that his brother did not want to speak to the FBI.
Carter glanced in the rearview at Amber. “You okay back there?”
She nodded, her eyes still unfocused. The one-thousand-yard stare, the marines called it. Shell shock, PTSD and usually a domain reserved to soldiers. She hadn’t signed up for this.
“I’m taking you to the station. I can arrange to have one of my guys there when the FBI interviews you.”
“Just get us home.”
He drove them to the station and into the squad room where all nine of the officers from their tribe had desks. The chief’s office was in the corner with windows looking out at the room. Jack’s desk sat by the window with a view of the parking area and the road beyond.
Jack motioned to the chair beside his desk, the one reserved for witnesses and suspects. Which was Amber? Carter wondered.
“I need to use the bathroom,” she said.
Jack gave her directions, and the brothers watched her exit to the hallway. Carter’s brother gave him a once-over.
“You all right?” asked Jack.
Carter shook his head. “I used to think so.”
His brother had served with him in Iraq. But after one tour, Jack had left the service. Now a detective, Jack was also a member of the Turquoise Guardians medicine society. Recently, Jack and Carter had also been inducted into Tribal Thunder. Their elite warrior band defending their people and their sacred land. Today Carter glimpsed the seriousness of their duty. How had Little Falcon known?
“Did you deliver the message?” asked Jack.
Carter patted his pocket. “Not yet.”
“What do you think it is?” asked Jack.
“A warning, maybe.” Carter met his brother’s troubled gaze with one of his own. They didn’t have to speak. Carter knew what Jack was thinking. He was also wondering if Kenshaw Little Falcon had prior knowledge of the mass shooting. The implications were staggering.
Jack pressed his mouth tight, clearly disagreeing. They were twins but did not resemble each other. Carter had features he thought were classic for the Tonto Apache people while Jack was built like a brick house. Carter wore his hair long and loose, but Jack clipped his dark brown hair short to avoid others seeing the natural curl, and had eyes that were closer to gray than brown. The differences didn’t end there; he was three inches taller and had thick eyebrows that peaked in a way that made Jack look dangerous even when he was just hanging out. There had been questions when they were growing up. They didn’t look like twins. They didn’t even look like brothers, and Jack didn’t look full-blood Apache. His skin was too light and his features too Anglo.
“The FBI has agents en route,” said Jack.
“Don’t let them take her, Jack,” said Carter. If she left their land, Carter couldn’t protect her. He knew it and Jack knew it.
Jack’s scowl made him look even more intimidating than usual.
“Anything on Ibsen?” asked Carter.
“Head shot. Dead. My buddy on highway patrol says it looks like the same shooter as at the mine. Can’t believe they missed the shooter twice. They’ve got helicopters, dogs, state and local cops, all searching and border patrol stopping everything heading south.”
“Think they made it before the roadblocks?” asked Carter.
“Impossible.”
“How do you think they got away?”
“Changed vehicles, split up. Likely they are within ten miles of where you saw them. They’re doing a house-to-house in Ibsen’s neighborhood.”
“That will take some time,” said Carter.
“I’m going to stick with Amber for a while,” he said, and Jack’s eyes narrowed, clearly not liking that plan.
“We should turn her over to the Feds.”
Now Carter was scowling because that was not going to happen.
“It’s my duty to protect her,” said Carter.
He referred to his duty as a Turquoise Guardian, to protect their people and their sacred land.
“Guardians protect the people. She’s no longer one of us.”
Carter glared at his brother. “She’s Apache. That’s enough.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
Jack grimaced but said no more. He’d been there to pick up the pieces after Amber had left. Carter wasn’t surprised that Jack was less than thrilled to have Amber back.
“Not again,” said Jack.
Carter met his brother’s warning with a glare of his own.
“She left. She didn’t write. She didn’t visit, not even after you were injured.”
“I saw her after I came home from the hospital.”
He hadn’t told Jack. A rare omission that clearly surprised his twin.
“But she left again.”
He couldn’t deny that. But he knew he’d shown her the door. He’d been so hurt and angry. Yeager had still been MIA, and his days were filled with horror and hope. She’d asked about Hatch Yeager.
What do you care, Amber? Really. You disappear for two years, and then you think I owe you answers. I don’t owe you a thing.
Carter met the disapproval in Jack’s words with a steady stare. “Yeah, she left again after I threw her out.”
Jack made a face. Carter couldn’t tell what his brother thought about that.
“Maybe she’s ready to come home,” said Carter.
And maybe he was ready to let her. After today that was at least a possibility.
Jack shook his head. “Maybe she had no other choice.”
Carter returned his attention to his brother, who raked a hand through his short brown hair. “What does that mean exactly?”
“She is a witness. They want her in federal custody.”
“We both saw him. He was at her boss’s house.”
“And her boss is dead, too. Everyone is dead but Amber.”
Carter didn’t like the way Jack said that, as if this were all somehow her fault.
“Can’t you just give her the message and forget about her?” Jack asked.
He’d never been able to forget about her. And oh,
