Broken Wings (3 page)

She exhaled in a long, slow sigh and
summoned the the appointed persona. Once fully-immersed in her
role, she tapped on the door.

Within seconds a woman of Native
American descent peered through the screen at Rio and smiled
pleasantly. “May I help you?”

“
Hello…my name is Rio
Laraquette. I’m looking for William Tajan.”

“
Which one?” she
asked.

At first thought, Carole Tajan figured
this was another of her son’s spurned lovers who’d undoubtedly
tracked him down here. But as she looked at her through the screen
door there was something oddly familiar about this one.

The girl cleared her throat. “The one
who has a sister named Audrey.”

“
And you are?” Carole was
curious now. And for the moment she forgot about the sense of
familiarity.

“
I’m Audrey’s
daughter.”

Carole opened the screen door and
gestured her inside. “My name is Carole Tajan.” She paused long
enough to close the door. “Audrey is my husband’s sister. Where is
she?”

“
I’m afraid I have some bad
news,” she said. “Audrey died six months ago.”

The woman raced to the other side of
the room and fumbled with the telephone, leaving Rio standing by
the door.

While her host made a phone
call—probably to her husband—Rio eyed her surroundings. The pale
walls of the small room didn’t feel nearly as closed in as some
might have thought. It was adequately furnished with a couch,
coffee table and a Lazy-Boy on one side of the room, and a modest
entertainment center with a small telephone table on the other.
There were hand-woven tapestries and a large dream-catcher on the
wall behind the couch. Rio was intrigued by their
beauty.

“
You’d better get home right
away,” Carole’s voice interrupted Rio’s thoughts. “I’m fine,” she
reassured the party on the other end of the line. “We have a
visitor that you should probably see.” After another brief
interlude, Carole hung up the phone and looked at Rio. “My
husband...your uncle...will be here shortly.” She gestured to the
couch. “Won’t you sit down?”

“
Thank you.” Rio nodded and
moved toward the couch.

“
Can I get you something
while we wait?”

“
A glass of water would be
nice.”

At that moment Carole made the
connection between Rio and the strange familiarity she’d felt when
she first saw her.

Maggie Fuller. Rio looked like Maggie
Fuller.

* * *

Bill Tajan felt a sense of urgency as
he hopped out of his truck and headed toward the house. Well into
his fifties, he was still in good shape and had no trouble getting
across that yard in a hurry. His curiosity had provided ample
motivation. He hadn’t a clue what this was all about, but his wife
wouldn’t call him home for just any old visitor.

Bill Tajan entered his house through
the front door. He and Rio eyed each other.

Considering that she was a walking,
talking replica of a woman who had all but been promoted to
sainthood by her descendants—had it been within the scope of their
religion—Bill somehow managed to keep his cool. Of course, his
heart was about to bust out of his chest. He couldn’t take his eyes
off the girl as he crossed the room to his wife’s side.

“
This is Rio,” Carole said.
“She says she’s Audrey’s daughter.”

About a hundred different questions
fluttered through his mind. But he couldn’t utter a single word.
All he could do was stare at the stranger in his living
room.

“
She also has news of
Audrey,” Carole said with a delicate reserve.

“
Where is my sister?” Bill
asked, still staring at her.

“
Hm…” Rio hesitated and
looked away. “She died.” She sucked in a breath and her gaze
traveled back to meet his. “Right before Christmas. She had
cancer.” Tears pooled around her eyes.

Bill’s mind emptied and his senses
numbed. His only sibling was dead. Everything in him, everything
he’d been taught about being a man told him he had to remain in
control. His teachings failed him. His legs deteriorated under him
like they were made of mashed potatoes. Bill dropped to the couch,
burying his face in his hands.

Carole was at her husband’s side and
had a comforting arm draped around him before Rio had a chance to
blink.

She sat down in a chair across from
them and made it a point not to look at them directly. Rio could
only surmise that it must be difficult to hear about a sibling’s
death. In that respect she sympathized with Bill Tajan. No matter
why she was there, the man had lost his sister.

It took him a few moments, but he
pulled himself together and faced Rio. “I haven’t seen Audrey since
we were kids,” he said, over a shaky voice. “Where has she been all
this time?”

“
Vegas.”

“
She never said a word.” The
news had left him stunned and grief-stricken. “She never called.
She never wrote. Once she left, we never heard from her
again.”

An inward sigh washed over Rio. She
started to feel better about her ability to pull this thing off.
Sure, Turner had told her the story that had apparently been
relayed to him by Audrey, but up until now Rio had no idea of the
chances of its validity.

Finally, the story was starting to ring
true about how there had been a falling out between Audrey and her
parents when she was sixteen. One that had caused a permanent rift
in the family.

There had been a boy in town that
Audrey had wanted to date, against her father’s wishes. Once denied
access to the object of her affections, Audrey started sneaking
around, meeting him on the sly. When her parents found out—things
got bad, and then things got worse. Before anyone knew it, Audrey
and the boy were gone. No one ever saw or heard from her
again.

Luckily for Rio, Bill had pretty much
confirmed the story’s legitimacy.

But he’d been staring at her ever since
he’d walked in the door; probably trying to figure out how he’d
ended up with a
white
niece.

What if he didn’t believe
her?

Well, if she had to she could always
say she was adopted.

“
Excuse me, sir.” It was
time to realize her fears or defeat them. “But why do you keep
staring at me?”

“
I’m sorry,” he said. “I
really don’t mean to offend you.” He stood and gave her a gesturing
wave to follow him.

She and Carole followed Bill into a
small dining room housing an eight-chair table and a matching
hutch. Either they had a bunch of kids or they enjoyed quaint
dinner parties with their friends.

Two paintings hanging on the far wall
grabbed her attention. The first was of a warrior. There was no
amusement painted into his face. If anything, he looked annoyed.
Even so, he was handsome and his eyes captivated Rio. She wasn’t
normally into guys with long hair, but like her father always said,
“
there’s a first time for everything
.” —Too bad the guy was
dead.

Rio amused herself with a quiet chuckle
and let her eyes journey to the other portrait. It was of a young
white woman dressed in Indian garb.

Rio stared at her—fiery copper hair and
piercing jade-green eyes—if she didn’t know better she’d swear it
was a painting of herself.

What the hell
! Rio’s head
started shaking and she didn’t try to stop it as she looked back at
Bill. “Who are they?” she asked, pointing toward the pictures on
the wall.

“
They are my great-great
grandparents.” He gestured toward the warrior. “His name was
Tajan.” He passed a gesturing wave at the other painting. “And her
name was Maggie Fuller.”

Rio glanced back at her look-alike. Now
that she’d gotten over the initial shock of their similarities, it
hit her—“She’s the woman in the picture.” She looked at the Tajans.
“My mother had a picture of her with two other women. I never knew
about the picture until she died and I went through her things. She
never talked about her family.”

“
May I see the photograph?”
Bill asked.

“
Sure.” Rio dug into her
shoulder bag and came out with a folded manila envelope. She fished
around inside and came out with a small picture, offering it to
him. “Here.”

Bill and Carole studied the photograph
together.

Rio took a black jewelry case out of
her bag. “She had this too. I’ve always wondered where she got it.
Do you know?”

With careful precision he slipped the
case from her hands and eased the lid up. Seeing the intricate
turquoise necklace, he bit into the gasp as it escaped. He hadn’t
laid eyes on it since Audrey took off, more than thirty years ago.
“This necklace belonged to Maggie.” His eyes never left the piece
of jewelry. “It was a gift from Tajan.”

“
You can have it.” Rio
shrugged. “If you want.”

Bill—eyes still glued to the
necklace—hesitated a bit before closing the case. And then, as if
forcing himself, he handed it back to Rio. “No.” He shook his head.
“It was given to your mother. Now it’s yours.”

She made no move to take the jewelry
case, and he forced it back into her hands.

The sound of the front door squeaking
open interrupted their duel of determined wills. The Tajans headed
for the living room. Rio followed.

A young man about Rio’s age, and just
as white, was standing at the door. “Killer car in the driveway,”
he said to no one in particular. “Who’s is it?”

“
I would say that it belongs
to your cousin,” Bill said. “Billy...this is Rio. She’s Audrey’s
daughter.” He looked at Rio. “This is our son…Billy
Tajan.”

Normally, his tall frame and athletic
build would have caught Rio’s attention right away. But the spark
wasn’t there that she usually felt upon meeting such a handsome
man. The only thing about him that ran through her mind was how odd
it seemed that his skin was so white considering the darker
complexion of his parents.

Still, Rio didn’t want to be rude. She
smiled and extended her hand out. “Hello, I’m Rio Laraquette. It’s
nice to meet you.”

Short brown hair complimented hazel
eyes that sparkled as he studied her curiously. “And I thought I
was the only one,” he said, and shook her hand.

“
The only one?” Rio
asked.

“
Indian blood. Pale skin.”
There was a bite in his tone, but she couldn’t tell if it was
directed at her or their white skin.

Maybe it was her likeness to his
ancestor. Then again, perhaps he was on to her.

~~~~

CHAPTER 4

With Rio gone, the Tajans were left to
make some sense out of what had happened. Bill needed to believe it
was true. Carole wanted to accept it as the truth for Bill’s sake.
But Billy, he needed more proof.

He’d like it to be so. If it was, it
meant there was another Tajan out there with pale skin, and he was
no longer alone.

“
Do you believe her?” he
asked his father with a touch of skepticism and a bit of
hope.

“
The resemblance. The
photograph. The necklace…which she left here.” Bill pointed to the
jewelry case on the coffee table. “It’s true. She is my niece…and
your cousin.”

And then there were all those family
tales about Maggie Fuller returning one day. Billy had never put
much stock into the old legends, but Rio didn’t just look like
Maggie—she was an exact replica. He’d heard about people resembling
an ancestor, but this was different. If he didn’t know better, he
knew they’d swear the portrait of Maggie was actually a painting of
Rio.

Once word got around about his new
cousin, the girl would probably be elevated to sainthood. When that
happened, somebody was bound to get hurt.

~~~~

CHAPTER 5

Rio returned to her motel room. At this
point, there was nothing else she could do. She’d played her card
and now she’d have to wait. That was the hardest part of all,
waiting for her mark to make the next move.

She knew they’d respond accordingly.
They had to. Bill believed she was his niece. She’d seen that in
his eyes, saddened by the news of his sister’s death. And then
there was that chick in the painting. Maggie Fuller. What was up
with that anyway?

Rio had realized when Turner hired her
that she resembled Maggie. She’d seen that in the faded and worn
photograph. That’s the sole reason she got the job. But when she
saw that painting of Maggie on the Tajan’s dining room wall, it was
as if she’d seen a ghost of herself.

And the warrior in the other
painting—Maggie’s lover—Rio couldn’t get him out of her mind. Oh
sure, he was a handsome enough fellow, but it was more than that.
When she looked into his eyes, she felt as if she knew him from
somewhere. Or, maybe she would’ve liked to have known
him.

Yep, it’d been a really long time since
she’d been this attracted to someone. And wouldn’t you know it? It
had to be a guy that lived more than a hundred years
ago.