“I want you here,” Gabe said.
“You never look like you need help and you never ask me for it.”
“Well, I’ve never had to stand over the grave of one of my officers before, either. I hope I never have to do that again.”
She took his hand and held it to her cheek. “It’s a terrible loss. I hope you find the killer.”
He hoped that her father wasn’t tied up in all this but it wasn’t looking good. He realized that his arresting him had broken their engagement. If and when he made that second arrest and sent him back to federal prison, maybe for many, many years, would she ever forgive him?
This might be their first and last night together.
Tribal Law
Jenna Kernan
JENNA KERNAN has penned over two dozen novels and has received two RITA® Award nominations. Jenna is every bit as adventurous as her heroines. Her hobbies include recreational gold prospecting, scuba diving and gem hunting. Jenna grew up in the Catskills and currently lives in the Hudson Valley of New York State with her husband. Follow Jenna on Twitter, @jennakernan, on Facebook or at www.jennakernan.com.
To Jim—Always.
Contents
Selena Dosela’s heart beat so hard in her chest she started gasping.
“For the love of God,” said her father from the passenger seat. “Where’s your Apache poker face?”
She pressed a hand to her forehead and blew out a breath but still felt dizzy.
“Better.” Her father, who was supposed to be home under house arrest, had crouched out of sight when they passed Gabe’s police car, but there was nowhere to hide in the small cab of her box truck.
Gabe hit his lights.
“Pull over,” said her dad.
She did, gliding on snow and ice to a stop on the shoulder. Gabe’s white SUV pulled in behind her.
Gabe Cosen, the chief of police for the Black Mountain Apache Tribe, would spot her father the instant he reached her door, which was in about fifteen seconds.
“Tell me when he’s next to the rear tire.”
Selena’s heart began galloping again.
She glanced in her side mirror. Gabe exited his unit, tugged down his thigh-length sheepskin jacket and put on the gray Stetson that he always wore. Now her heart pounded for a different reason. Even from a distance this man could raise her heart rate and her internal temperature.
As chief, he didn’t wear a uniform anymore except for special occasions. But he still wore that hat, as if he were a cowboy instead of an Indian. He tipped the brim down and then marched toward Selena’s driver’s side. On any other day she might have appreciated the sight because Gabe Cosen looked good coming or going. Right now she wished it was going.
“What should we do?” she asked.
Her father cast her a look of disappointment. “What do you think? Hide. I’ll be outside on the running board.”
Why