The Defender

Home > Other > The Defender > Page 7
The Defender Page 7

by Lindsay McKenna


  Katie’s hand shook as she took the photos from Norah. “Prison?” Her voice cracked.

  “Yes. Your mother grew up in ten different foster homes. I can only surmise she was rebellious but I can’t prove it. At sixteen, she was impregnated by someone, but we don’t know who it was. Your mother gave you up after birth and got tangled up with a drug-cartel boss named Xavier Lobos. When your mother was thirty years old, the FBI caught her running guns to Montana. She never gave up Xavier Lobos in court and went to prison for five years because she refused to cooperate with the FBI. They offered her a plea deal if she’d turn in the evidence, but Janet refused.”

  “My mother’s a drug dealer?” Hot tears jammed her eyes. Valiantly, Katie tried to handle the shocking news. She felt Iris grip her hand to comfort her. The older woman was also moved to tears. “This...this is awful.... I had dreamed my parents were great people, important...successful.... God, I was so wrong...”

  “I know, honey,” Iris whispered. “I know you thought your mother was someone special, that she had a good life and was happy.”

  Norah added in a sad tone, “So often, abandoned children grow up with an incredible dream that their parents are accomplished, successful and happy.” Opening her hands, the investigator said, “Unfortunately, it’s usually the opposite, Katie. A young teen mother has no home support, so she gives up her baby. And sometimes, she spirals down after that instead of trying to mature and remake her life into something positive.”

  Katie wiped her eyes with trembling fingers. She sniffed. “You’re right, Norah. I had these crazy dreams my mother was a pilot, a ballet dancer or maybe a famous artist....”

  Iris said, “Honey, as you know, Rudd was adopted by Trevor and me. We know how painful it is for someone like yourself to discover her roots. And often, it’s not what you might have imagined. You’re looking pale. Do you want to take a break? Maybe get some coffee at the ranch house? Or would you prefer Norah come back another time? I know this is a lot to absorb.”

  Katie squeezed the older woman’s work-worn hand. “No, I’m so thankful you hired Norah. At least now I know the truth. I can stop worrying and wondering who my mother was....”

  Iris nodded to the private investigator. “Go on, Norah. Katie might look young and innocent, but she’s tough on the inside.”

  “Okay,” Norah said with a slight smile. She turned and focused on Katie. “After being released from prison, your mother went to Guatemala. She remained there for a year. I can’t get any information on her there except that the police had proof she was living with Xavier Lobos. And then she moved back to Cheyenne. At that point, she built Mercury Courier service. It’s a state-wide courier service delivering packages and other communications around the state. I’m assuming Xavier Lobos underwrote her business. She didn’t have any income that I could detect. In other words, the police and FBI suspect but can’t prove she’s being bankrolled by Lobos.”

  Dragging in a ragged breath, Katie couldn’t take her gaze off the black-and-white mug shots of her mother. Her hands turned damp and cool as she touched the photos. “She’s still a drug dealer, then?”

  “Most likely,” Norah said, “but again, understand the authorities can’t prove it. If she is, she’s very good at it. Janet’s been out of prison seven years and hasn’t been caught. Maybe she’s not aligned with the Lobos cartel. I think you should assume she’s innocent until proven otherwise. Many times, prison will change a person for the better.”

  “She’s really beautiful, isn’t she?” Katie said, still mesmerized by her mother’s photo.

  Iris heard the wistfulness in Katie’s voice. “Yes, Janet is very attractive, but so are you.”

  “We—look a lot alike, don’t we?” She lifted her gaze to Iris, whose face had gone tender with sympathy.

  “Very much,” Iris agreed. “Listen, Katie, no one in this life is perfect. We all make awful mistakes. I hope, like Norah, that your mother straightened out after leaving prison. And that she’s gone on to become a successful businesswoman.”

  “Norah, do you have a phone number for her?” Katie asked.

  “I do.” She handed Katie the information sheet. “Everything you want to know is here.”

  Feeling dizzy as the file with the information slipped between her fingers, Katie stared down at it, unable to speak. Finally, after twenty-six years, she knew where her mother lived, what she did for a living and her phone number. God, how many times had she dreamed of this moment? Closing her eyes, Katie pressed the file to her breast. The only sounds she heard were her breath and her pounding heart. My mother. And all it would take was one phone call. One. Opening her eyes, Katie stared over at Norah, who had a very compassionate expression on her face. This was probably not the first time Norah had been hired to hunt down a missing parent.

  “Thank you, Norah. This means the world to me. Truly, it does.” Katie reached over and squeezed the woman’s hand.

  “I wish I had happier news for you, Katie. I never know where the leads will go or what will be revealed. It’s always a journey.”

  Raising her brows, Katie placed the file on the desk. “That’s it, isn’t it? We’re all on a journey?”

  “It’s lifelong,” Iris agreed. “Would you like to ask Norah any more questions? She’ll leave her full report with you.”

  “No...not right now.” Katie managed a tight smile. “I need time just to take all of this in. It’s...shocking.”

  “You can call me at any time, Katie,” Norah said. She handed her a business card. “Iris has paid for my services. All the information I’ve shared with you is private. No one else will ever have it unless you decide to divulge it.”

  “That’s good to know,” Katie replied. “I don’t think many of my friends would think as highly of me if they knew my mother had been in prison.” Her voice fell and she rubbed her head. “I mean...”

  “We know what you mean,” Iris said. “Okay, we’re leaving. If you need me, you know where I am. If you want to talk, I’m here for you, Katie.” She gave the young woman a warm look. “You’re like another granddaughter to me, Katie. You’re beautiful, you have a good heart and you treat people right. That’s why I wanted you here on the Elk Horn. You do good things for people and animals. And now, let me be here if you need someone to listen.”

  Katie stood when Iris rose from her chair and gently hugged her. “Thank you, Iris. I’ve always seen you as my fairy godmother who cares.” Katie released her and held the woman’s tear-filled gaze. She realized Iris was crying for her.

  “You’re not alone in this, Katie,” was all Iris could choke out. After giving her a swift peck on the cheek, Iris walked to the sliding-glass door.

  “Norah, thank you for all you’ve done,” Katie said, her voice wobbly. “You’ve given me back my life, whether you realize it or not.”

  Warmly shaking Katie’s hand, the investigator nodded. “Call me if you have questions, okay?”

  “Okay.” Katie watched the two women leave. Behind her, Sam shrieked. She knew from long experience that raptors could easily pick up on a human’s emotions. And right now, she felt as if a tank had run its treads over her heart and torn it apart in her chest.

  Sam chut-chut-chutted. He flapped his long wings from his perch.

  “It’s okay, Sam,” she called. “I’m okay. Really, I am...”

  The eagle tilted his head, his yellow eyes piercing as he studied Katie in the aisleway. His whistle carried loudly throughout the facility.

  Tears formed in Katie’s eyes as she walked back to her desk. Sam knew she wasn’t all right. Staring at the pictures and the report, Katie released a ragged breath. Tears spilled silently down her drawn cheeks. Suddenly, the make-believe world she had lived in for twenty-six years had been forever shattered.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SOME OF JOE’S HA
PPINESS eroded as he entered the raptor facility the next morning. Katie was sitting at the desk, poring over a file. She quickly shut it, as if embarrassed to be caught looking into it. Her eyes were reddened. Had she been crying? Joe didn’t expect the punch to his chest at seeing her so sad. Secretly, he was glad to see her again. “Good morning,” Joe said, stepping through the glass doors. He pulled the canvas bag containing his equipment off his shoulder. “Where would you like me to stow this?”

  His smiling face changed to one of worry. His gaze probed hers, as if silently asking her what was wrong. The file Norah had given her yesterday was beneath her hand. Nervously, Katie stood, leaving the file on her desk, and pointed to two nearby green metal lockers. “You can use the second locker next to my desk and put your equipment in there.” Katie walked across the aisle to the weighing station where she pulled plastic bags of meat out of the refrigerator.

  “Okay,” Joe said. Later, when Katie wasn’t around, he would try to see what was contained in the file. He heard the chirps of welcome from the raptors. Sam’s chutting was a lot louder. Glancing down the aisle, he asked, “How are the birds this morning?”

  “Fine, fine.” Katie’s hands shook as she finished putting either mouse meat or rabbit meat into the smaller bags. Her gut churned and she felt nauseous. She’d completely forgotten Joe was coming in for his first day of work at 8:00 a.m. She wasn’t emotionally prepared. She’d slept poorly because of nightmares in which Janet Bergstrom screamed at her to go away, not even to try to make contact. Katie had awakened at 3:00 a.m., sobbing into her pillow. She hadn’t been able to get back to sleep after that.

  She hoped Joe wouldn’t see she’d been crying. Every time she recalled yesterday’s conversation with Norah, tears would form. Girding herself, Katie forced down her feelings. She had to train Joe today. She heard the locker door open and close and turned as Joe pulled on his gauntlet. His handsome face had darkened with concern. Of course he could see she’d been crying. Great. Not exactly the foot she wanted to get off on with this trainee.

  “Everything okay?” Joe asked, keeping his voice even. Katie appeared disheveled this morning. Her black hair was mussed, as if she hadn’t combed it. Her face was pale, redness rimming her blue eyes. An acute desire to reach out and touch her shoulder took him by surprise.

  “Yes, yes, everything is fine,” Katie managed. Her voice sounded off-key even to her. Moving to the aisle, she said, “Joe, will you start on the left and go to the first mew? I’m a little out of sorts and the birds will feel it. Bring them up here one at a time. You weigh them, I’ll write down the numbers and then I’ll feed them. Afterward, you can return them to their mews. Okay?” She searched his pensive features. His green eyes were speculative and focused on her. A lump stubbornly remained in her throat. Grazing the area with her fingers, Katie added a limp smile to go along with her request.

  “Sure, no problem.” Joe turned and walked down to the first mew on the left. The name Moon was on the cage door. Below it: Barn Owl. He opened the mew. Moon was not to be seen and Joe knew she would be found in her wooden nest box since owls slept during the day. He peeked in and kept his voice soft.

  “Moon? You ready to be weighed?” Joe saw her heart-shaped white face lift. The barn owl had been sitting on the floor of the nest box, fast asleep. She revealed her round black eyes and opened her beak, as if to yawn. Joe forced himself to focus on the owl. He wanted to know why Katie was so upset. It had something to do with that file. His mind whirled with possibilities as he gently tapped the front of Moon’s box. A trained raptor knew the tapping meant they were to sit on the glove of the falconer. Moon stared sleepily at him.

  “I know, you haven’t had your coffee yet, Moon, but you gotta come to my glove,” he told her with a grin.

  Katie heard Joe talking to Moon. She looked around the corner. Joe was peering into the nest box, his glove even with the opening. She heard laughter in his tone as he spoke quietly to the owl. Her heart suddenly opened. Instead of pain, she felt a sense of calm. She studied Joe for a moment, really appraised his features and manners. He was dressed in a long-sleeved white cotton cowboy shirt and Levi’s. His dark brown hair was short and had been recently washed. She found herself liking his quiet demeanor and he certainly knew what he was doing with the raptors. Moon peered drowsily out of her nest box. Then she looked up at Joe, studying him. This was the first time Moon had seen him. He kept his glove on the lip of the box so she would climb onto it when she was ready.

  “Have you handled many owls?” Katie called.

  “No,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. Katie was standing in the aisle, a bag of food in her hand. It upset him to see how wan she looked. “Anything I should know about Moon?”

  “Owls are the opposite of hawks, falcons and eagles. They’re slower. Owls think a lot about something before they do it, unlike other raptors. Moon is memorizing your face right now. All birds memorize. Keep talking softly to her, gain her trust and eventually she’ll climb onto your glove.”

  Nodding, Joe kept up his quiet banter with the sleepy barn owl. Moon’s white breast feathers were dotted with caramel and black spots. “Listen, Moon, we got a bunch of hungry hawks, falcons and eagles in here. Are you going to hold up the breakfast line for all of them?” He grinned as Moon tilted her head, peering intently up at him. Then, unexpectedly, she hopped firmly on his glove. Her claws dug in, she fluffed her feathers and seemed content. Joe slowly eased her away from the nest box. Once out of the mew, he shut the door and walked Moon to the weighing station.

  Moon hopped on the perch to be weighed. Her attention was on Katie, who stood next to Joe. Moon’s focus was on her opening the bag that contained some delicious dead white mice; the barn owl keenly eyed her breakfast.

  Joe read off the numbers and Katie wrote them down on Moon’s file. The barn owl opened her beak and began a begging cry to Katie.

  “How old is Moon?” Joe asked, watching Katie pull out a dead mouse by its tail.

  “She’s three years old.” Katie lifted the mouse up and Moon gobbled it down in three gulps.

  “How did you acquire her?”

  “Moon was discovered in a rancher’s barn. She’d fallen out of her nest as a baby. The fall broke her right leg. The rancher discovered her on the floor, picked her up and called me. I drove over and got her.” Katie smiled softly as she fed Moon a second mouse. “She was nothing but a ball of fuzz and fluff. So ugly but so cute...”

  Smiling, Joe enjoyed the huskiness of Katie’s voice. It calmed him, yet excited him at the same time. She worked quietly and without any swift movements around Moon. “And she became an educational bird because of her broken leg?”

  “Yes, the break was an open fracture.” She glanced over at him. “Moon’s fracture was so bad the vet said she could never be released into the wild. If Moon pounced on prey, it would break her leg again.” Katie closed the bag and gently ran her index finger down the soft feathers of Moon’s breast. The barn owl gave her a begging look for another mouse. “No more, Moon. Your eyes are bigger than your stomach. Go ahead, Joe. Take her back to her nest box.”

  Joe placed his glove next to the perch for Moon to step upon. The owl continued to gaze adoringly over at Katie.

  With a slight chuckle, Katie said, “No, Moon, I’m not taking you back to your box. Joe is.” She tapped the thumb area of Joe’s proffered gauntlet. “Come on, you have to get used to having him take you back to your home.”

  The owl hopped on Joe’s glove.

  “Does Moon understand English?” he asked teasingly as he slowly lifted the gauntlet with Moon on board.

  Shaking her head, Katie managed a half smile. “No, but these birds are so psychic they pick up on what we want. As soon as you put Moon in her nest box, she’ll go back to sleep.”

  “Right.” Joe saw that Katie looked a bit more perky than before. He knew raptor
s had a phenomenal ability to change a person’s mood. It was bird magic, he decided. Once in the mew, the barn owl leaped from his glove back into her nest box, trundled around, sat down and promptly closed her eyes.

  Joe moved to the next mew, which contained two Harris’s hawks from Arizona. “Who’s first?” he called.

  Katie looked around the corner. “Take Maggie first. She always wears the red jesses on her legs. Her mate, Mac, wears blue ones.”

  “Got it,” Joe said, opening the mew. He knew the black-and-reddish-colored hawks from the southwestern desert of Arizona were among the few social hawks in the world. Many generations in the same family lived together. Maggie flew to a cottonwood branch, which acted as her perch. She was more than ready to hop on Joe’s glove. The hawk’s eyes were twinkling and he liked the ebullient energy around the Harris hawk. In the meantime, Mac sat on the back perch, shrieking and flapping his wings because he was going to be left behind.

  After shutting the mew, Joe brought up Maggie to the weight table. The hawk, unlike the owl, was fast. Before he even got his glove to the scale, Maggie flew to the perch. If hawks could smile, Joe thought she was smiling. “She’s hungry?”

  Katie laughed softly. “Not really. Maggie, you’ll find, has a mind of her own.”

  “I guess,” Joe said with a smile as he leaned down to read the hawk’s weight. “I like women with minds of their own.”

  Katie jotted down the numbers. Joe made her want to talk, to be closer. She liked the warmth that exuded from him like sunlight. While she felt great around him, there was also this black hole. She got the feeling she would never escape the depression hounding her. And yet, with Joe nearby, she felt a niggle of hope. How could he lift her spirits when she felt so despondent? After Katie fed the hawk, Joe took Maggie back to the mew and brought up Mac.

  As they worked seamlessly, Joe felt driven to try to establish a more personal connection with Katie. He knew he had to do it for professional reasons. Last night, after talking to his boss in Washington, D.C., Joe had hung up the phone not feeling good about it. The FBI was convinced Katie was a criminal. His gut told him she wasn’t, but he couldn’t convince Roger. At least, not yet. And every time Joe looked at Katie, his heart lurched in his chest. The reaction continued to surprise him. Joe had no idea what it was all about.

 

‹ Prev