Broken Wings (2 page)

“
Oh, sure...” She laughed.
“I’m going to waltz right on up there with my redheaded, white
ass…and they’re going to believe that my mother was an
Indian.”

“
They do have white blood in
them, you know.”

“
Oh, yeah.” Rio snorted. She
hadn’t fallen of the turnip truck yesterday. “And that was
what...like about a gazillion years ago?”

Turner returned to his desk drawer.
“Oh, they’re going to believe it all right.” He pulled out an old
photograph and handed it across the desk.

She took the picture, fully intending
to glance at it and hand it back. But that was before she actually
got a look at it. Something about the old image intrigued her. It
was a snapshot of three women, and even though it was black and
white, she could tell two of them had light colored hair and the
other’s was dark.

“
That’s a photograph of
Maggie Fuller and her sisters Mary and Molly. It was taken up in
Virginia City in 1863.” He paused for effect. “That picture
belonged to Audrey.” Turner waited for Rio to look at him, but she
never did. “I take it you do see the resemblance between yourself
and at least two of the women in the shot?” He pointed, singling
out the girl in the middle. “Especially her. She’s Maggie
Fuller.”

Rio couldn’t argue that one. Not
realistically. She had to admit she and this woman Maggie Fuller
looked an awful lot alike. The whole thing was a bit eerie. She
felt it as she studied the photograph, the weird sensations
riveting through her, but she couldn’t put her finger on
it.

“
I’ll give you Audrey’s
personal things. Including that photo and my half of the map,” he
said. “After you locate the position of the treasure, call me and
I’ll handle the rest.”

“
Where’d you get the other
half of the map?” she asked, her nosiness kicking in.

Turner hesitated about a millisecond
before saying, “My grandmother gave it to me.”

“
Your grandmother...?” Rio
had a hard time believing it. Turner was too fond of telling
stories and he’d let this one go way too easily.

“
One of Maggie’s sisters was
my great-great grandmother.”

“
Really?” It was an
intriguing idea, but Rio was skeptical. “Which one?” She tossed the
photograph back across the desk.

He scooped up the picture and studied
it with a quick scan before pointing to the other light-haired
sister. “That one. She was my grandmother’s
grandmother.”

“
Which one was she? Mary or
Molly?” Now it had become a game for Rio. She wanted to see how far
he could take it since she figured he was making it up as he went
along. Oh, she could guess there was some truth to the story, at
least about the three sisters. But Rio doubted that any of them was
Turner’s great-great grandmother.

Turner mumbled and groaned before he
identified her as Molly. He was getting antsy. And the last thing
she wanted to do was rock the boat.

“
So let’s get to the part
about all the money I’m supposed to get,” she said, tremendously
poised as she changed the subject.

He tapped a pencil on the desk. “I’m
going to pay you…one hundred thousand dollars.”

Rio threw her head back and laughed.
“You’re kidding.” She settled her eyes on him again.
“Right?”

She’d discarded his offer quicker than
a blink of the eye. Not only that, she’d mocked him. He wasn’t sure
if that pissed him off more than it impressed him.

Finally, she’d gone and done something
that induced him to believe that maybe, maybe, he’d underestimated
her. He hoped so. He’d invested too much time, effort, and money to
give up now.

Turner had been carrying this dream
around for twenty years. Damn near ever since he’d run across
Audrey Tajan. Now theirs had been a different kind of relationship.
He’d actually liked her. Well, about as much as he could ever like
any woman. Turner had never been interested in marriage or family.
Apparently neither was Audrey. He’d known exactly where he stood
with her. And she’d made it quite clear what was expected of
him.

As long as he kept her entertained and
bought her a pretty trinket every now and then, she was happy.
Audrey didn’t get jealous over other women. In fact she’d told him,
more than once, she liked it that he wasn’t under foot all the
time.

Then a couple of years ago Audrey’s
health started to fail. When the doctors said she had ovarian
cancer, Turner was a true and dedicated friend who willingly paid
her medical bills.

But then again, maybe it had a little
something to do with the fact that she’d told him her brother had
half a map that led to a treasure. She’d gotten drunk one night,
many years before her sickness, and told Turner about her family’s
history.

Her revelation started with the story
of Maggie and Tajan and ended with her own expulsion from the
family. She left home at the age of sixteen and she hadn’t been
back since.

And she had these family heirlooms;
items that had belonged to her ancestors, Maggie and Tajan. Turner
wanted those pieces when she died. And he’d played the devoted
friend and benefactor, all because her time was limited.

And now, if luck was on his side—and
Turner believed it was—Rio was going to help him find the treasure
at the end of the map.

“
You expect me to go up
there and con those people?” Rio didn’t sound committed. “So you
can steal the treasure right out from under them…and I’m only
supposed to get a hundred grand out of it?”

“
Okay.” Turner grinned,
secretly impressed. “What’s it going to take?”

“
Well…” The word lingered on
the air. “I need at least half a mill,” she said. “Hundred grand up
front. And I’ll be needing some expense money, too.”

“
All right.” Turner’s nod
was self-effacing. “One hundred thousand now. The rest when I
recover the treasure.” He studied her closely. “And five thousand
for expenses.”

“
Up front?” she
asked.

“
Up front.”

“
Agreed.” She stood and
offered her hand across the desk.

They shook on the deal. “If you pull
this off…I won’t ever forget it.”

“
Oh, I can pretty much
guarantee,” she said, “when this is over...you will never forget
me.”

* * *

Turner sat smugly with his feet propped
on the desk. He was feeling pretty good about his chances of
finally finding this treasure that was potentially worth
millions.

His right-hand man Timmons wasn’t
nearly as confident. As Turner’s flunky, Timmons was there to do
his bidding. And typically that’s what he did. In all his years of
employ with Turner, Timmons had never, not once, thrown an
objection his way. And why should he? Turner paid him—and paid him
well—to do what he was told.

Even so, here he was pacing the length
of Turner’s desk, and quite frankly it was a little
annoying.

“
What can go wrong?” Turner
said without fear.

Timmons stopped long enough to ask,
“How do you know you can trust her?” And then he went back to
pacing.

“
I had her checked out.”
Shaking his head, Turner gave a dismissive wave. “She’s nothing but
a two-bit con artist.” He clamped his hands together behind his
head. “And she’s not ambitious enough to steal the treasure away
from me.” Turner’s carefree attitude confirmed his belief in what
he was saying.

Timmons stopped again and faced Turner.
“I don’t know, Boss…I got a bad feeling about this one.”

~~~~

CHAPTER 2

Rio Laraquette was either the smartest
person in Vegas, or she was the dumbest. The jury was still out. It
depended on whether or not there was an actual treasure at the end
of Atkins’s map. There was only one way to find out.

It didn’t take her long to pack up and
leave town, heading north in her 1969 red Corvette. She’d thought
about calling her friend Michelle before she left, but it was a bad
idea. Michelle, who’d picked up the nickname Digger in junior high
because she knew things, wouldn’t let it go once she figured out
what Rio was up to. And she’d figure it out—they didn’t call her
Digger for nothing.

The trip
to Carson City was a good day’s drive, and by the time she arrived
the sun had begun its descent behind the Sierra Nevada
Mountains.

She scored a room at one of the motels
on the south end of town. After hauling her luggage inside, she got
on her laptop and sent an e-mail.

Hey Uncle Gabe...I’m in
Carson City. Never fear, things are in order. Paradise is on track
and closer than you think. I just need to get my hands on the
little birdie...Your loving niece, Rio.

She closed the laptop and set it aside.
Fleeting thoughts of food, specifically the In-n-Out she’d seen on
the way in, rumbled down to her stomach.

Maybe after a quick shower she’d drop
in on the burger joint and then drive by the Tajan’s house. Rio
knew there were two William Tajans in Carson City. William Sr. and
his wife Carole; and William Jr. A background check had confirmed
her theory that they were father and son.

Her mind wandered off to the family.
What did Carole Tajan think of her son? Rio thought it probable
that Carole loved her son with all her heart.

A mother’s love was something Rio had
never experienced. She’d never known what that felt like, but she’d
dreamed about it often enough. Her desire for it made fabricating
this fantastic childhood as Audrey Tajan’s daughter an easy task.
All she had to do was pretend Audrey was everything her own mother
had never been. Rio had plenty of practice at that.

In the bathroom, she stripped and
stepped into the shower. Hot water streamed down over her and
memories that she’d just as soon forget flooded her
mind.

Rio didn’t like thinking about her
childhood, but as of yet she hadn’t figured out how to prevent it.
And she’d give just about anything to stop those few select
memories from sneaking back in.

This wasn’t the first time she’d made
up a mother—complete with wonderful memories of their life
together. The process was like a forbidden drug she used to escape
reality whenever she could. Until now, it’d been a forbidden taboo.
But this time she had an excuse. It was part of the job.

Thoughts of her mother—well, the only
one she’d ever known—crept into her mind. She used her newly
created faux mother to push the bittersweet memory aside. It didn’t
work.

Rio couldn’t have been more than four
or five in her fleeting recollection of being in an elevator with
her parents. She remembered tugging at her father’s jacket with
tears in her eyes. She knew she was frightened but she couldn’t
remember why. To this day she wasn’t sure if she’d been afraid of
the elevator or something else.

Her father had told her she’d never
been comfortable in elevators after that, and even now she wasn’t
fond of them. But nevertheless, on that particular day of Rio’s
childhood her father had seen her fear and scooped her into his
arms.

“
It’s all right,
sweetheart,” he’d said, brushing her tears aside. “You’re safe with
Daddy. You’ll always be safe with Daddy.”

Her mother’s voice shrilled into her
thoughts. “Really, James...you always pamper that
child!”

“
Abby…” He defended his
actions and Rio, shielding her with his arms. “She’s
afraid.”

“
Well…it’s high time she
learns this world is not a pretty place.”

“
Abby, she’s not even five
years old.” Something in her father’s voice that day, something in
the way he’d shielded her, had stayed with Rio.

She struggled to shake the memory. Her
tears mingled with the shower spray.

How could a mother be so cruel? When
Rio was little, she used to think there was something wrong with
her. Something she’d done or said to make her mother despise her
so. But how does a five year old warrant such malicious
behavior?

Her mother’s constant refusal to offer
Rio love had haunted her—even now, long after the woman had
abandoned her.

~~~~

CHAPTER 3

Rio popped a French fry into her mouth
and checked the numbers on the houses as she cruised the
residential street.
346
. Great, 343 should be coming up
soon.

She pulled up along the fence lining
the yard and rolled to a stop near the gate. The yard was modest
but well-kept. There wasn’t an over-abundance of trees or flowers
but what was there was well-groomed and tasteful. There was nothing
spectacular about the unpretentious house, but still, she found it
warm and appealing.

After a moment’s pause, she opened the
car door and stepped out. Throwing her purse over her shoulder, she
headed through the gate and followed the tattered path up to the
porch. She paused at the door and drew a deep breath while fiddling
with the strap hanging over her shoulder; consciously aware that
the bag contained Audrey Tajan’s personal belongings.