Tribal Law. Jenna Kernan

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       Chapter Five

      His second in command, Detective Randall Juris, was the first on the scene followed closely by Gabe’s youngest brother, Kino. Both ran without lights or sirens.

      Juris pulled to a stop and exited his unit with gun drawn.

      “Clear,” said Gabe, and Juris holstered his weapon.

      The detective paused at the rear of the truck and massaged his neck with one hand as he regarded the two dead bodies. Then he glanced to Gabe. Juris was in his midforties and had worked as an extra in several Western movies. His rugged good looks and classic Indian features had softened with age and the expansion of his middle, so he now seemed a little too top-heavy to ride a horse. As a detective, he no longer wore the gray shirt and charcoal trousers of a patrolman. Today he was in jeans, boots and a fleece-lined denim jacket.

      “Where you want me?” he asked.

      “Take him.” He motioned toward Frasco Dosela.

      Juris ordered the bleeding, older Dosela up and he made it to the front fender of the box truck unassisted. Juris searched him, cuffed Dosela’s hands before him and led him to the detective’s unit. Juris retrieved a towel from his trunk and offered it to Dosela with a warning.

      “Don’t bleed on my upholstery,” he cautioned, as he put him in the backseat.

      Dosela pressed the towel to his bleeding head with both hands.

      Kino left his unit and stopped beside Selena. Kino was nine years Gabe’s junior, newly married to a Salt River woman and was a two-year veteran of the force, so he still wore the patrolman’s uniform, including the charcoal-gray jacket that had the tribal seal on one shoulder and the police patch on the other. Unlike Gabe, Kino wore his hair long and tied back with red cloth as an homage to their ancestry. But they shared above-average size, athletic frames and a calling to serve their people through law enforcement. Kino’s ready smile was absent today as he looked to his chief for direction.

      “Keep an eye on this one,” Gabe motioned to Dryer. “Tell me if he stops breathing or comes around. And radio in an all clear.”

      “Ambulance?” asked Kino.

      “Take too long. We’ll transport.”

      Kino took over the watch beside Dryer.

      Gabe took hold of Selena’s elbow and led her to the front of her truck. Before he could question Selena, Juris reported that he had found two quart-size plastic baggies that appeared to contain crystal methamphetamine.

      Gabe’s heart sank still further at this news. Drugs. Selena was transporting drugs in her box truck. And she was driving. He glanced to Selena and met her gaze. She dropped her chin. He’d never seen anyone look more guilty in his life.

      He spoke to Juris but never took his eyes off Selena. “Thank you. Give us a minute, please.”

      Juris retreated.

      “Selena?”

      She reached for him and he stepped back, widening the space between them. She wasn’t going to grab his weapon or pull some other stunt. He needed to start treating her as any other suspect. But he couldn’t. Not Selena.

      He felt sick to his stomach.

      Her eyes flashed back and forth, reminding him of a cornered animal. He noted the speed of her breathing and lifted a brow in worry.

      Finally she spoke, the words bursting forth in a harsh whisper. “You have to send Kino to my house. Someone.” She glanced about again. “Someone you can trust. Please, Gabe.”

      Gabe could almost feel Selena’s panic. Her entire body trembled as she spoke.

      “Please. Send someone to protect my family. Right now.”

      “Protect them from what?”

      She lifted her hands, gesturing wildly. “I don’t know. More gunmen. My dad said that if we didn’t do this, they’d hurt us. Gabe, please, if they find out you stopped us, they might...might...” She pressed her hand to her mouth as her eyes went wide with horror. She dragged her hand clear. “Tomas is in school. They might go there. Oh, Gabe. Help them.”

      “Slow down, now.” He tried and failed to resist the urge to place a hand on her shoulder. She trembled beneath his touch, seemingly frightened to death. “Who threatened you?”

      “I don’t know!” She clamped a hand over her mouth again, then let it slip. “Someone. My dad knows. Some Mexican gang. And Escalanti. He mentioned someone... Escalanti is his name. They need Apache transportation on the rez and we have to bring barrels. Some kind of barrels.”

      Gabe’s mind flashed to his uncle’s request that he search for blue fifty-gallon drums.