Native Born

by Jenna Kernan

Escalanti went to his car, removed something she could not see and returned to the house. Cassidy sighed and set aside her field glasses.

  Her phone pinged, indicating a text from her daughter.

  Cassidy responded to her daughter’s texts throughout the afternoon and evenings but did not call, respecting the court’s order in an attempt to allow her daughter to make the transition into the Cosen household. The school had her medical records. She already had a few friends. Her daughter’s revelation that some of the kids called her an Anglo because she couldn’t speak Apache troubled her. She did not want her daughter to enter middle school next year as an outsider. Perhaps the education Glendora insisted she begin would be valuable because it included lessons on the Apache language.

  Cassidy lifted her smartphone to check Jovanna’s after-school text.

  taking 4 walk

  Buster was in for a treat. She knew from Glendora that Jovanna took Buster on a long walk down the road and back and then played catch with him in the backyard before homework.

  Cassidy texted her back.

  Have fun!

  KK

  The reply was almost instantaneous. KK or Okay.

  Cassidy recorded a new license on her pad and watched the driver, snapping a few photos.

  After forty minutes or so she glanced at her silent phone and frowned. Jovanna should be back now working on homework. She lifted her phone and typed.

  How was the walk?

  She waited and received no reply. She furrowed her brows. Cassidy knew the cell service on the rez was spotty. But the service inside the Cosen home was good.

  She stared at the blank screen, trying to decide if she should call Glendora or if she was being overprotective. Her knowledge of what happened in the world did not make her the most relaxed of parents.

  She lifted her phone and dialed Jovanna. The call went to voice mail. Cassidy followed her instincts and called the Cosen home number. She got no answer so she started her engine, heading back off Wolf Canyon Road toward the town of Black Mountain.

  She pulled into the Cosens’ drive at the same time as Clyne arrived.

  “Well, this is a surprise,” he said, crossing the gravel drive to meet her.

  “Where’s Jovanna?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “She didn’t answer my text.”

  Clyne did not minimize her concerns. Instead he turned toward the house. “Let’s go see.”

  They walked through the house and the to the back where they found Glendora on the step pinning laundry to the line, the old aluminum wheel squealing with each tug.

  “Where’s Jovanna?” asked Cassidy.

  Glendora startled. “Why, isn’t she inside?”

  “No,” said Clyne.

  Cassidy’s phone rang and she blew away her relief, but when she lifted the phone it was to find the number of her boss on the screen.

  “Walker,” she said, scanning the wide backyard that led up a hillside for any sign of Buster or Jovanna.

  “Cassidy, you still in Wolf Canyon?”

  “No. Black Mountain. My daughter’s missing.”

  “What?” Tully swore.

  “Send Luke from Salt River and send a team up here now.”

  “You got it.”

  Cassidy returned the phone to her jacket.

  She followed Clyne as he charged through the house and back to their vehicles. She made for her sedan.

  “Do you know where she walks?”

  “Yes. By the stream. This way.”

  Cassidy made for Clyne’s SUV. He could drive. She could search.

  “Let’s go.”

  She sat in the passenger seat with her gun drawn and the window open, scanning the shoulder ahead and then the yellow grass between the road and the tree line.

  Clyne also had his window open and he whistled occasionally. A high, loud commanding signal that reminded her of how a shepherd directs his dog. Then he called for Buster and then Jovanna.

  She listened for a reply. Finally she heard something about a half mile from the house. It sounded like the wind but the day was flat calm.

  “Stop,” she cried. A moment later Cassidy saw the muddy matted fur on the animal that looked as if it had been hit by a passing vehicle. It lay in the ditch beside the road. “There.” She pointed.

  Clyne was out of the car at the same second as she was. Her feet hit the soft earth and sunk.

  “Buster?” called Clyne.

  His dog lifted his head and gave another pitiful whine. Clyne knelt beside the dog, his hand running over the matted fur.

  “He’s been stabbed.”

  Cassidy lifted her pistol to chin level and glanced to the empty road for her missing daughter. Clyne lifted Buster up and slid him into the backseat.

  “Call Gabe,” said Clyne.

  She did, but only after she tried Jovanna’s phone unsuccessfully again. Then she called her office to initiate an Amber Alert. Finally she called Luke and Clyne drove them back to the house.

  Clay and his wife, Izzie, met them in the driveway. Izzie took charge of Buster, disappearing in Clay’s truck.

  Kino was first on the scene and searched the property as Clyne took Clay to check the spot where they found Buster. Luke arrived and failed to get Cassidy to the safe house.

  “We are going to find Jovanna,” she snarled, and she left him to confer with Glendora to get a description of what exactly Jovanna was wearing. Then she joined Kino as he circled the trailer beside the house. She did not know how to read any but the most obvious tracks. She was surprised to watch him stoop and study one print after another that looked very much like all the rest to her. She followed him into the trailer and then out again. She waited where he told her as he disappeared into the woods.

  The headlights told her that someone was here and that it was getting dark. A chill gripped her. Where was her daughter?

  Clay and Clyne returned as Luke arrived.

  “What did you find?” asked Cassidy to Clyne.

  “Buster tried to make it back to the house. He crawled a good fifty feet from where he was stabbed,” said Clyne.

  “Jovanna was taken by a man in an SUV or truck from the tracks. She fought him and Buster might have gotten a piece of him.”

  Luke broke in. “Where’s the dog? There might be blood evidence on his teeth or in his mouth.”

  “I’ll call Izzie. Ask the vet to check.”

  “I’m going,” said Luke, rattling off the name of the vet and getting confirmation from Clay.

  Kino returned, walking fast up the drive. “Someone was in that trailer.”

  The chill straightened Cassidy’s spine and she clamped her elbows to her sides as she shook. Kino continued with his findings.

  “Medium frame. Construction boots, old ones and he’s pigeon-toed. He was there today. Maybe even watched Jovanna get off the bus from that window. Tracks head behind the trailer and back to the road where he got in a vehicle. We might have something by the window inside. Looks like a water bottle. I don’t think it’s ours.”

  Gabe arrived, lights flashing.

  “I called everybody in. My guys and all the volunteer firefighters. They’re all out looking for her.”

  Kino stepped aside to fill Gabe in while Cassidy called Tully with the description of Jovanna’s clothing and she sent Jovanna’s photo by text. Tully provided her with a GPS location on Jovanna’s phone. She and Gabe set off to find it and they did, in the ditch only a mile farther up the road south, away from Black Mountain.

  “Someone took her,” she said.

  Gabe used an evidence bag to scoop the ringing phone out of the mud and zipped it inside. Then he brought Cassidy back to the house.

  Cassidy and Clyne joined the s
earch that was now statewide. Every police officer and trooper now had Jovanna’s description and if they didn’t have a photo they soon would have. Plus every cell phone of anyone within a two-hundred-mile range would be receiving a special Amber Alert message. Finally, she knew all radio and television stations would broadcast the information. Even the electronic road signs would be called into service to issue the alert. And still it did not seem enough.

  At 10 p.m. Clyne turned them back to the house where she spent a long night in a chair beside her silent charging cell phone. Her only consolation was that she did not wait and worry alone. She had Glendora and Clyne.

  Izzie Cosen returned to report that Buster had a punctured lung and severe blood loss, but the vet was optimistic that he would survive.

  “Gabe told me it was all right to tell you. There was a scrap of fabric in Buster’s mouth. Olive green. Trouser material, he thinks.”

  Buster had at least gotten a piece of the kidnapper. Cassidy wanted the same chance. At 5 a.m. Cassidy’s phone rang. She picked up.

  “I’ve got your daughter.”

  “I want to speak to her.”

  “No.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Ain’t you figured it out yet? I’m the one that nearly run you down.”

  “Why?”

  “My brothers is why.”

  Brothers. Cassidy looked at Clay, Clyne, Gabe and Kino all watching her as she took the call. Brothers who would do anything for the other.

  She’d killed Brett Parker and his brother Johnny Parker had shot her in that river park. Did Brett and Johnny have another brother?

  “Which Parker are you?” she asked.

  “Good for you, FBI lady. I’m the youngest. No record, so I’m not in your little databases.”

  He’d be there now, she thought.

  “What do you want?”

  “I’m glad you asked.”

  * * *

  CLYNE LISTENED AS LUKE, Cassidy and Gabe went over Parker’s demands once more and final arrangements were made.

  They knew the kidnapper’s identity now. He was Lamar Parker, twenty-four, unemployed and a member of various survivalist organizations that might give him access to some nasty weapons.

  “All we know is it’s off the rez,” said Cassidy. “We know what cell tower it’s pinged off and it’s closer to Tucson than Black Mountain.”

  “We can see from our satellites,” said Luke. “Everything, right down to the license plate of his car to the registration on his windshield. He won’t get away.”

  “That’s not even on my list of worries,” said Gabe.

  Clyne felt the same way. Cassidy’s life and Jovanna’s life. That was what mattered. But one look at Cassidy told him she was not concerned about her own life. Only her daughter’s.

  “I’m worried he doesn’t expect to get away,” said Gabe. “He might just want to get his brother clear. Kill you and then, death by cop.”

  Clyne knew Lamar Parker’s demands. He had two. The release of Johnny Parker from federal prison. And then Johnny to be delivered across the border. In exchange, he would trade Jovanna Cosen for Cassidy Walker.

  This couldn’t be happening. He’d finally found the woman he wanted to marry and managed to get past his own issues about the expectations of others. Now he considered the possibilities that those expectations were largely his own. And now his sister’s life was in danger and Cassidy was going to ride in there like the Lone Ranger minus Tonto. When everyone knew that Tonto was the only reason the Lone Ranger survived.

  “I’ll drive her,” said Clyne.

  “He’ll shoot her the minute he sees you,” said Gabe.

  “He won’t see me.”

  “I go alone,” she said.

  “He’ll kill you,” Clyne said.

  She didn’t reply, just pressed her lips tight and crossed her arms in stubborn refusal to listen to reason.

  “She has to go,” said Glendora. “For Jovanna.”

  And then he realized what his grandmother meant. Cassidy was Jovanna’s mother and fully prepared to trade her life for her child’s.

  “My team will meet us at the reservation border. They’ll be in position on every road.”

  Clyne turned and left the room. He walked down the hall to his bedroom, where he changed his clothes and retrieved a special case from beneath his bed. Metal case in hand, he walked to Gabe’s room and reached for the key that was hanging on a nail behind the medicine wheel. Clyne gripped the key a little tighter than necessary as he faced the gun safe. Then he blew away a long breath and retrieved his rifle, scope and tripod. The ammunition box sat on the top shelf. He shoved it into his front pocket, then stooped to place each of the three pieces in the foam cradles. The fit was exact. Clyne clipped the case closed and retraced his steps. The room went silent at his return.

  Gabe eyed the case he held and then met his gaze. “You remember how to shoot that thing?”

  Clyne nodded. “I remember.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Gabe’s men and Cassidy’s team from the FBI field office rendezvoused with a unit from the Tucson office just south of Black Mountain at the point where Cassidy was to wait for Parker’s phone call.

  Parker’s call came in at 7:56 in the morning and, as promised, he delivered the meet location.

  “I know that place. It’s a bad spot,” said Gabe. “First, it’s a private airfield and it has a helicopter port.”

  Her team pulled up satellite images on the mobile operations station.

  “He must know you can fly birds,” said Luke.

  “Second problem,” Gabe said, “is that we have to cross down over a wide-open area that stretches for miles. Even at the lowest magnification, he’ll see us coming if we go with you, and we don’t have time to set up beforehand, and forget about a drone or aircraft.” Gabe waved a hand at the blue cloudless sky. “He’ll see them.”

  “We can put them up higher than he can see,” said Tully.

  “To observe,” clarified Gabe.

  “Yes.”

  Cassidy conferred with the teams and refused every suggestion that did not involve her going alone to meet Parker.

  Clyne took hold of her arm to get her to focus on him.

  “I’m going with you.”

  “He sees you, he kills your sister. I’m not taking that chance.”

  “He won’t see me. Not from three hundred yards.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked.

  He pulled her toward his SUV and opened the fitted case on his front seat, showing her the foam packing in which his M24 waited beside the tripod.

  Her eyes widened. She shook her head.

  “You don’t hunt.”

  “True.”

  “You wouldn’t take my pistol.”

  “I know.”

  “So how can you expect to do this?”

  “Because he has Jovanna.”

  She gave him a long steady look with those cool blue eyes.

  “I can do it.”

  “We have sharpshooters,” she said, her head slowing shaking a denial.

  “Any of them have thirty-six confirmed kills?”

  She met his gaze. “Clyne, I’m afraid.”

  “No. Not you.”

  “If he sees you...”

  “Just drop your speed to twenty and I’ll roll out. Then I’ll set up.”

  She was considering it. He could tell from the amount of time she stood staring at his gear.

  “You have to promise me something.” Her gaze flicked to him. “If you have to choose, it will be her.”

  He didn’t want to make that deal. This time he was shaking his head.

  “Promise or I take one of them.
” She glanced back at her team.

  He couldn’t let her go with anyone else.

  “All right.” But he made himself a promise, too. He’d save them both. Somehow.

  Cassidy went to tell her team. There was some raised voices. But the pressure of time worked in her favor. Tully aimed a finger at her. She never flinched. Finally she returned to him.

  “Let’s go.”

  Cassidy drove her sedan down the mountain with the entire army of federal agents and Gabe’s men.

  Clyne was glad for the tinted glass that would keep any spotter Parker might have from seeing him. There were two likely places to set up. He made his pick.

  “That one.”

  As they drew closer he thought of all the things he needed to tell her.

  “Clyne, if I don’t make it back, you have to promise me to take care of her.”

  “You’re coming back.”

  “She’s the only one in this world who will miss me.”

  “I’ll miss you. So come back.”

  She gave him a sweet sad smile.

  “You took off your holster?” he asked.

  Cassidy lifted her jacket, revealing an empty holster.

  He hoped that Parker didn’t have a set of high-powered binoculars. Clyne’s mind began to sink back into the job. The average range of accuracy from three-hundred yards was three and a half inches in either direction. His was two inches.

  His bullet would travel so fast that it would reach his target in less than a quarter second of when he pulled the trigger. Too slow, Clyne decided.

  “Don’t shoot until Jovanna is clear,” she reminded him again.

  His stomach cramped in a tight little knot. But this wasn’t dread. It was that mix of anticipation and the acceptance that he wanted to pull that trigger. That was the reason he had stopped. He wasn’t just good at hitting a target. He found a satisfaction in a job well done. That made him a cold-blooded killer.

  She drove and he held the familiar case between his legs. Inside was his M24 rifle and tripod. He had correctly guessed their location and had accordingly dressed in pale tan pants and jacket so that he would blend with the sand and soil here on the flats. In addition to this outfit, he wore elbow and knee pads. He’d had enough falls from bucking horses when he rode the rodeo circuit to know how to roll. The trick was to go with inertia and keep your arms close to your core.