“Here he comes!” Katie called.
Damn! Joe had forgotten to place the meat on the perch. The bird landed with a flap of his wings, his yellow eyes focused on him.
“Yeah, I screwed up,” he muttered to the hawk. After digging into his pouch, he found the meat. He placed it on the thumb of his glove and lifted it. Instantly, Hank leaned forward and grasped it in his beak.
“You gotta stay awake,” Katie called and laughed as she walked to the east perch.
“I know,” Joe called out. “Sorry...”
“Not to worry.” Katie placed meat on the perch. She watched Hank fly swiftly to where she stood. Smiling, she saw Joe place meat on the perch next to him, and the bird took off like a rocket, wings causing air turbulence around her, lifting strands of her black hair from around her face. Katie liked Joe’s work ethic. Clearly, Eddie had taught him well. Joe didn’t get flustered or tense and the raptors liked him.
Walking toward Joe, she said, “Go ahead and put Hank on your gauntlet. He’s had his breakfast and we’ll put him back into the mew. The next bird out will be Quest. I want to fly her in the oval and she can have her breakfast out here.”
“Okay,” he called and Hank hopped onto his glove. Wrapping the jesses between his fingers, Joe brought the red-tailed hawk down to a comfortable height so he could hold him steady. Hank was ruffling his feathers and shaking them.
“That’s a good sign,” Katie said as she walked up to Joe. “A bird that trusts you will always ruffle its feathers. It shows it’s relaxed and happy.”
Inner relief flowed through Joe as he walked with Katie back to the facility. “Hank is a nice hawk. He’s easy to handle.”
Katie entered the building and stood aside as Joe walked in with Hank. “Well, now you’re going to get to handle Quest. She’s a piece of work.” Katie walked with him down the aisle to Hank’s mew. Joe entered and closed the door behind him. “Quest was shot in Canada and a hiker found her limping around on the ground. He cast her in his T-shirt and hand-carried her to a vet. She doesn’t trust men at all. I don’t know if it’s from being wrapped in the T-shirt or she hated the man who shot her. Or both...”
Joe nodded and came out of the mew with Quest. Turning, he locked the door. “A lot of raptors hate being cast. It makes them feel out of control and trapped.”
“Casting a falcon is really hard on its psyche. They’re more easily stressed. More so than a hawk or eagle.” Katie stood near the cage. She met his gaze. “I like the way you work with my raptors. I’d like to offer you the job, Joe. What do you say?”
CHAPTER FOUR
SHOULD SHE TRY to get in touch with her daughter...or not? Janet Bergstrom sat in the office of Mercury Courier, rubbing her aching head. She had the window open so her cigarette smoke would drift outside. With her fingers drumming on the chipped walnut desk she’d picked up at Goodwill years ago, Janet pursed her mouth. What to do? She glanced out the window and saw storm clouds gathering across the city of Cheyenne. It was summer and they could use the water.
The door to her office was closed but she had exquisite hearing. Janet could hear the bells tinkle as the door opened and another customer arrived. Her help, one of the Los Lobos drug soldiers, Pablo, would take care of the package to be sent by courier. Turning in her squeaky wooden chair, Janet finished off her cigarette and stubbed it out in a green glass ashtray on the corner of her desk.
She stood, realizing she needed to move around. She could never sit still for too long. Running her polished red fingernails through her dyed blond hair, she started to pace. On her desk was a photo taken by a nurse of the baby she’d given up twenty-six years earlier. It was the only photo Janet had of her baby girl. What to do? What to do? She rubbed her damp hands down the sides of her dark green polyester slacks. Janet struggled to think.
Earlier, she’d slipped out the back door and into the alley and smoked part of a joint. A little weed was the only thing that could calm her raw, jittery nerves. But she couldn’t keep a thought in her head. Her mind swung back to her daughter she’d given away so long ago. Should she try to contact Katie Bergstrom in person? On a whim, Janet had driven from Cheyenne to the Elk Horn Ranch where her daughter was living. For years she’d followed her daughter’s career via the Jackson Hole newspaper. She enjoyed the articles on Katie and the raptors. Twice, Janet had chickened out at the front gate of the ranch, parked off the road, trying to build up courage to meet Katie.
“Damn fear,” she said in a gravelly tone, turning on her heel. To hell with it. Janet jerked open the back door. She was desperate for some fresh air. If Pablo needed her, he knew where to find her. Stepping into the alley, Dumpsters on either side of her, three-story redbrick buildings rising around her, Janet wished she was out in nature. She hated cities, even Cheyenne. She preferred the quiet of a rural town.
Fingers trembling, she pulled out the rest of her joint from her pocket. The lighter was always in the other pocket. Placing the joint between her red lips, she lit it and inhaled deeply. She dropped the lighter back into her pocket and began her ambling walk down the empty alley, puffing and holding the smoke in her lungs. The small road was closed off at one end and open at the other. Her car, a gray Subaru that had seen better days, was parked near the rear entrance to her business. Peering out of the alley, Janet watched the traffic zooming back and forth on the four-lane street. The noise and hustle of Cheyenne was diminished by the alley. This was a place where Janet felt somewhat safe.
As she walked, her mind shorted out as it always did and she forced herself to think about contacting her daughter again. What was driving her to do it? Maybe, at age forty-two, her hormones were changing and she was going into menopause? Or maybe age was maturing her a little? Most likely, it was the daily guilt that continued to gnaw at her. Yes, that was it. Guilt. Damned guilt! There wasn’t a day gone by that Janet hadn’t thought of her daughter.
Pushing her fingers through her short hair, Janet exhaled a small gust of smoke, finding calm gradually descending over her edgy nerves. She had just gotten her hair cut and shaped yesterday. As she moved her fingers across her oval face, she could feel wrinkles forming here and there. Janet had thought the new hairstyle would make her look younger. Xavier Lobos, her lover from Guatemala, would be visiting her later today. She critically studied her carefully pressed slacks. God knew, she dieted all the time.
Xavier... Janet halted in the middle of the alley, yearning filling her. How long had it been since they’d made love? Six months? Way too long! Janet felt threads of happiness winding through her chest. She loved the cartel leader with a desperation that drove her crazy. If it wasn’t guilt over giving up Katie, it was missing Xavier’s arms around her.
Her addled brain focused on her daughter. Somehow, Janet wanted to contact Katie. What would she do? Say? Would she be angry? Pissed off, tell her to take a hike? Janet felt anxiety zigzagging through her, erasing her excitement over Xavier’s arrival. Angry that she was allowing fear to run her, Janet finished off the last of the joint. Turning, she walked back to her office.
Pablo, who was twenty-one, entered her office just as she sat down.
“What is it?”
He closed the door and spoke in Spanish. “Señorita Janet, Don Xavier just contacted me. He said to tell you he’ll be here in one hour.”
Nodding, Janet sat down. “Good. Thanks, Pablo.”
“Si, señorita.”
Alone once more, Janet got to her feet. She moved to the bathroom and turned on the light. Xavier was a sinfully handsome dude. She critically studied herself in the dirty mirror over the sink. Liking the short cut, Janet had dyed her black hair a blond shade yesterday. Xavier liked blondes. Oh, she knew he had a lovely young wife in Guatemala who shared his bed, but when he came for a visit, she became his bedmate. Janet lived for these meetings. Staring at her oval face, she picked up her pan
cake makeup and added a bit more. Her cheeks looked pale so she added blusher. Janet added blue eye shadow. Lastly, mascara to make her short, thin lashes look fuller. Now, as she studied herself in the mirror, Janet felt beautiful. Once again, her lover would arrive and sweep her into his arms. Xavier knew how to treat her right. He would reserve a room at the most expensive hotel in Cheyenne, wine and dine her. They would make desperate, torrid love two or three times a night. Janet felt her breasts and lower body contracting with need of his masterful touch once again.
* * *
XAVIER LOBOS WALKED through the rear door of Mercury Courier. He knew Cheyenne well. Since she was eighteen Janet Bergstrom had fronted his drugs and arms efforts in order to establish a base of operations in the States. Quietly closing the door, he found Janet standing, her face filled with happiness as he stepped like a shadow into her office.
“Xavier!” Janet cried, throwing her arms around his lean shoulders.
He smiled slightly and took her full weight. Janet was five feet six inches tall and he was two inches taller than she. As he pulled her into his arms, he thought she looked old and tired. “It’s good to see you again,” he whispered in Spanish near her ear. He could smell the dye in the strands of her hair. She always wore heavy perfume and he hated the odor. Wrinkling his nose, Xavier forced himself to hold the embrace for a proper amount of time. Janet used to be beautiful, curves in all the right places. Now, she was overweight, breasts beginning to hang, her skin sagging everywhere. Xavier knew drugs could turn youth into old age in a matter of years. And Janet, the addict she had always been, never gave up her drug habit no matter how many times he’d pleaded with her to get clean. He kissed her, trying to put passion into the meeting of their lips, telling himself this was necessary because she was his anchor in Wyoming. He needed to keep her happy. Xavier visited his people in the States every year. It was wise to keep tabs on them and make sure they remained loyal to his cartel.
“Oh, Xavier!” Janet said brokenly, tears in her eyes, “I’ve missed you so much!” She stared up into his dark brown eyes framed with thick, long lashes. Xavier always wore his black hair over his ears. His thick, black mustache only made him look more dashing—and dangerous. She slid her lacquered nails across his shaven cheek. “You look so good.” And then her voice dropped to a whine. “I’m so lonely....”
“Hush, sweet one,” he said, kissing her wrinkled brow. He saw the pancake makeup sitting in lines across her forehead. “I’ve come to rescue you, take you on a magical carpet ride for tonight.” He forced a big smile and held her at arm’s length. “Come, I have the hotel prepared. Only the best for you, Janet.”
All her depression melted beneath his hooded stare. Her gaze settled on his full mouth. What a wonderful lover Xavier was! Her body literally ached to feel his hands playing her like a beloved instrument. “Oh, yes, I’m ready!”
“Good, then come. First, we will have dinner in the room, talk business, and then—” his mouth pulled slowly into a feral grin “—our bodies will whisper lovingly to one another all night.” Xavier knew he had to keep Janet satisfied. She was the hub of his business in Wyoming, and he was wisely making plans to move his work elsewhere. Janet would never know of his plans, of course. He was going to manipulate her into creating a second courier business based in Jackson Hole, where he would establish a second hub for the state and beyond.
“It sounds wonderful!” Janet sighed, picking up her purse. “Let’s go!”
* * *
“WELL, DID YOU HIRE JOE?” Iris asked as she came into Katie’s office area.
Turning in her chair, Katie smiled. “I did. He’s perfect, Iris.”
“And your raptors behaved?” Iris stood in the entrance leading to the mews, smiling down at her.
Laughing, Katie nodded. She touched the résumé Joe had left with her. “He’s a really nice person.”
“What’s good about Joe is that he’s a local,” Iris said, lifting the straw hat off her head.
“And I like the idea of hiring a military veteran,” Katie said. “So many of them are having trouble finding a job after returning home.”
“Yes, Rudd and I like your choice for all those reasons.” She studied Katie for a moment. “I need to sit for a spell and talk to you about something important. Do you have a moment?”
“Sure, sit down.” Katie moved a chair to the side of the desk for Iris. “Are you feeling all right?”
Iris said, “I’m fine. Don’t worry, I may look old but I’m not going anywhere soon.” She grinned and set her straw hat on the desk. “I need to let you know I’ve been up to something that involves you.”
“Oh?” Katie noticed how serious Iris had become. It unnerved her. She was always worried her world would take another unexpected turn. Katie never got used to the ups and downs, twists and turns her life took. Moving to the Elk Horn Ranch had given her a modicum of stability she’d never had before and she found herself liking it. Maybe too much? She held her breath as Iris became pensive. Fear entered her heart. Something was wrong. What was it?
Reaching out, Iris must have seen the anxiety come to Katie’s eyes. Gently, she said, “I hired a woman investigator to look for your mother, Katie.”
Eyes widening, Katie gasped. “You did?”
“Yes, because I know you’ve spent your entire life looking for her and coming up empty-handed.” Her fingers tightened over Katie’s hand.
Heart starting a slow pound, Katie looked into Iris’s narrowed eyes. The words whispered out of her mouth were loaded with anguish. “Did she find her?”
“Yes, my investigator found Janet Bergstrom. I know the state is never going to open up its sealed records and give you want you want. You didn’t realize it, but your mother allowed you to have her surname. I know this is an anchor around your neck, Katie. After getting to know you over the past year, I felt you deserved some help. I know your dream is to make a connection with your mother.”
Automatically, Katie’s fingers brushed against her pounding heart. “You found her? Where? Does she live in Wyoming? Or somewhere else?” Katie had never thought to look for a Bergstrom because the state never told her one way or another if that was her real mother’s name. She felt as if she was going to suffocate.
Patting her hand, Iris released it. “I’m going to invite my PI, Norah Merton, to come in and share the information she’s discovered. Would you like to hear what she found?”
“I would.” She stood up and slipped her arms around the older woman. She kissed Iris on the cheek. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”
Chuckling, Iris hugged her back and said, “Let’s get Norah in here, then.”
Katie was reeling in shock. By the time she had brought another chair over to her desk, a tall woman in her fifties had entered the facility.
“Katie, meet Norah Merton,” Iris said. “Norah, this is the young woman you’re working for.”
“Hi, Ms. Merton. It’s nice to meet you.” Katie winced as she heard her voice crack with emotion. The tall, slender woman wore a cream-colored linen pantsuit with a white silk blouse beneath it. She seemed elegant, her dark brown hair coiffed and shoulder-length. The sparkle in her hazel eyes made Katie feel a little less tense.
“Hi, Katie. Nice to meet you, finally. Mind if we all sit down and I’ll give you my report?”
“Please,” Katie said, gesturing to her chair. Iris sat down and so did she. Clasping her hands in her lap, Katie tried to sit still. She chewed on her lower lip as the woman pulled out a file from a black calfskin briefcase she carried.
“I’ve got a lot of information for you, Katie,” Norah said. “And some of it is very upsetting.” Her voice lowered and she went on. “Janet Bergstrom gave you up for adoption when she was sixteen years old. You were born in Cheyenne, Wyoming. Your birth mother gave you her last name. And that made it
a lot easier for me to track her down.”
“She was sixteen?” Katie said, thinking about herself at that age.
“It’s very young to become pregnant,” Iris consoled her.
Norah nodded. “Normally, when a teen becomes pregnant, her family steps in. That wasn’t the case. Candy Bergstrom, Janet’s mother, was a drug addict herself. Janet was born with cocaine in her system. Candy gave Janet up for adoption right after birth. It was the start of a pattern. When Janet gave birth to you, she gave you her name, Bergstrom, and gave you up at birth. But she lied about who your father was. She put down Lawrence Kincaid, but there is no proof he ever existed. Janet probably lied to protect the real father for whatever reason. That means I wasn’t able to trace your grandparents, either. I’m sorry.”
She felt as if someone had struck her in the chest with a hammer. Katie touched her heart. “At least I know,” she managed in a strained voice. “What else?”
“Candy Bergstrom died at age forty of hepatitis B. She got the disease through a dirty needle. She died of liver failure.”
“Did...my mother know her mother?”
Shaking her head, Norah said, “No. I don’t know if your mother tried to find out or not.”
Norah handed Katie several black and white photos. “I found these photos of Candy Bergstrom at the Cheyenne Police Department. She was up on drug charges at least ten times in her life.”
Katie stared down at the mug shots. There were some full-face and two profiles of her grandmother. “I can see the shape of my face in her face,” she said in a low voice. But that was all. Lifting her head, she asked, “Do you have photos of my mother?”
Norah nodded and handed her three photos. “These are mug shots too, Katie. You need to prepare yourself. Your mother, Janet Bergstrom, was in federal prison for five years.”
The Defender Page 6
