Pipeline (6 page)

"You
check the drawers, and I'll see what's up with the computer," he said.

I
pulled the drawers from the desk one at a time and went through them. In the
bottom drawer were more notebooks. I fanned through them checking the dates, looking
for anything Kyle had scribbled down in the last three or four months. Pauli
turned on the computer and stuck a CD in the drive. Most of them contained
parts of stories, but none were related to illegals. I found a couple of recent
notebooks and wasn't happy to see that Kyle had developed his own version of
shorthand. Mostly numbers and initials. But there were a couple of plain
English notations that caught my interest.

"You
bring the camera?" I asked Pauli as he scrolled through files on the CDs.
Without stopping what he was doing, he reached into his jacket pocket and
tossed me a little camera that looked like a prize from a Cracker Jack box.

Loading
it with film, I snapped several pages, hoping the piece of junk in my hand
worked.

"Ah-ha!"
I heard Pauli say.

"Find
something?"

"Found
a CD that's protected. Kid's got about twenty of 'em here, and this is the only
one that's protected."

"Can
you copy it?"

"What
good would that do? I don't know his password. If we had more time I know a guy
who could probably get past it."

"Well,
we don't have more time, and if it's got what we need on it, he'll probably
check it pretty quick so we can't take it."

"Hell,
could just be pornographic fantasies that he doesn't want his girlfriend to
see." Pauli shrugged.

We continued
looking for over an hour before the phone rang. When it rang a second time and
stopped, we quickly finished what we were doing and left the apartment.

Sitting
in Pauli's car, we watched Sarita pull a silver Nissan Sentra into a parking
space in front of the apartment building half an hour later and open the trunk
to remove a small bag. She was well dressed in a calf-length denim skirt,
boots, and an embroidered blouse. A silver concho belt encircled her slim
waist, and long black hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She
reminded me of Selma Hayak and it didn't take much deductive reasoning to see
why Kyle had been attracted her. As Kyle slowly pulled himself out of the
passenger seat, Sarita went to his side of the car, and I got my first glimpse
of his face as he turned. He had grown into an extraordinarily handsome young
man. His Hispanic heritage was obvious with thick black hair framing his olive
complexion.

The
last time I had seen him he had been wearing jeans and boots and was sitting on
a horse at the ranch. He couldn't have been more than ten or eleven then,
oblivious to the problems swirling around him, problems he might never
understand.

It
had been my last trip to the ranch with Cate and Kyle. I knew we didn't have a
perfect relationship but hadn't realized how much trouble we were in. Who the
hell was I kidding? I knew we were in serious trouble and had chosen to
overlook it, hoping, like Herbert Hoover at the beginning of the Great
Depression, that everything would work itself out on its own. And like Hoover,
I had been wrong.

We
hadn't been to the ranch in over a year and decided to drop in the day before I
left on my next assignment. Cate and I had already had an argument before we
arrived but tried to fake our way through the visit. I didn't know how much my
mother had noticed, but my father had been annoyingly perceptive. An hour or so
before we returned to Austin, he asked me to help him with something in the
barn. Although we both knew he had never needed my help for anything, I went
along anyway. He smacked me across the face as soon as we reached the barn.

"What
the hell was that for?" I asked, feeling to see if my mouth was bleeding.

"I
was hoping that would knock some sense into that thick head of yours. I've
never butted into your personal life, Jo. You've always done everything your
own way no matter what the consequences might be. But I'm telling you straight
up that if you don't get your shit together you're going to lose Cate and
Kyle."

"We'll
work it out."

"How're
you planning to do that when you're always halfway around the goddamn world?
Mental telepathy? This is gonna be your third overseas assignment just this
year!"

"After
this assignment I'm taking some time off. Then I'll be home for more than a few
days."

"You
ain't got a home. You rent an apartment, for Christ's sake."

"Cate's
looking for a house. Next time I'm home..."

But
there never was a next time.

Chapter
Seven

MY
COURTSHIP OF Cate Hammond had begun not long after she had magically gotten me
out of jail. Although she had initially rejected the idea, the more she
resisted the more I wanted to be with her. It had been a long time since I'd
had to work that hard to be with a woman, but my whole life had been built
around accepting challenges and taking risks.

My
persistence finally paid off, and Cate agreed to have dinner with me. After
dinner, we went to a women's bar to see what the local scene had to offer and
decided to stick around a while for a drink. I had missed dancing, but it
wasn't the dancing I was interested in. It was the chance to find out what she
would feel like in my arms. She was a perfect fit. Sooner than I would have
liked, she told me she had to be in court early the next morning, and I drove
her home.

"Thanks,
Jo," she said as we reached her door. "It was an interesting evening,
and I haven't been out in a while."

"I
can't believe you aren't asked out all the time," I said.

"I
didn't say I wasn't asked out. I said I hadn't been out."

"I
guess you must have a pretty heavy schedule at the defender's office."

"Usually."

What
had been comfortable quickly became uncomfortable. I was thirty-two, but she
made me feel eighteen and awkward again. I had been with my share of women
overseas, but looking back on those encounters, I realized that those women all
understood what was expected at the end of an evening and were prepared for it
without lengthy or meaningful conversation. This was a different situation, and
I wasn't sure how to handle it.

"I'd
like to see you again, Cate."

"I
don't know, Jo. I've got a pretty full week ahead."

"You
can't work every night."

"If
I want to be prepared for court I have to. Everything can't be done at the
office."

"What
about the weekend? Don't you take a break then?"

"Sometimes
on Sunday."

Reaching
out and placing my hand on her arm, I said, "Then let me have
Sunday."

Cate
looked at my hand on her arm and smiled. I stepped closer to her and looked
into those deep blue eyes as I leaned down and kissed her. As I kissed her more
deeply a second time, her lips parted, and she made no effort to resist my
advances. When our lips finally parted, she smiled at me. I wanted her and she
knew it.

"Cate..."

"Sunday,"
she said.

When
Sunday finally arrived, an eternity later, Cate fixed breakfast in the morning,
and we made love the rest of the day. From Sunday until the day I boarded my
plane a week later, we were together. In the evenings, we prepared dinner
together, and I helped her prepare cases. She practiced opening and closing
statements on me. I loved talking to her and simple things pleased her. We
talked about world events, cussed and discussed politics, and she was, frankly,
the first woman I had been with in a long time who knew more than
single-syllable words.

The
day I left, she drove me to the airport and waited with me at the gate. The
waiting area of one airport looks pretty much the same in every airport, but I
had never noticed how crowded they were before. The excruciatingly
uncomfortable plastic seats were bolted to the floor and had obviously been
designed by sadistic dwarves. There were so many people sitting and milling
around that it was difficult to carry on a conversation. Little kids played tag
to kill time and, left unattended by their parents, jumped over our legs.

"I
wish I didn't have to go," I said.

"We
knew you'd be leaving, Jo. It's what you do." She smiled.

"It
doesn't seem fair to you, asking you to wait."

"I've
got plenty to keep me busy here. Thanks for helping me with my cases."

"I
had an ulterior motive." I grinned. "The faster you got finished with
what you were doing, the faster I could get you into bed."

When
my flight number was called, I stood up and took Cate's hand.

"I'll
be back in a month or two. I'll call to let you know."

Cate
smiled and hugged me. "I'll save Sunday for you."

That
was how we spent our time for almost a year —me going away and returning after
long absences, and Cate always giving me Sunday no matter what day of the week
it really was.

I
hadn't been happy about my next assignment when I returned to Austin that Christmas.
It had been nearly three months since I had been home, and as the plane
descended, I looked down and saw trees everywhere around the city. It was
unusually warm for mid-December, according to the pilot, and he hoped everyone
had enjoyed the flight.

I
waited in my seat until nearly everyone else had deplaned to avoid injuring
anyone with my duffel bag and camera case. Nodding to the stewardess, I started
down the walkway and into the terminal. Cate was nowhere in sight, and I hoped
she had gotten my telegram. Halfway down the concourse leading to the street, I
finally saw her coming toward me and jogged the best I could with my bags,
dropping everything to sweep her into my arms.

"I'm
sorry I'm late," Cate said breathlessly. "Court adjourned late and traffic
is terrible."

"It
doesn't matter. You look great," I said, unable to restrain a smile.

Cate
picked up my camera case and took my arm. Piling everything into the back seat
of her car, we headed away from the airport.

"How
long will you be home?" Cate asked as she checked for oncoming traffic at
the airport exit.

"Through
New Year's. Got any holiday plans?"

"A
few." Cate smiled.

When
we reached Cate's apartment, I dropped my bags on the bedroom floor, took Cate
in my arms, and fell onto the bed. I wanted and needed to catch up on three
months' worth of kisses and lovemaking in the eighteen days we had. We stopped
to come up for air a few minutes later, but I couldn't let her go.

"Jo,
we need to talk," Cate said as I nibbled at her neck.

"Sounds
serious."

"Not
really. It's just something I've been thinking about for a long time, and I'd
already set the gears in motion before I met you ."

"Oh,
this really sounds mysterious." I smiled.

"About
a year ago, I began the paperwork to adopt a child. Yesterday, the agency I'm
using called and said they have a two-year-old boy available and are having a
difficult time placing him because of some health problems. They want to know
if I would be interested."

"What
kinds of health problems?"

"His
mother is an alcoholic and didn't spend much time taking care of him. He's
malnourished and underweight and," she paused.

"And
what?"

"He
has a cleft palate that has never been repaired. That's why he's
malnourished."

"I
see," I said.

"Surgery
can correct his palate, but it will be a lengthy process. The state removed him
from his home and will pay for most of the medical expenses."

"What
else do you know about his parents?"

"I
know his mother is Hispanic, but the agency knows virtually nothing about his
father except that he's Caucasian."

"That's
a lot of baggage for a kid to carry around, Cate."

"But
a good home now while he's still so young can give him the chance to live a
good life."

Cate
had hit the ball into my court, and I wasn't sure how to return it. I loved
Cate, but children hadn't been in my immediate, or even distant, plans.

"I've
never heard you mention wanting to becoming a mother before."

"I've
been thinking about it for a few years. Adoption seemed the only logical
option, considering my lifestyle."

"Then
I guess the choice is yours, sweetheart." I shrugged.

"It
involves you, too, Jo. Having a child in the house will change a lot of
things."

I
wasn't sure what Cate expected me to say. I stood up and looked down at her.
"You know I'd do anything in the world for you, baby, but I've never even
considered being a parent. I wish you'd mentioned this a little sooner."

"Would
it have made a difference?" She frowned slightly, her eyes betraying her
disappointment to my reaction.