JOE SAT ON A STOOL at the counter of Mo’s Ice Cream Parlor. It was his first day in town since arriving from Washington, D.C. His cover was solid. His parents owned a small ranch south of the town. With permission from his FBI boss, Joe was allowed to tell his parents the real reason for his return and they had been sworn to secrecy. Anyone noticing him in Jackson Hole would believe he was coming from the hospital after being released from the Marine Corps. Most folks around here would expect him to work with his father. No one would suspect him of being an undercover agent.
After watching the suspect, Katie Bergstrom, fly the golden eagle, he’d decided to grab breakfast at Mo’s. A newspaper, the Jackson Hole Gazette, had been on the counter and he’d picked it up. It was the easiest way to find out what was going on.
Mo’s was crammed with breakfast customers, the noise level sounding like bees buzzing. He’d accidentally turned to the classified ads and his gaze fell on the Help Wanted section. One ad shouted out to him. Was he reading it right? Joe blinked and reread the ad: “Falconer wanted for a full-time position. Apply by calling Katie Bergstrom.” Joe studied the ad. Was this kismet, one of those lucky breaks an FBI agent prays for, but never gets? There it was: a job opening with his suspect. Folding up the newspaper, Joe took a drink of his black coffee, and reviewed the details of the case.
His boss, Roger Hager, had gone over his mission objectives in Jackson Hole. Thanks to information from a local cowboy, Griff McPherson, the FBI was now focused on a man named Curt Downing. There was a possible break in this evolving drug-and-gunrunning case. McPherson and his brother Slade had been born here and owned the Tetons Ranch. Griff also worked at the Bar H and had married the owner, Valerie Hunter. Griff had met Janet Bergstrom by chance at the Horse Emporium in January. She was there to buy a dog collar for her husky, Karl. They’d talked and Janet had said she was on a visit to Jackson Hole to look at the possibility of creating a second courier business in the town. That was interesting news insofar as Roger was concerned. Janet already had a courier service established in Cheyenne, Wyoming.
A smiling blonde, blue-eyed waitress brought over a huge oval platter of pigs in blankets. Joe thanked her as she then handed him a pitcher of maple syrup. Cutting into the pancake-wrapped sausage, Joe continued to think his way through the developments in his assignment. When Janet got out of prison, she’d gone to Guatemala for two years. After coming home, she’d started a small business known as Mercury Courier and it became quite successful. However, the FBI agent in Guatemala suspected Bergstrom received seed money from the Los Lobos cartel. Furthermore, an agent had followed her on the flight to Guatemala and taken photos of her with cartel leader Xavier Lobos. The FBI had a growing amount of information on this aggressive man who focused on running drugs and guns. He was buying weapons and selling cocaine to Canada and the U.S.A.
Chewing his food, Joe watched the parlor’s clientele come and go. Mo’s was always a busy place. Some of the old-timers gave him a long look, as if trying to place his face. Joe had purposely been chosen for this mission because he’d been born in Jackson Hole. His parents, Connor and Lorna Gannon, ran a ranch and a landscape company. They’d given him the small house near the main ranch house for his stay. Roger felt it was perfect cover for Joe. He’d be a local boy come home and completely unsuspected by any cartel members who were trying to establish themselves in the area. Locals would never guess he was an agent. Rather, they’d see him as the wounded son returning home to heal and work with his parents.
“Hey...Joe Gannon? Is that you?”
Turning to his right, he looked into the eyes of Iris Mason, owner of the Elk Horn Ranch. Joe instantly recognized the matriarch. She wore a white blouse, Levi’s and scuffed boots, and her elk-skin purse hung from her left shoulder. Iris had silver hair that resembled a disturbed hen’s nest. She wore a jaunty straw hat over it. Grinning, Joe slid off the stool.
“Miss Iris! It’s good to see you!” Joe embraced the elder.
“You look good,” Iris said, stepping back and smiling up at him. “My, how you’ve grown, Joe! The last I heard, you were injured and at Bethesda Medical Center back East with a head injury.” Iris reached out and patted his arm. “Are you okay?”
“Sit down,” Joe invited, gesturing to the stool next to his. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” She was one of the most knowledgeable people in the valley and Joe felt luck was once more on his side. He could chat with Iris and learn a lot in a little time. Plus, Katie Bergstrom had her raptor facility at Iris’s ranch. Kismet had struck again.
“Thanks, Joe, I will.” Iris ordered a cup of coffee and a cheese omelet from the waitress. She turned and smiled over at him. “So, how are you?”
“Better than I was,” Joe said, lifting the cup to his lips. “I’m sure my mom and dad told you I was injured in Helmand Province in Afghanistan?”
“Yes. You know, Gwen Garner, who owns the quilting store, knows all.” She smiled. “Your mom is quite a quilter and she kept Gwen updated on your Marine Corps life.”
“After the second tour and getting a traumatic brain injury from an IED, I landed in Bethesda for six months, Miss Iris.” Joe touched the left side of his head. “I was riding in the rear of a Humvee when we drove over the damned thing.” His voice lowered with pain. “I was the only one to survive.”
“That’s so sad. Lorna called me right after she found out. They were heading out the door to Germany where you were taken for treatment.”
Joe knew his mother and Iris were good friends. Lorna Gannon had always looked to Iris as an extra grandmother in her life. Iris befriended everyone and she was one of the most-loved people in the valley. “I’m sure she was stressed out by the news,” he said.
“Yes, they were. I went over to see if I could help them pack.” Iris sighed and said in a softer voice, “We all prayed for you, Joe. It’s hard losing a child at any age. And thank goodness, our prayers were answered.”
“I was kind of happy about it, too.” He shared a warm smile with her.
Iris drank her coffee. “So, are you coming home? Griff McPherson came home after Wall Street crashed. Are you in the same predicament?”
“Sort of,” Joe hedged. He hated lying to Iris, but he had to in order to keep his cover. “I just got out of rehab in D.C. and was released from the Marine Corps because of my injury. I came home to help my father and learn his landscaping business. He’d always wanted me to take the ranch over someday and now seems like a good time.” Iris looked happy, her mouth drawing upward.
“Oh, good, good. I love when family can come together and be one. Nowadays, sisters and brothers and parents are thrown to the wind. No one lives at home or in the same town anymore. I know I’m from an older generation where that was the norm, but for the life of me, I truly feel a family should stick together.” She patted his broad shoulder. “I’m so happy you’re home, Joe.”
“I’m pretty happy about it too.”
The waitress delivered the food and Iris eagerly dug into her breakfast. Between bites, she asked, “So you’re going from being an officer in the Marine Corps to turning your talents to ranching? Your dad is very respected around here. I hired him a year ago to come in with his dozer and grader to smooth off a piece of land for me. I wanted Katie Bergstrom’s facility built on our ranch. She was struggling something awful. Raptor rehabilitators don’t get reimbursed for all the money, time and care they put into saving birds. I saw her give a talk to an assisted-living center a year ago. I was so impressed with Katie and her love of the raptors. She enthralled everyone in the room with her passion for them.”
Joe’s heart leaped as Iris brought up the woman who kept haunting his thoughts, his suspect. “My father told me you not only donated the land but you had a facility built for her raptors?”
“Yep, I sure did.” Iris twisted the lid off a jar of blueberry jam and slathered it thickly across
whole-wheat toast. “I’m always on the lookout for a good business move to enhance Elk Horn’s reputation as a dude ranch. I saw Katie’s talk and was absolutely taken with her passion, her sincerity and love of her raptors. As you know, I pioneered environmental and green ways of living in this valley.”
“Yes,” Joe said, “you were the first to go green, Miss Iris. And actually, because of your decision, my father was able to launch his landscaping business.” His voice lowered with feeling. “We owe you a lot. I hope you always know we’re grateful to you.”
Smiling, Iris sipped her coffee. “I can remember many of the ranchers were up in arms when Trevor and I decided to go green. Now—” Iris looked around the busy café “—there isn’t a rancher around here who hasn’t switched.”
“You’re an inspiration, Miss Iris. You always have been.”
“When Trevor was alive, he turned our manure into compost. He built it into a successful business. To this day, we compost all our cow and buffalo manure and sell it to landscaping businesses in four surrounding states. Your dad was one of the first to come and buy from us. Connor always saw our vision for an environmentally friendly valley even when others didn’t.”
“I recall it all happening when I was growing up,” Joe said. He finished off his breakfast and pushed the plate aside. “My father said there was a condominium boom when I left for college. His landscaping business won a number of bids and he brought environmental ways to work with the land and not against it.”
“Connor was one of a handful of businessmen in the valley who sided with us,” Iris said. She reached out and patted Joe’s hand. “It’s so good to know you’re home! Have you recovered fully from your head injury?”
“For the most part,” Joe said. “I get headaches about once a month or when I’m under stress, and when I do, it’s like a migraine. All I can do is go to my dark room, close the door, keep quiet and let it pass.”
Frowning, Iris blotted her lips with a paper napkin. “I’ve had a few headaches in my life. And I’ve hated every one of ’em. I can’t even begin to understand how you tolerate such pain.”
“They pass,” Joe said, seeing the concern in the elder’s features. “The doctors say it’s just one of the symptoms of my brain healing from the trauma.” He watched Iris put her empty plate aside. “Hey, what can you tell me about Katie Bergstrom’s ad in the newspaper? Before you walked in I was reading that she’s looking for a full-time employee.”
“Yes, since she has a much larger facility out at our ranch, she needs full-time help. Katie has a number of volunteers, but, you know, people are so busy nowadays. And Katie has a full schedule of speaking engagements around the county. She just can’t do it all alone anymore.” Iris tapped the ad with her index finger. “I told her to put in the ad. I’m bankrolling her because what she’s doing is good for the environment, Joe. Plus, our dude ranch guests enjoy a raptor show once a week. Katie brings out her raptors, educates the folks and then flies some of them. Our guests take photos of the raptors and are thrilled to death. Katie needs a full-time assistant. She just can’t handle the business by herself.”
“I see,” Joe said, considering the knowledge. He saw the glow in Iris’s eyes as she talked enthusiastically about Katie. Did Iris realize her protégé might be affiliated with Los Lobos? Inwardly, Joe hurt for the elder. Iris was unusually good at evaluating people, yet drug and gun dealers were chameleons. Every so often, a local person might be dealing and other locals would never suspect. It would come as a surprise when the person was indicted on drug charges.
“Our ranch guests are in love with Katie!” Iris rubbed her hands. “I felt paying Katie a yearly sum, plus footing all the expenses she incurred because of her raptors, was a fine business decision. Since Katie has been there, the Elk Horn Ranch has gotten national press attention. We had reporters from all the major news networks come out, and they did a story on her when Sam, the golden eagle, was transferred to her care. On the internet we’ve created a weekly blog on Katie and her raptors. Every week we highlight one of the birds, talk about its past and how it got injured. We tell folks how Katie and one of her vets brought the bird back from death. When she’s able to release a bird, I get Kam, my granddaughter, to go along and videotape the release, then, we put it in the blog. People from around the world just love being a part of Katie’s raptor world!”
Swept up by Iris’s excitement, Joe decided to address the ad. “Iris, I know you probably didn’t know this, but I’m working toward a falconer’s license.” He saw her surprised expression.
“Really? Why? I mean, my goodness, I didn’t know that! Tell me more, Joe.”
“While I was recuperating at Bethesda Medical Center, my doctor suggested I work with Eddie Barton, a well-known falconer, who also has an eagle license, in the Washington, D.C., area. He said working with the birds would help me not only physically but also emotionally. I’d always loved the hawks and eagles here in the valley, so I gave it a try. I spent my recovery going over to Eddie’s place and helping him for six months. Eventually, I applied for my falconer’s license. It takes two years to get one and I need to find a mentor around here like Katie, who can continue to teach me so I can apply for it.”
“My goodness! Why, Joe, I’m just speechless. Are you thinking of applying for the position to help my Katie?”
He could see Iris had a deep emotional attachment to Katie. It broke Joe’s heart to lie to this woman who had always been such a positive person and had helped so many people over the length of her life, but swallowing hard, he said, “Yes, I was thinking of calling her up and asking for an appointment. I was hoping she would agree to continue to train me while I help her.”
“But what about your dad? You said he was training you to take over his ranching and landscaping business? Could you do both?”
“Not to worry, Miss Iris. My dad is going to retire in ten years. What I’d like to do, if Katie will hire me, is work with my dad on weekends and slowly learn the businesses. I figure in ten years I’ll know enough to take over when he retires.”
“And how old are you now?”
“Twenty-seven, Miss Iris.”
“Oh,” she crowed with a laugh, “you’re just a baby in comparison to me!”
Laughing with her, Joe felt like a traitor. “That’s true. Well, if you think it’s a good idea, I’ll call Katie.”
“Absolutely,” Iris gushed, her hands clasped in excitement. “I’m going over to the Horse Emporium but I’ll be home later. I’m sure Katie will hire you! She was very worried no one would apply. Falconers don’t grow on trees and she desperately needs someone like you. You sound perfect.” Iris gripped his arm and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Joe, you’re just the salt of the earth and I’ve always admired you. If you take the job, I will guarantee a very good wage for you. Plus, medical insurance is included.”
He grinned. “Miss Iris, you’re such a saleswoman. But I have to see if Katie thinks I’m right for the job first.”
“Oh, of course, of course.” Coloring, Iris touched her flushed cheek. “My, this is so fortuitous meeting you here at Mo’s. This is our lucky day!”
“It’s kismet,” Joe agreed. “Let me buy you breakfast, Miss Iris. It’s the least I can do,” he said, digging into the pocket of his Levi’s.
Iris slid off the stool. “Why, that’s very kind of you, Joe. You don’t have to do it.”
“But I want to, Miss Iris.”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Oh, all right. Welcome home, Joe Gannon. I know Katie will love you as much as I do. Bye-bye...”
Joe paid the bills, feeling pretty good himself. Dizzied by the synchronicity of events, he walked out the door and into the late-morning sunshine. Why hadn’t this happened earlier in his life? His divorce from Zoe had devastated him. Now he had some sudden good fortune...and a woman who interested hi
m. It was time to call Katie Bergstrom. Would she want to hire him? Joe really didn’t know. This was his chance to at least prove one way or another whether she was working with her mother, Janet.
* * *
KATIE HAD JUST PUT SAM into his mew after cleaning it out when her cell phone rang. Hurrying up the long concrete walkway between the fifteen mews, she picked it off her small oak desk near the front door.
“Hello, this is Katie. Can I help you?” Her voice sounded breathless.
“Hi, this is Joe Gannon. I saw your ad in the paper this morning for a falconer.”
Katie sucked in a breath of air. “Oh!” And then she released the air. “Are you calling about the position?” Iris had persuaded her to try the ad, but Katie had doubted anyone would apply. Her fingers tightened around her phone as she prayed for a miracle.
“Yes, I am. I’m working toward my falconer’s license with Eddie Barton, back in Washington, D.C. Perhaps you’ve heard of Eddie?” Joe knew the man was a very famous falconer who had written a number of books on how to handle eagles. There wasn’t a falconer in the world who didn’t know about this respected man.
“Why...yes, of course I’ve heard of Mr. Barton. You studied with him.”
“Yes, I did. I’ve just moved back home to Jackson Hole. Is it possible to meet with you and apply for the position in person?”
Katie felt joy thrum though her, as if her heart would explode with joy. She closed her eyes, took a breath and tried to slow down her speech; when she got excited, she talked at the speed of light, or so her friends told her. “Of course I’d be interested. You said you’ve just come home? Did you live in Jackson Hole before this?”
“I was born here, Miss Bergstrom. It’s a long story and I’d be glad to answer all your questions if I can come over.”
“Absolutely. I’d love to talk with you. Anyone trained by Eddie Barton...why...you must be good. There’s a waiting line of falconers who are dying to train with him.”
The Defender Page 3