The Defender. Lindsay McKenna

is never going to open up its sealed records and give you want you want. You didn’t realize it, but your mother allowed you to have her surname. I know this is an anchor around your neck, Katie. After getting to know you over the past year, I felt you deserved some help. I know your dream is to make a connection with your mother.”

      Automatically, Katie’s fingers brushed against her pounding heart. “You found her? Where? Does she live in Wyoming? Or somewhere else?” Katie had never thought to look for a Bergstrom because the state never told her one way or another if that was her real mother’s name. She felt as if she was going to suffocate.

      Patting her hand, Iris released it. “I’m going to invite my PI, Norah Merton, to come in and share the information she’s discovered. Would you like to hear what she found?”

      “I would.” She stood up and slipped her arms around the older woman. She kissed Iris on the cheek. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

      Chuckling, Iris hugged her back and said, “Let’s get Norah in here, then.”

      Katie was reeling in shock. By the time she had brought another chair over to her desk, a tall woman in her fifties had entered the facility.

      “Katie, meet Norah Merton,” Iris said. “Norah, this is the young woman you’re working for.”

      “Hi, Ms. Merton. It’s nice to meet you.” Katie winced as she heard her voice crack with emotion. The tall, slender woman wore a cream-colored linen pantsuit with a white silk blouse beneath it. She seemed elegant, her dark brown hair coiffed and shoulder-length. The sparkle in her hazel eyes made Katie feel a little less tense.

      “Hi, Katie. Nice to meet you, finally. Mind if we all sit down and I’ll give you my report?”

      “Please,” Katie said, gesturing to her chair. Iris sat down and so did she. Clasping her hands in her lap, Katie tried to sit still. She chewed on her lower lip as the woman pulled out a file from a black calfskin briefcase she carried.

      “I’ve got a lot of information for you, Katie,” Norah said. “And some of it is very upsetting.” Her voice lowered and she went on. “Janet Bergstrom gave you up for adoption when she was sixteen years old. You were born in Cheyenne, Wyoming. Your birth mother gave you her last name. And that made it a lot easier for me to track her down.”

      “She was sixteen?” Katie said, thinking about herself at that age.

      “It’s very young to become pregnant,” Iris consoled her.

      Norah nodded. “Normally, when a teen becomes pregnant, her family steps in. That wasn’t the case. Candy Bergstrom, Janet’s mother, was a drug addict herself. Janet was born with cocaine in her system. Candy gave Janet up for adoption right after birth. It was the start of a pattern. When Janet gave birth to you, she gave you her name, Bergstrom, and gave you up at birth. But she lied about who your father was. She put down Lawrence Kincaid, but there is no proof he ever existed. Janet probably lied to protect the real father for whatever reason. That means I wasn’t able to trace your grandparents, either. I’m sorry.”

      She felt as if someone had struck her in the chest with a hammer. Katie touched her heart. “At least I know,” she managed in a strained voice. “What else?”

      “Candy Bergstrom died at age forty of hepatitis B. She got the disease through a dirty needle. She died of liver failure.”

      “Did...my mother know her mother?”

      Shaking her head, Norah said, “No. I don’t know if your mother tried to find out or not.”

      Norah handed Katie several black and white photos. “I found these photos of Candy Bergstrom at the Cheyenne Police Department. She was up on drug charges at least ten times in her life.”

      Katie stared down at the mug shots. There were some full-face and two profiles of her grandmother. “I can see the shape of my face in her face,” she said in a low voice. But that was all. Lifting her head, she asked, “Do you have photos of my mother?”

      Norah nodded and handed her three photos. “These are mug shots too, Katie. You need to prepare yourself. Your mother, Janet Bergstrom, was in federal prison for five years.”

      Katie’s hand shook as she took the photos from Norah. “Prison?” Her voice cracked.

      “Yes. Your mother grew up in ten different foster homes. I can only surmise she was rebellious but I can’t prove it. At sixteen, she was impregnated by someone, but we don’t know who it was. Your mother gave you up after birth and got tangled up with a drug-cartel boss named Xavier Lobos. When your mother was thirty years old, the FBI caught her running guns to Montana. She never gave up Xavier Lobos in court and went to prison for five years because she refused to cooperate with the FBI. They offered her a plea deal if she’d turn in the evidence, but Janet refused.”

      “My mother’s a drug dealer?” Hot tears jammed her eyes. Valiantly, Katie tried to handle the shocking news. She felt Iris grip her hand to comfort her. The older woman was also moved to tears. “This...this is awful.... I had dreamed my parents were great people, important...successful.... God, I was so wrong...”

      “I know, honey,” Iris whispered. “I know you thought your mother was someone special, that she had a good life and was happy.”

      Norah added in a sad tone, “So often, abandoned children grow up with an incredible dream that their parents are accomplished, successful and happy.” Opening her hands, the investigator said, “Unfortunately, it’s usually the opposite, Katie. A young teen mother has no home support, so she gives up her baby. And sometimes, she spirals down after that instead of trying to mature and remake her life into something positive.”

      Katie wiped her eyes with trembling fingers. She sniffed. “You’re right, Norah. I had these crazy dreams my mother was a pilot, a ballet dancer or maybe a famous artist....”

      Iris said, “Honey, as you know, Rudd was adopted by Trevor and me. We know how painful it is for someone like yourself to discover her roots. And often, it’s not what you might have imagined. You’re looking pale. Do you want to take a break? Maybe get some coffee at the ranch house? Or would you prefer Norah come back another time? I know this is a lot to absorb.”

      Katie squeezed the older woman’s work-worn hand. “No, I’m so thankful you hired Norah. At least now I know the truth. I can stop worrying and wondering who my mother was....”

      Iris nodded to the private investigator. “Go on, Norah. Katie might look young and innocent, but she’s tough on the inside.”

      “Okay,” Norah said with a slight smile. She turned and focused on Katie. “After being released from prison, your mother went to Guatemala. She remained there for a year. I can’t get any information on her there except that the police had proof she was living with Xavier Lobos. And then she moved back to Cheyenne. At that point, she built Mercury Courier service. It’s a state-wide courier service delivering packages and other communications around the state. I’m assuming Xavier Lobos underwrote her business. She didn’t have any income that I could detect. In other words, the police and FBI suspect but can’t prove she’s being bankrolled by Lobos.”

      Dragging in a ragged breath, Katie couldn’t take her gaze off the black-and-white mug shots of her mother. Her hands turned damp and cool as she touched the photos. “She’s still a drug dealer, then?”

      “Most likely,” Norah said, “but again, understand the authorities can’t prove it. If she is, she’s very good at it. Janet’s been out of prison seven years and hasn’t been caught. Maybe she’s not aligned with the Lobos cartel. I think you should assume she’s innocent until proven otherwise. Many times, prison will change a person for the better.”

      “She’s really beautiful, isn’t she?” Katie said, still mesmerized by her mother’s photo.

      Iris heard the wistfulness in Katie’s voice. “Yes, Janet is very attractive, but so are you.”

      “We—look