Free Tribal Law by Jenna Kernan Page B

detailing. The car was as practical as a parasol in an ice storm, but it certainly had flash.
    The driver emerged. He was young, perhaps twenty, with a thin, angular face. His clothing was new and baggy, perfect for concealing a weapon. The dark glasses and flat-brimmed hat disguised his eyes. This could be no one other than Pablo Nota, Escalanti’s minion.
    He lowered the shades to check out the new arrival.
    â€œWho’s this?” he said.
    â€œI’m Ronald Hare, Mr. Dosela’s parole officer. And you are?”
    It was like watching two cars slide toward each other on ice. Selena knew they were going to collide and she was powerless to stop them.
    â€œThis is my daughter’s boyfriend,” her father said.
    Selena did not think she quite managed to hide her horrified expression.
    â€œI see.” Mr. Hare regarded Nota.
    Nota hesitated, hands still in his jacket pockets.
    Her father spoke to Nota.
    â€œThis is my parole officer, Mr. Hare, making an unannounced visit.”
    Nota’s hesitation was brief. He plastered a wide smile on his face and nodded his greeting, keeping both hands in his pockets.
    Selena didn’t want to think what he had in there.
    Hare drew back his extended hand.
    After an uncomfortable silence, her father spoke again.
    â€œShe’s just getting her coat,” said her father and pushed Selena toward the door. “You want to come in, son?”
    â€œNaw. I’ll wait here.”
    Her father turned to their second guest. “Come on in, Mr. Hare.”
    Hare took a good look at her father and hesitated, staring at the healing gash and lump. “Jeez. What happened to you?”
    Her father didn’t miss a beat. “Don’t remember. Got pretty drunk last night. Woke up on the kitchen floor with this.” He pointed at his head.
    He did not wait for Hare to follow them but shoved Selena toward the door and followed her inside.
    â€œYou’ll have to go alone,” said her father.
    â€œBut...” Selena looked out the small window in the door. “Hare is on the phone.” She glanced to her father. “Quick. Call Gabe.”
    Her father hurried to the phone and had it in his hand when Hare stepped in. Her father lowered the phone.
    Ronald Hare looked from one to the other. Selena found his eyes too alert and his smile somehow threatening.
    Her mother shuffled into the room still in her robe.
    Her father motioned to their uninvited guest. “Ruthie, you remember Ronnie Hare, my parole officer?”
    Mr. Hare greeted her mother in Apache. Her father walked Selena to the door where he gave her an unexpected hug and pressed something into her hand. She took it knowing by touch it was the tracking anklet that he was supposed to be wearing at all times.
    â€œTake it,” he whispered.
    The minute she left the yard the unit would beep. It would alert Dryer that they were in trouble and tell him where they were. Unfortunately it would also cause the base unit to emit a high-pitched shrieking alarm the minute she left the yard. How was her father going to explain that to Hare?
    She shoved the tracker in her pocket and drew back.
    â€œSee you soon,” she said, then nodded to the parole officer.
    Behind her she heard her father telling Hare to come into the kitchen for some coffee. He preceded her father who stooped and tore the wires from the monitoring unit so it would not sound an alarm if the bracelet moved out of range. They had told her father that they could track him with the anklet. Could they also track her? When she moved past the driveway, the alarm would sound only on the anklet. How was she supposed to keep Nota from hearing it?
    Selena headed out to meet Escalanti’s man. How long did the device beep?
    â€œHe can’t come,” she said. Should she just drop the tracker out the window as she left the drive?
    â€œNo kidding. Let’s go.” He headed toward her truck. Nota slowed as they