going to get many facts from Travers under the circumstances. The man was clearly fit to be tied. But who was he angry at? Shah? Jake could understand a father being concerned about his daughter possibly being in danger, but where was this anger coming from? His gut told him there was a hidden agenda here, but could he get it out of Travers?
“Although she was born on the Sioux reservation, my daughter has had the finest education my money could buy. She has a master’s degree in biology from Stanford University in California. I tried to persuade her to go after her Ph.D., but she said there was no time left, that Mother Earth was dying. Hell!” Travers raked his fingers through his hair again. “She’s got her mother’s firebrand temper and stubbornness. She’s bullheaded and won’t listen to anyone!”
He turned away and stared out the windows at the distant city. “Shortly after I divorced Shah’s mother, I went to court to have my ex-wife pronounced an unfit mother. I didn’t want my daughter raised on a Depression-level Indian reservation. Unfortunately, my ex-wife won. Shah spent the first eighteen years of her life on a damned reservation. What kind of place is that? They’re backward there. Shah’s mother is a medicine woman, and she forced Shah to live the old ways of her people. She was raised a heathen—never baptized. I should have—”
“Your daughter is a biologist down in Brazil,” Jake said impatiently. “Is she on an assignment?”
“Yes. For a television station in Los Angeles that has paid her to investigate the destruction of the tropical rain forest in Brazil. Shah is an environmental activist. She thrives on confrontation.” He shook his head. “She just won’t back down.”
Jake cast a look at Morgan, who was listening intently. “In a businessman, those attributes are often applauded,” he noted mildly.
Travers glared at him. “Believe me, I tried to force my daughter to follow in my footsteps, but she didn’t want anything to do with real estate. I tried to tell her it was about land, which she’s so close to, but she said no Indian would ever sell the land, because it isn’t ours to sell. She asked me one time, ‘How can you sell Mother Earth? We’re her children. All we can do is steward, not greedily buy and sell it.’ Can you imagine? My own daughter calling me greedy because I buy and sell land?”
“Sounds like a cultural difference of opinion,” Morgan murmured.
Jake liked Shah’s attitude. He didn’t particularly care for greedy people, whatever their business. “What makes you think your daughter’s in trouble?” he asked.
Travers snorted and came over to them. He put his hands on his hips. “Shah goes out of her way to get into trouble. This isn’t the first time, you know. She married that no-good half-breed Sioux when I told her not to—that it was a mistake. Well, it turned out to be one hell of a mistake. Shah’s divorced from him now, but she had to be put in the hospital by that alcoholic husband of hers before she came to her senses.” He nailed Jake with a dark look. “My daughter lives for confrontation. Being physically attacked doesn’t bother her. It’s almost as if she expects it. Well, I’ve put too much money into her education to let her waste it, or herself, on some damned trees in the Amazon!”
“Calm down, Ken,” Morgan ordered. “Do you know what her exact assignment in Brazil is?”
“No. As I said, I just found out from my ex-wife that Shah left a month ago for Brazil.”
“And what do you want us to do?” Morgan asked quietly.
“Bring her home! Get her out of there!”
“If she has a valid passport, approved by the Brazilian government, and she wants to stay, there’s nothing we can do,” Jake pointed out.
“Kidnap her, then!”
Morgan grimaced. “Mr. Travers, we’re not in the kidnapping business. We’re in the business of providing protection and help to those who ask for it. But in this case, your daughter isn’t asking us for help, you are.”
“I can’t believe this! I’ll pay you any amount of money to bring her out of Brazil! Shah should be home!”
Ordinarily, so soon after returning from a mission, Jake would be falling asleep in his chair, but this time he wasn’t. He liked what he heard about Shah—a woman who evidently believed deeply and passionately in something beyond herself. It was too bad more Americans didn’t have that kind of commitment.
“Maybe,” Jake said, glancing over at Morgan, “I could go down there and be a bodyguard of sorts.” He turned to Travers. “I won’t bring back your daughter against her will. Kidnapping is against the law in every nation in the world. What I can do is be there to protect her if she gets into trouble.”
Morgan nodded. “Okay, that’s what we can do, Mr. Travers. Jake is ideal for the mission, and I don’t see a problem in him being a bodyguard for your daughter. What I want you to understand is, Jake won’t haul her out of Brazil unless she wants to go.”
Looking defeated, Travers spun on his heel. “I guess it’s better than nothing,” he muttered. He halted and turned his head in Jake’s direction. “But I want you to do your damnedest to convince her to leave Brazil as quickly as possible. Can you do that?”
With a shrug, Jake finished off the last of the coffee and cookie. “No promises, Mr. Travers. Your daughter is an adult, mature and educated enough to know what she’s doing. All I can do is wage a diplomatic campaign to try to get her to see your side of the issue.”
“Then,” Travers said unhappily, “I guess that’s what I’ll have to settle for.” He took a photo out of his wallet and handed it to Morgan. “That’s my daughter. You’ll need to know what she looks like.”
Morgan got up and came around the desk. “My assistant will have a number of papers for you to fill out and sign. She’ll take you to another office to complete them. When you’re done, we’ll talk some more.”
“Fine.”
Jake watched Travers leave. Marie entered with Morgan’s box lunch and set it on his desk. When she’d left, Jake stood up and placed his coffee cup on the silver tray.
“That guy has problems,” Jake began seriously. He returned to his chair by Morgan’s desk. Curiosity was eating him alive as he leaned forward to look at the small color photo of Shah Sungilo Travers.
Morgan smiled. “I don’t care for his abrasive attitude, that’s for sure. Go on, take a look at her.”
Jake picked up the photo and studied it intently. Shah looked Native American, from her braided black hair to her light brown eyes, high cheekbones, full mouth and oval-shaped face. The photo was a close-up, but Jake could see that she was wearing a deerskin dress that was beaded and fringed. In her hair was a small eagle feather, along with several other decorations that hung to one side of her head. Her braids were wrapped in some kind of fur.
“She looks like she stepped out of the past,” Jake said, more to himself than to Morgan.
“Doesn’t she?”
“If she’s half-white, she doesn’t look it.”
Morgan nodded and continued slowly eating his sandwich. “You looked interested, Jake,” he noted after he swallowed.
“Maybe.”
With
