Lindsay McKenna - The Defender

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 pancake 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!”