Black Rock Guardian

by Jenna Kernan

  With his head turned, he never saw Ty strike. Before Randy could call out, Ty had him against his chest with one hand over his mouth. The boy’s struggles were ineffective.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Randy. But you aren’t warning Jewell.”

  In short order, he had Randy tied hand and foot and secured to a sturdy fence post. His mouth was gagged with the cloth Ty had worn in his hair.

  “Quit wiggling. It only tightens the knots, and that post will give you slivers.”

  Ty left Randy and headed for the house. The front door was unlocked, owing to the fact that Jewell did not expect company and was confident that Randy would alert her if there was any.

  He found her lying on the couch watching afternoon soaps.

  “Ty! What a nice surprise.” She glanced behind him toward the door. “You see my brother outside?”

  “He’s tied up.”

  Jewell rose from the couch, assessing him now with her large intelligent eyes.

  “Where is she?” Ty asked.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her eyes shifted, telling him otherwise.

  “My sister. Get her,” said Ty.

  Jewell’s laugh was forced. “She’s not here.”

  “That so?”

  Jewell lifted her chin in a gesture that some women used as a display of arrogance and disdain. “Get out of here.”

  “My sister?”

  She waved an impatient hand and Ty saw her nail polish was black. “Search the place if you want.”

  “I don’t have time for that.”

  “Faras finds out you’ve been bothering me and he’ll take you out. I don’t know why he lets you hang with us anyway. You’re not one of us and your brother’s a cop.”

  Ty was done talking. He grabbed Jewell by the upper arm and forced her to the door.

  “Hey! Let go of me.” She struggled but still hurried along beside him. “Faras’s gonna kill you for this.”

  He took her through the open door and to the yard, where she had a clear view of her barn and pasture.

  “Where’s my brother?” she asked, her voice losing the fury and taking on notes of panic.

  Ty did not answer.

  “Beth!” he called.

  FBI Agent Hoosay stepped from the barn wearing her body armor, looking tough and oh, so sexy to Ty. He tucked that image away for another time, hoping they both lived long enough for him to enjoy it.

  Beth had her pistol drawn. In her opposite hand, she held the red nylon rope of a lead. She made a clicking sound and came out leading Big Red.

  Jewell gasped and lifted her free hand to her heart. Beth raised her pistol and pressed it at the horse’s head just below the ear.

  “All right.” Jewell threw up her hands. “She’s here. I’ll get her. Where’s my brother?”

  “Abbie first,” said Ty.

  Jewell turned toward the house and he walked with her. A glance showed Beth’s pistol holstered. She held the horse, by a loose lead, and gently stroked his cheek.

  Ty allowed Jewell to take him upstairs. She moved the large wooden linen cabinet, which was on rollers. He released her so she could move the rack of towels and makeup to reveal a small door cut in the wall. It was closed with a bolt.

  Jewell motioned with her head. “She’s in there.”

  “Get her.” Ty held his breath as he worried what he would find. If she’d hurt Abbie, he didn’t know if he could control himself.

  Jewell threw back the bolt and tugged open the door. There was no sound from within the dark crawl space. She reached and tugged a beaded pull chain, snapping on the single lightbulb.

  Ty crouched and saw a large dog crate on the dusty floor. Inside, Abbie lay on her side on a blanket, facing away from them, unmoving.

  “What’s wrong with her?” asked Ty.

  “I give her some cough medicine, the kind with codeine and alcohol. It keeps her quiet.”

  “Get her,” he ordered, pushing Jewell toward the cubby.

  She crawled to his sister, opened the crate and rolled Abbie to her back. Ty gasped at the gray pallor of her face.

  Was she breathing?

  “Wakey, wakey, Abbie. You’ve got company.”

  Abbie’s eyes blinked open and Ty let his head drop back. He could breathe again.

  He heard a light tread on the stairs. A glance to the hall showed Beth on the stairs, gun drawn.

  “It’s me,” said Beth, coming to the landing and heading for him. “You okay?”

  He nodded and turned his attention back to the bathroom.

  Jewell was yanking a very groggy Abbie from her prison. Ty stooped and gathered Abbie to him. She smelled of sweat and tears and alcohol. Ty kicked the small door shut.

  “Hey!” shouted Jewell.

  Beth threw the bolt shut. “She have her phone?”

  “No. It’s downstairs on the coffee table.”

  Ty raised his voice. “Jewell, when you see Faras, remember that I have Randy.”

  The pounding ceased.

  “I have to bring her in as well,” said Beth.

  Ty spoke to Jewell, cautioning her. Then he let her out. Beth took it from there and in short order Jewell’s hands were cuffed behind her back. Ty preceded her down the stairs, carrying his little sister in his arms. She stopped in the living room to take Jewell’s phone.

  Once outside, Ty set Abbie carefully in the truck cab as Beth ordered Jewell to lie down on the ground. Then Beth saw to Randy. She took off his gag, replaced the ropes with zip ties on his wrists and delivered him to the truck cab.

  Ty was in the cab trying to get Abbie to stay awake when Beth ordered the boy into the cab. Randy hesitated.

  “Is that Abbie?” asked Randy, the shock evident in his voice. Ty realized that Randy and Abbie were likely in the same grade at school.

  “Didn’t you know?” asked Ty.

  Randy shook his head and began to cry.

  “Get in, Randy. Hold Abbie up,” said Ty.

  Beth spoke from the open passenger door. “I’m putting Jewell in the back.”

  “She might jump.”

  “I’ll cuff her to your brother’s tool kit.”

  Jake’s tool kit was stainless steel, bolted down and went from one side of the bed to the other. Jewell would not be able to escape it.

  Ty exited the vehicle to help Beth secure Jewell. Then they returned to the truck cab. Abbie sprawled across Randy’s lap.

  He gave Ty an apologetic look. “I can’t hold her on account of the cuffs.”

  Beth climbed in and pulled Abbie across her lap, then secured the seat belt around Randy. Then Ty set them in motion.

  “We have to get them to tribal before Faras finds out that his whole world just went sideways.”

  Ty set them in motion. Randy sat sullen beside Ty sniffing occasionally and Abbie slumped against Beth.

  “Call Kee,” said Ty. “Tell him I have Abbie and that she’s on something.”

  Beth lifted her phone at the same time Jewell’s mobile played a popular rap song about the boss.

  “Faras,” she said, looking at the screen.

  They didn’t answer and the call cut out, followed by a text that displayed on the lock screen.

  No word from R. Bring her.

  “R? Is that Russians?” asked Beth.

  “Possibly.”

  “He knows. And we got him,” said Beth, lifting Jewell’s phone. She called Kee first. Ty listened as she gave him the important details. She disconnected and turned to him. “He’ll meet us at your tribal health clinic.” She made a call to her field office, reporting the successful recovery of Abigail Redhorse and listening while Ty wondered what she knew. He didn’t have long to wait, but the call seemed endless. They flew through Koun’nde under stormy gray skies and
were heading for Piňon Forks when she disconnected.

  “Jake is safe. They have the Russians in custody, including Victor Vitoli. He’s the one Mills called when they had issues. Forrest was hoping to bag him because Vitoli answers directly to Usov.” Beth blew through pursed lips, a sound of relief.

  “Where are they?” asked Ty.

  “Still in Darabee, but Forrest is sending all available agents to the Wolf Posse’s headquarters to make arrests.”

  “The missing? Garcia, Espinoza and Kesselman?” asked Ty.

  “Not there.”

  Ty knew that Marta Garcia was a close friend of Kacey. She had risked her life to get Marta free.

  “Maybe we’ll get something from the Russians’ tech. We have very good people. They could still find them,” said Beth.

  Ty wanted more. He wanted that organization shut down for good and all the girls that they had taken to be returned to their families.

  They reached the clinic to find Kee waiting on the sidewalk, pacing beside Lori. Kee had Beth’s door open the instant Ty put the truck in Park.

  “Jake back yet?” he asked Lori.

  Lori cast him a worried gaze. “All en route to the posse according to Ava.”

  As the tribe’s new dispatcher, Ava knew where all the officers were at all times.

  Beth passed Abbie to Kee. He took her to the waiting stretcher, removing his coat to place it around his little sister. Then he began checking her vitals as Lori pushed them toward the side entrance on the women’s health care side of the clinic.

  Beth left Randy, who sat with head bowed as tears splashed the denim of his jeans, leaving dark spots. Ty paused beside Beth to speak to Randy.

  “Ask for Bear Den,” said Ty. “He’ll help you, Randy, if you let him. You hear me?”

  Randy sniffed and nodded.

  With all the tribal police on their way to Wolf Posse headquarters, Beth had to bring Jewell to the tribal police herself. Ty hesitated as Beth took the driver’s seat, torn between following Kee and following her.

  “Call your mother. Tell her we have your sister,” said Beth. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay,” answered Ty, and he followed Kee and his sister.

  Beth drove Jewell and Randy from the clinic lot to the one before headquarters. Randy waited beside the truck as she released his sister from the toolbox, then neatly snapped the cuffs back together behind her back. She assisted Jewell down and found Ava Hood taking charge of Randy. Beth walked Jewell into the station, stopping at the dispatch desk while Ava retrieved the keys to the only cell on the premises.

  Ava lifted the headset to report Beth’s arrival to Tinnin. Beth deposited Randy in the squad room beside Ava’s desk. Beth knew the woman had been a detective in Salt River and would know how to process a prisoner, even a minor one.

  Beth escorted Jewell down the hall and happily deposited her in the cell, loving that satisfying click of the lock engaging. Then she returned to dispatch.

  “I called protective services,” said Ava. “They’re sending someone for Randy.”

  Beth nodded and then kneeled before Randy. “You aren’t your sister, kiddo. You can make choices. The gang is gone. You’re not.”

  Ava used a tissue to wipe Randy’s running nose.

  Beth was already on her way out and Ty had to jog over to catch her.

  “You going to the clinic?” she asked.

  “I did. Abbie is doing all right. Kee’s got her, so I’m going with you,” he said.

  “Your mom?”

  “On her way. I want to see Faras arrested.”

  Beth cast Ty a winning smile. “Just what I was thinking.”

  Unfortunately, they arrived too late to be of much use, but just in time to see Faras led to Jake’s police cruiser in handcuffs. Ty met his gaze as Faras did a double take at Ty’s clothing and appearance. Ty felt satisfaction at seeing his former friend in handcuffs and he found gratification in knowing that Faras would no longer be preying on their people.

  It took the rest of the day for the FBI and tribal police to round up all the Wolf Posse members.

  Beth was back in her element as she and Forrest began the process of interrogating the suspects, starting with the Russians.

  Ty felt like a fifth wheel. Beth no longer needed him. The creeping realization dawned that she would never need him. He had served his purpose, helped her make the kind of case that would bring her notice, accolades and the transfer to a major field office that she so coveted. In helping her reach her dreams, he would lose her forever. It was in that moment of crystallizing awareness that he admitted to himself that he loved Beth and that, as usual, his life choices stank. Just once he’d like to make a move that didn’t end up kicking him back in the...teeth.

  Ty left Jake’s truck at tribal headquarters and walked to the clinic alone. Not that anyone noticed he was missing. Once inside, he found Kee. It was now after hours and Abbie was the only patient still here.

  “How’s she doing?” he asked.

  “She’s good. Whatever they gave her is wearing off. She’s tired, bruised and hungry.”

  “Hungry is good,” said Ty, the gratitude at his sister’s recovery warming him.

  Ty looked around. “Where’s Mom?”

  “Did you call her?” asked Kee.

  “I did. But that was a while ago.” Confusion morphed into a cold panic. It was hours ago.

  Kee’s voice held a note of concern. “I was going to call, but it got crazy busy here and...”

  Ty phoned the house and got no answer. He disconnected and met Kee’s worried gaze.

  “Call Jake. Send him to Mom,” said Ty, running back toward the door.

  “What? Why?” called Kee.

  He paused to look back at his brother’s worried face. “Dad. His parole.”

  “Oh, no!” said Kee.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ty reached his childhood home in Jake’s pickup and immediately spotted a problem with Burt’s truck. The driver’s side door gaped and Ty’s worry solidified into certainty. His father was here. Ty narrowed his eyes, finding no unfamiliar vehicle. The absence did not reassure him. His father didn’t have a truck of his own. In fact, he would have only what possessions had been returned to him upon release. Likely he got here by bus or caught a ride.

  Ty thought back to that day when he was convicted, picturing the sports jacket, shirt and jeans. His father’s appearances in court had been the only time he’d ever seen his father dressed like that.

  He took his foot off the gas and the truck glided past his mother’s place. His dad did not know Jake’s truck, and if Ty didn’t stop, he might not realize he had company. He glanced at the dashboard clock, which read 6:00 p.m. The Doka girls, fostering with his mom, should all be home from school. As if having their mother arrested for drug trafficking was not enough, now his father had broken into their life.

  Ty fumed as he acknowledged that in one way he and his father were alike. They were both dangerous when angry. But unlike his father, Ty preferred to settle scores without the other party knowing Ty had done anything at all. He’d pulled that off once with his father. He’d never do it again. But he didn’t need to broadcast his arrival.

  Ty parked behind the neighbors’ place and crept through the backyard, past the fire pit and the circle of mismatched lawn chairs. He reached the rear door and paused, squatting below the level of the windows. The daylight had faded, and in the twilight it would be difficult for anyone inside to see out. But if the lights were on, it would be perfect for him to see in.

  He lifted himself up high enough to peer inside. He knew his mother did not lock the doors except at night, so it was likely still open. Nothing moved inside the kitchen. At this hour, his mother should be preparing supper, but the room was empty. Her absence here was as worrisome as her absence from
Abbie’s bedside.

  The knob was cold in his hand as he slowly turned it. A moment later he was inside.

  “Leave him be, Colton!” That was his mother’s voice and Colton was what she had always called Ty’s father. The idea of fighting his father turned his stomach as much as the belief that he might very well lose. Like him, Colton Redhorse did not fight fair.

  Ty continued through the empty kitchen toward the sound of his mother’s voice. He’d forgotten the way her voice went high and quavered when she confronted her ex-husband’s rages.

  “I got your message. Divorce papers, order of protection. Funny, but no one asked me if I wanted a divorce.”

  Where was Burt? Ty wondered as he tried to push back the terrible possibilities that rose in his mind. His father would not tolerate a rival.

  “This sack of turd is my replacement?” asked his father. There was the thumping sound of something striking something hollow, followed by a groan.

  Burt, Ty suspected, was down.

  There was a cry from one of the Doka girls, followed by his father’s shout.

  “Shut up!”

  How often had his father told him the same thing?

  Ty stepped into plain view, his gaze sweeping the living room. His mother sat on the very edge of her chair beside her cane, her damaged foot wrapped in its special stocking with gauze covering the place where her amputated toes should have been. His mother’s diabetes made her dizzy and weak at times and the surgeries decreased her mobility.

  On the floor between the coffee table and his mother’s chair was Burt Rope. Burt was motionless, bleeding from a head wound, and seemed to be only semiconscious.

  The three Doka girls, Jackie, Shirley and Winnie, were all huddled together on the floor before the muted television. Behind them, the evening news flashed video of other tragedies. Ty focused on the one unfolding before him.

  His father had not seen him yet, as his back was to Ty and he was concentrating on winding up to kick Burt again.

  “Welcome home, Pop,” said Ty, leaning indolently on the door frame.

  Colton Redhorse spun about.

  “Kee?” he asked.

  Ty smirked. “Nope.”