The Warrior's Way. Jenna Kernan

a fine bright September day. The air was cooler at this elevation and it made her homesick for Black Mountain. Everything was green now after the annual monsoonal rains and those, too, reminded her of home.

      “I’m sure I can make some useful suggestions,” she said. Suggestions like recommending they all move to higher ground if they believed the threat was viable.

      She looked to the yellow-and-white rock face that rose on the far plain beyond the flowing water. The Hakathi River threaded through the wide plain. This land, even this office, had once been river bottom. But that was before the dam had captured the water—before the government stole this land and then gave it back to the Turquoise Canyon people.

      Bright September sunlight glinted on the glassy surface. The placid winding river didn’t fool her. It was dangerous, the vanguard of what lay above their settlements.

      “Will that be all right, Sophia?” A man’s voice snapped her back to attention. It was Luke who had posed the question.

      She lifted her brow at Luke in a gesture that she hoped would alert him that she had not heard a word.

      Luke steepled his hands together as if preparing for prayer. “Sophia has been in all the recent briefings, but the Bureau did not put forth your theory. I think it would be of benefit to share it now.”

      She agreed with that. And listening to their problems sure beat worrying about hers. The minimum administrative leave was five days. But she was already past that. Was that bad? And when exactly would they give her the “pertinent information” they promised her? Last she’d heard the autopsy was complete. When would they release her weapon?

      “Yes, I’d appreciate that,” she said as she turned to the chief, but she could not resist another look at the detective.

      His hair was short, dark and thick with a definite wave. She’d like to rake her hands through that hair.

      Chief Tinnin pushed the gum to his cheek, placing it there like chewing tobacco.

      “Ms. Rivas, our tribe isn’t convinced that the threat of the eco-extremist group BEAR has been neutralized by the death of their leader, Theron Wrangler.”

      Her office had gone over this in a briefing before the shooting. During the devastating wildfires in July, a prominent citizen and eco-advocate had been murdered. Suspicion had been cast on his wife, Lupe Wrangler, but no evidence was found and she was cleared.

      “We feel BEAR is alive and well and that our reservoir system is a likely target for attack.”

      BEAR was the acronym for Bringing Earth Apocalyptic Restoration. In layman’s terms, they wanted to blow man back to the Stone Age, where he couldn’t destroy the planet. Some part of her believed man was the earth’s biggest threat. But she was no eco-warrior.

      Luke surprised her by revealing information she felt proprietary.

      “The FBI believes that the death of Theron Wrangler has crippled their organization,” said Luke.

      Bear Den took it from there. “A member of our society witnessed Lupe Wrangler shoot her husband.”

      Luke rubbed his forehead and then picked up where Bear Den had left off. “We could find no proof, no evidence to support this man’s claim that Lupe Wrangler killed her husband.”

      Bear Den broke in, his voice now containing a dangerous edge. “Her daughter also witnessed the shooting. You have two witnesses.”

      “Nonetheless, the Bureau could not break Lupe Wrangler’s alibi.”

      “She should be in custody,” said Tinnin.

      “I agree and I’m here doing what I can.” He had his hand on his neck again, massaging away the tension that now crackled in the room.

      “We believe the witnesses. It’s not over.”

      She now recalled the theory that Wrangler’s death might trigger sleeper cells to action. Could these men be right? She decided to proceed as if the threat was viable, as she had been trained to do, until she knew otherwise.

      “Tribal Thunder contends that this is not over,” said Jack Bear Den.

      “Tribal Thunder?” she asked.

      “These men are Tribal Thunder.” Luke motioned to Tinnin and Bear Den. “It’s the warrior sect of their medicine society.”

      She knew about medicine societies—mostly that they were misogynistic groups, all male and secret as heck. Sophia looked from one to the other and speculated on their activities. Certainly protecting their people would be their prime objective.

      “Just a few ground rules before you two visit the dam.” Tinnin pinned her with his eyes—he no longer looked tired, but was rather deadly serious. “You will be with one of my men at all times.”

      Her gaze went to Bear Den. It was him, of course. She knew it and the prospect excited and terrified her.

      “Detective Bear Den will escort you.”

      “That’s not necessary.”

      Tinnin glanced to Luke and then back to her. “Your cousin wants assurances you are protected because of the recent incident. He and your supervisors feel there may be an ongoing threat.”

      She doubted that. Sophia glanced at Bear Den. He looked capable, but an FBI agent did not need the protection of a small-town cop.

      “Detective Bear Den is very good and knows the territory,” said her cousin. “He’s an ex-marine. Weapons specialist. He’s been a tribal detective for seven years here and knows the terrain. He is an honored member of his medicine society, the Turquoise Guardians, and of the elite warrior society, Tribal Thunder. He’s their best.”

      Best of nine, she thought.

      “You can trust him to keep you safe.”

      Bear Den spoke to her and his voice was deep and rich as dark coffee. She loved the sound.

      “My honor,” he said.

      She cast him a dubious look and he inclined his chin, as if readying for a fight.

      “Detective Bear Den will make sure you are safe,” said Luke. “It’s a condition of your consultation.”

      “My supervisor onboard with this?”

      “He had no objections.”

      She blew out her frustration. “Fine.”

      “So you will have protection 24/7,” said Tinnin.

      “Maybe twenty-four. Certainly not seven. This won’t take as long as you think,” Sophia assured him. Her confident smile was met with silence. “I’d like to get started.”

      Because the sooner they started, the sooner she could get out of here.

      “Detective Bear Den will bring you up to the closest reservoir now,” said Luke. Bear Den cast her a wicked smile.

      And that was when it happened. Her body, always reliable, and her mind, always predictable, both short-circuited at once. Her stomach flipped as she squinted at him trying to figure how the upturning of his lips could make her go all jittery inside. She met the steady stare and the challenge with a smile of her own. The connection grew. He had an air of confidence and a physicality that inspired her to all kinds of bad ideas.

      “Check in with me tonight, okay?” said her cousin. “Let me know when you expect to be finished your consultation and I’ll come get you.”

      She tore her gaze from the detective.

      “Sure thing,” she promised.

      “We’ll make sure she stays in touch,” said Tinnin.

      He handed her a large boxy black Motorola radio that looked a decade old. She clipped it to the waistband of her slacks.

      “You ready for a tour?”