surprised. Did she really think he could just turn off the feelings he had once had for her? Could she?

  Selena stared up at him with dark, compelling eyes.

  Gabe stepped back before he did something foolish. More foolish than coming here in the first place.

  Selena captured his hand and held it for a moment, gave it a tiny squeeze and then released him. The moonlight gilded her skin. She parted her lips and Gabe stopped moving away.

  Why had he taken that damned ring back?

  All his reasonable, rational thinking blew to hell beneath the smoldering gaze she cast him. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He felt awkward, unsure of what to say. He was always like this around her, ever since she’d shown him the door. They’d lost the familiarity they had once shared. But not the attraction. That was blazing between them as strong as a forest fire. He stood before her under the starry darkness.

  He should ask what happened in Phoenix and where she went and who she met. He should ask why Dryer had left her instead of seeing her safely back home.

  She glanced at him, and all those questions vanished but one—should he kiss her? He burned like a torch in the cold air, his body pounding to life with his accelerating heart rate and rising need. Selena was like a drug to him. That was what he told himself. The only cure was abstinence.

  He’d tried being with other women. There was just no comparison. And while Clyne played the field with a series of willing women, Gabe found the entire process of picking up women to be depressing, because even in the darkness he knew they were not Selena. His imagination just wasn’t that good. And now she was here, and he was here, and he wondered if he’d ever have this chance again.

  Selena waited.

  They’d both practiced the tactic of avoidance over the years. But like two magnets, when he was near her he always felt the pull. He reached to brush the curtain of hair from her face and she didn’t draw away. He used both hands to lift the silken strands back and then rested his hands on her slim shoulders, knowing how much weight she already carried there. Too much. Far too much for one woman.

  Selena made the next move, fisting the lapels of his jacket with both hands and tugging. He didn’t resist. If she wanted this, too, then he’d give it to her. Maybe it would help ease the ache.

  Yeah, right.

  It was a bad idea, start to finish. He fell forward against her, pinning her to the driver’s side door with his chest. Their open jackets allowed him to feel her soft breasts and the way she pressed her hips to his. Gabe stopped thinking as the need for Selena took over.

  Her hands slid under his coat and up to his shoulders. He angled his head and looked down at her. She lifted her chin in defiance and then smiled, knowing what would follow. Welcoming him. Her hips rocked against his and he was lost.

  He cradled her head in one hand, controlling her as he bent to kiss her. Selena’s yielding mouth met his demanding kiss, opening as his tongue slipped inside to taste the sweetness he had missed.

  She wanted this, too, and the knowledge acted on his body like gasoline on fire.

  Why didn’t any of the others taste like her? Why did it have to be Selena who lit him up like a firecracker on the Fourth of July? Heat blazed as the tip of her tongue slid over his and he groaned, yielding to his need and her power over him.

  He tugged her shirt from her waistband and caressed the long, soft plains of her back. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Selena shivered and moved closer.

  The absence, it must be that, which now made it feel as if his skin beat with his heart.

  He was drowning in her taste. Relishing the eager hands that turned to claws as her nails raked his back.

  He slid one hand up her ribs to find the full, tender flesh of her breast.

  Selena moaned, her lips still pressed to his and her body arching, twisting to give him access. She jumped and he caught her, her legs straddling his hips as his hands cradled her bottom. He sidestepped, thinking of the long backseat in his SUV and what they could do there. He had the door open and squeezed them through the gap. He lowered Selena. Then he pinned her with his hips. She ground against him and he thought he felt the last shreds of control fray and tear. He didn’t know why she wanted him. Maybe only for this. He told himself he didn’t care. That it was enough.

  It wasn’t.

  But she wanted him again. Just not as a husband, and that was for the best. Wasn’t it?

  He braced on an elbow, wedged between her head and the edge of the narrow backseat, keeping his weight off her except fo
r the most delicious places. Her soft breasts molded to his chest as he settled, hip to hip. She had one leg over his back and used it to pull him closer.

  “Selena,” he whispered. Why was this seat so small and the air so cold? Why hadn’t he anticipated this might happen when they suddenly found themselves alone in the darkness?

  Her teeth raked his neck, found the lobe of his ear and sucked.

  The action broke something loose inside him and he could not stop any more than he could call a bullet back into the chamber. He lifted his hips to unfasten her belt. He fumbled with the button closing her jeans. She brushed his hand away and he heard the sound of her zipper.

  Gabe turned to his own trousers, his hands sure now. Then a familiar voice called out from the direction of her house.

  “Sa-lee-na!”

  Selena stilled.

  Gabe turned his head, listening. Although the voice was lower than he’d have expected, he still recognized it. Her brother sounded drunk. Only Tomas was not drunk, he had been deprived of oxygen at birth and it had damaged his brain. He had the slurring, difficult speech of a man who would always be a boy.

  Selena stiffened. Gabe suppressed a groan and drew up so his chest no it longer pressed to hers. Gabe had adjusted his cab light so it did not come on when he opened the doors. It prevented him from being backlit when exiting his vehicle, making him an easy target. But now he could not see Selena clearly. Thankfully, neither could anyone in her house. Her face was now only shadows and moonlight, but he saw the crease between her brows.

  “Mama says come get you,” called her younger brother.

  Gabe’s radio blared from the front seat, calling his name.

  “Chief Cosen. This is Randall. Over.”

  Selena pushed up.

  “Leenie! Supper!”

  She called into the darkness. “Coming.”

  Gabe picked up the sound of Tomas stomping his feet on the icy wooden steps.