Tribal Law Read Free

the afternoon.
    â€œYes, Chief.”
    â€œAnything on the Dosela release?” Maybe he should have stopped to see if Frasco was home, as he should be under the terms of his early release. “Send the closest man to the Doselas’ to verify Frasco’s return.”
    â€œRoger that.”
    â€œAnd all eyes looking for a box truck.”
    Jasmine picked up on his line of thinking. “You mean Selena’s truck or Mia’s?”
    â€œSelena’s. Mia should be in Phoenix. Anything from DOC?”
    Frasco Dosela had been returned to the reservation with the escort of one of Gabe’s men, his parole officer and a representative from the Department of Corrections who had fitted him with a radio anklet to monitor his movements.
    â€œNot since Officer Cienega escorted Mr. Dryer off the rez.”
    â€œWhen was that?”
    â€œAbout ten. Um...logged at ten eighteen, Chief.”
    He glanced at the dash. It was past noon. Frasco Dosela had better be home on house arrest.
    Gabe was already hitting the gas.
    â€œAnything going on?” he asked, checking on the day’s activities.
    â€œOne thing. Officer Chee isn’t in yet.”
    His patrolman had been on the force for less than a year, was green as grass, inexperienced, lacked confidence but he was punctual.
    Gabe lifted the radio. “You call him?”
    â€œYes, Chief. Home and mobile. No answer.”
    â€œSend a unit.”
    â€œTen-four.”
    â€œAnything else?” Gabe asked.
    â€œPretty quiet.”
    â€œAll right. Keep me posted on Chee. Out.”
    Wouldn’t be the first time someone missed a shift. Still, it wasn’t like him, and Gabe had that uncomfortable sensation that often preceded bad news. It sort of felt like there was a cold spot in his gut. He had that numbness now, though whether over his officer’s absence or Selena’s little mystery passenger he was not sure.
    Gabe knew Selena’s route as well as he knew his own. The delivery of fresh baked goods took her around the entire 113-mile loop through the reservation and usually before ten in the morning.
    She should have been done and home by now.
    â€œWhere you going, Selena?”

Chapter Three
    â€œWho are we meeting?” Selena asked her father as she hunched over the wheel of her box truck, her eyes flashing to the side mirrors as she periodically searched for Gabe.
    â€œEscalanti’s men. They’re at the meth lab with a small delivery. Dryer, too.”
    Matthew Dryer was the man from the Department of Corrections who was supposed to have put a tamper-proof anklet on her father. Instead, Dryer had given him the easy-on, easy-off model. Not standard issue.
    Her father continued with the plan as Selena kept one hand on the wheel and the other clenched in her hair. How could this be happening?
    â€œEventually they need a regular run. Bring a few barrels of chemicals to the meth lab each week for production. Then transport the finished product from the lab down to Phoenix.”
    â€œWe can’t transport off the rez.”
    The moment they rolled one tire off the reservation, they both lost their protected status as members of the Black Mountain Apache Tribe. Any crime they committed could be tried in state or federal court instead of in their own tribal judicial courts.
    â€œEscalanti doesn’t give a damn about our protected status. Only his.”
    Escalanti, the new leader of the Wolf Posse, had a reputation for never leaving the reservation. In fact, he rarely left the shabby house they called headquarters.
    â€œSo that guy from the Department of Corrections is Raggar’s man?”
    Her father hesitated. “Yup.”
    Her dad was an excellent liar, but he had that little tell, the hesitation before answering. Selena released her hair and put both hands on the wheel. So, who was Dryer really?
    â€œDon’t you think, with Gabe Cosen sniffing around, we should try this another