He’d bide his time. Lunch would come in three hours. Then he’d find out what was in the file.
CHAPTER SIX
“I HOPE YOU HAVE something to report,” Roger Hager said.
Joe moved uncomfortably at his kitchen table. “I do.” He told his boss about this morning’s incident with the file on Katie’s desk.
“You said you saw a mug shot on the floor?”
Mouth twisting in frustration, Joe said, “Shortly after it happened, Katie sent me outside to put the feathers and scat into the compost pile at the other end of the building. When I came back, she was nowhere to be found. I made a quick search in the desk for the file, but it was gone. When she came back, she seemed calmer. I suspect she walked the file over to her suite at the ranch house.”
“Obviously.”
“Yes, but I’m not familiar enough with her routine to know where I might look. I can’t just waltz into the Mason ranch house and search for it.”
“It’s good to confirm Katie’s living at the Elk Horn Ranch. We have her foster mother’s address as hers.”
“Yes, Iris Mason has given her a suite at the main ranch. I think she got Allison Mason’s old suite. Allison is Rudd Mason’s ex-wife and she’s in prison for twenty-five years.”
“And unless you get invited into Iris Mason’s home, you can’t snoop around.”
Joe heard the disappointment in Hager’s gravelly tone. “That’s right. But why would she have a mug shot? That’s what confuses me. Law-enforcement agencies might give one to reporters for transmission on a news story, but they don’t give them to people off the street.”
“Perhaps Janet Bergstrom gave it to her daughter.”
“Maybe,” Joe said, worried. “I know that’s the right logic, but I’m having a helluva time convincing myself, much less you, that Katie is in cahoots with her mother and the cartel.” Frustration deepened in his tone. “She’s just so... I don’t know the words to use, Roger. Katie appears innocent and almost otherworldly. Her world revolves around her raptors. She’s very trusting. I don’t see drug-addict behavior. She drinks only coffee and she doesn’t smoke. I’d almost use the word teetotaler to describe her.”
“It’s early in this investigation, Joe. And you know a sweet, pretty face hooked up with innocence doesn’t mean anything one way or another.” Roger sighed. “The good news is you’re in. You’re going to have to do the dog work and just wait and watch. That mug shot is provocative.”
“It is.” Yet, Joe’s heart was screaming at him that Katie was not involved. He felt torn over continuing his undercover work with her.
“It sounds to me as if trust is a big issue with her. You need to be there for her, become sympathetic, be someone she wants to talk with when she’s feeling bad.”
“I know, I know. It didn’t go well this morning, though. When I started to ask her questions, Katie retreated.”
“It’s your first day,” Roger said. “In this kind of work, things don’t unfold neatly or on time. Be a good falconer, give her the help she requires and let time yield whatever is there.”
“I will,” Joe promised. “I’ll call you in a week unless something important comes up.” Pressing the end button on his phone, Joe pushed the chair back from the table. Getting up, he ran his fingers through his hair, aggravated by the mug shot he’d seen. Why did Katie have it? How did she get it? And what else was in that file folder? Joe had seen a number of pages with single-line sentences upon them. Moving to the counter, he noticed night had fallen in Jackson Hole. The sky was a dark red ribbon along the western horizon.
It was time to eat, but he wasn’t hungry. His gut churned over whether Katie was truly as innocent as she seemed. Joe opened the refrigerator and drew out some sliced turkey. He wasn’t the world’s best cook. In fact, the Marine Corps had fed him for so many years he honestly didn’t know how to make much except sandwiches. After slapping some turkey onto whole wheat bread, he added hot mustard and iceberg lettuce and placed it on a plate to take into the living room to watch TV. He wondered what Katie was doing at that very moment.
* * *
KATIE SAT IN HER SUITE, the file on her mother across her knees. It was nearly 9:00 p.m. and she was anything but tired.
After Allison Mason had been imprisoned for trying to kill Iris and Kam, Iris had had the suite completely redecorated. Allison had been all about gaudiness and bling: Katie wanted soothing cream and light blue to remind her of the sky her raptors loved to fly in. Iris had given all the furniture to charity and now simple Scandinavian birch chairs, table and a couch graced the open and airy suite instead. Katie loved nature and had a special love for wood products. The suite gave her a sense of safety and the quiet she always needed.
Memories of her many foster families shadowed her as she carried the file into the kitchen. Often, she had been one of many foster kids in a family. She’d never had a room of her own, generally having to share with another teen girl who’d insisted on loud, blaring music. The sound always drove Katie out of the house and she wandered the streets in search of a little quiet. Silence always soothed her raw nerves. Loud or constant noises made her feel raw and vulnerable.
Katie poured herself a glass of water and sat down at the table. She opened the file and stared at the two mug shots. Why was her mother a drug addict? What had driven her into that kind of life? Her mother’s hair was messy, as if it was rarely combed or cared for. Her mouth was turned down at the corners. The early lines around her mouth that told Katie she’d had a hard life. Katie’s heart pulled one way and then another. This woman had carried her for nine months. She was her mother. And yet, Katie automatically felt disgust and shame over her mother’s sordid life. Why did her mother live in such violence? What drove her in that direction?
Sipping the water, Katie frowned. Was she like her birth mother? Her stomach twisted in fear. Did she have it in her to be an addict or a trouble-seeker? Had her mother been on drugs while she’d carried Katie? It all scared her.
She looked around the quiet kitchen, which was painted a soft yellow color. Night had fallen and all she saw out the kitchen window was darkness. It worried her that she had her mother’s genes and that her unknown father was more than likely a drug addict, too. There might be no escape at all for her.
Katie desperately needed to talk to someone about all this. She thought her way through the few friends she had. Oh, she had plenty of acquaintances, but really, other than Iris and Donna, whom she trusted with her life, Katie couldn’t name one other person she could openly confide in. Closing her eyes, she relaxed against the birch chair. Joe Gannon’s face slowly materialized behind her lids. A sigh slipped from between her lips. He was so good with the raptors. And he’d been gentle and sensitive toward her. She’d never met a man quite like him. Katie opened her eyes and sat up.
What was it about Joe that she automatically trusted? Was it his low, measured voice? His easy smile that came often? The crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes when he smiled? His eyes drew her the most. They were an unusual green color and Katie felt as though she could see into his soul. He was a kind person; more than once, he’d gently brushed one of the raptor’s feathered breasts and she’d seen the hawks and falcons respond.
Tired yet wired, Katie sipped the water. Could she trust Joe enough to confide in him? He was, after all, an employee, not a friend or confidant. Yet, Katie wanted him to be all of that. Confused, she closed the file. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
There was a lot of work to do in preparation for the raptor show at the ranch the next afternoon. Joe would have to learn the rhythm and demands of their show days. The edginess within subsided a bit. She realized that when Joe was around, her anxiety was nonexistent. How could that be? Katie couldn’t begin to understand. She finished off the glass of water and stood up. It was time for a long, hot bath and then of
f to bed.
* * *
JOE SAW KATIE looking much better when he walked into the facility the next morning. She was opening Sam’s mew.
“Good morning,” he called, lifting his hand in greeting.
She looked hot in her T-shirt that outlined her upper body to perfection. She was lean and her breasts were small. Joe appreciated the way her jeans outlined her shapely lower body and long legs. Her black hair was pulled into a ponytail and she was wearing a black baseball cap.
“Hi, Joe. Come on down.” Katie liked the way Gannon walked. It reminded her of a cougar moving silently through the woods on the prowl. Today, he wore a white cotton long-sleeved shirt with pearl buttons. His hips were narrow, legs powerful beneath his jeans. His gaze met hers and she managed a slight smile of welcome.
“You’ve already got everyone fed and weighed?” he wondered as he halted nearby, hands on his hips.
“Yes.”
“What time did you get here?”
“Six o’clock.”
Brows raising, Joe whistled. Sam chirped from his perch, head tilted, giving Joe an interested look. “Uh-oh, I shouldn’t whistle, should I?”
Katie smiled. “It can cause quite a stir.” She motioned behind her as both peregrine falcons answered his whistle, too.
“I’ll try not to do that,” Joe promised. He searched Katie’s features. Today, her eyes were not red-rimmed. In fact, she seemed calm and at peace. He still wanted to ask her about the photo, but it would break any trust he was trying to build with her. He stuffed down the need and sternly told himself to remain patient. As his gaze fell on Katie’s full mouth, the corners lifted, and he felt his lower body go suddenly hot with yearning. He didn’t dare be drawn to this woman. She was his mission, not a potential lover.
“This morning we’re going to prepare for the show we put on at the dude ranch once a week. Iris said if I could entertain the guests with a weekly show, she’d consider her money well-spent on this facility.”
“What a deal,” Joe said, impressed. “Do you have a vet on staff, too?”
Katie kept her hand on Sam’s door. She’d opened it, but she didn’t want to leave any distance between it and the mew. Sam might try to fly out of it. “We have two vets who offer their services free to us.”
“Yeah, but they have clients who help offset their time when they tend to an injured raptor. You don’t.”
Nodding, Katie felt herself being pulled into the warmth in Joe’s green eyes. He had thick, short black lashes that made the iris seem a richer color, if that was possible. His pupils were huge and black. He didn’t miss much. “Vets are key for all raptor rehabilitators here in the U.S. Without their goodwill, none of these birds would survive. I’m lucky to have the two vets here in Jackson Hole who assist me.”
Joe felt a frisson of excitement because this morning Katie was talking easily with him, unlike yesterday morning when she had clearly been stressed and upset. “You do have luck.”
Shrugging, Katie replied, “I had no luck until I came to the raptor facility a decade ago.”
Joe watched Sam unfurl his wings and flap them several times. The golden eagle clearly wanted to get out and fly. He took a risk and gave Katie a warm, concerned look. “Are you feeling better?”
Her fingers tightened momentarily on the mew door, but his caring eased her nerves. Her heart expanded. She fought the desire to speak openly about yesterday. She licked her lips, somehow managing to speak. “Yes, I’m better. Thanks for asking.”
“Sure?” Cocking his head, Joe purposely held her shy blue gaze. Katie was clearly an introvert. He gave her a slow smile and her eyes widened in response. There was an inexplicable magical connection between them. His heart beat harder for a moment.
Katie was so tired of hiding from everyone. She’d done it all her life. What little of herself hadn’t been gobbled up by her abandonment, she’d selfishly guarded against the harshness of the world around her. Joe’s green gaze was warm and inviting. She could see his sincerity. Rubbing her chin, she said in a choked voice, “I—I was just having a bad day, Joe. There are times when it really tears me up that my mother abandoned me at birth and yesterday was one of those days.”
Joe kept his face carefully arranged. The change in Katie’s expression brought a completely unexpected reaction out of him. He wanted to sweep Katie into his arms. The desire stunned him. As he studied her expression, he saw her raw vulnerability. He realized she had opened up to him. Though he wanted at least to reach out and touch her sagging shoulder, Joe fiercely told himself no. He couldn’t touch Katie. It might be interpreted as invasive. “That’s a really tough road to walk,” he sympathized.
Katie felt the wings of her heart opening wider to his compassionate response. “I guess I never expected anyone to know what it’s like to be without a mother and father, but I feel you do.”
“I can’t walk in your shoes, Katie. I can only try to understand how alone you probably feel most of the time.” Joe peered deeply into her blue gaze. He’d never thought he’d have such a powerful, instinctive need to protect a woman. Katie stood before him with every emotion clearly written across her face. Feeling guilty, Joe tried to tell himself he had to play this part with her, even though the real person within him wanted to protect and care for her. He saw the devastation of loss in her gaze and it affected him in ways he never expected.
“You’re only the third person to try and understand what I’ve gone through. Iris and Donna are the others. Iris adopted Rudd, her son, so she knows through experience what a child who has been given up feels like.” Connecting with his green gaze, she asked, “How do you know? You have a mother and father who love you.”
It was Joe’s turn to shrug. One corner of his mouth lifted. “I had several Marines in my company over in Afghanistan who grew up as foster children. They were always getting in trouble one way or another. I made it my business to find out why they were so angry and acted out all the time. I sat down with each of them and asked about his background. Every one of them saw himself as having been abandoned by his birth parents. I realized that not knowing where you came from can have a permanent, scarring effect on a person.”
Touched by his story, Katie asked, “Were you able to help them?”
“I think so,” Joe replied. “In each case, these men felt left out. After talking with a psychiatrist at headquarters in Kabul, I got a better understanding of what was driving them. I worked with the sergeants of their squads to get them personally invested in different ways so they felt part of something greater. The military is a family of sorts.”
He seemed like such a caring man. Katie stopped herself from walking those few feet into Joe’s arms. She knew on some instinctive level that if she did he’d open his arms and allow her to lean against him. But she just couldn’t. She swallowed against a lump forming in her throat. “You were like a father figure to them. You must have played such a positive role in their lives.”
“If the Marine psychiatrist at headquarters hadn’t guided me, I wouldn’t understand one tenth of what I do.” He held up his hands and added, “Not that I know everything. I don’t.”
“You’re a humble man.”
Joe grinned a little. “I might have been a captain in charge of running a company of a hundred and forty men, but I’m not a psychiatrist. I feel I’m pretty good at assessing a person, abilities and all, but the abandonment issues my men had on my first tour threw me. I had to get help because I honestly didn’t understand what it meant to be abandoned by a parent.”
“It’s a stain. You never get rid of it. You can’t pretend it’s not there, either. Every time I see children with their parents, my heart tears in pain.” Katie touched her chest. She lowered her gaze because Joe’s eyes suddenly sharpened. “I find myself jealous of kids who have parents. I feel this anger and rage toward my mother a
nd father who threw me away. I have a lot of anger. And I sure wasn’t a peach to those foster parents who tried to make me feel like a part of their families.”
“I had one private who had a similar story to yours, Katie. He was always getting in trouble with his foster families. In fact, he had quite a few run-ins with the law. A police captain gave him a choice. He told the kid at eighteen either to join the Marine Corps or get thrown into federal prison for a year.”
“The police captain helped him, Joe. Tough love. I wish...I wish I’d had that kind of intervention....”
Hearing the bereft tone in her voice, Joe forced himself to keep his hands at his sides. For a moment, Katie looked utterly lost. And then she changed. She straightened, lifted her head and shook off the deep, wounding emotions that lived within her. “From what I understand,” he said carefully, “Iris Mason was the captain who helped you change your life. Didn’t she help you find yourself with the raptors?”
Katie liked Gannon’s perceptiveness. “Actually, my lifesaver was Donna Pierce, my last foster parent. I was wandering around the state fair when I was sixteen, angry and resentful. Donna was a falconer and held an eagle license. She and her volunteers were putting on a raptor program at the fair to educate people as to why they shouldn’t shoot these birds. I remember standing at the edge of the huge crowd, in awe. I’d never seen a falcon or a hawk fly. I started to cry and I didn’t know why. Donna saw me, but she was busy putting on the show. I ran away from the crowd, found a place to hide. I cried for so long my throat ached. I rarely cried, Joe, but seeing those birds fly just triggered something so visceral within me, it was all I could do.”
Joe frowned, noticing the bewilderment in her eyes. “Maybe the birds represented a freedom you never had?”
She dragged in a deep breath. “Yes...exactly. Donna found me after the show. She was like the mother I never had.... In fact, she was the mother I’d always dreamed of finding someday. She invited me to come to her home to look at the raptors. When I found out she trained people to get their falconer’s licenses, I felt like the world had suddenly opened up to me. Donna saved my life. I’d been running away from so many foster homes that the police knew me on sight. I never did anything legally wrong, I was just running away.”
The Defender Page 9
