Every Serengeti Sunrise
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Trust. Life was nothing without it. Trust meant a sense of peace, honesty and truth. It meant feeling safe. A person could be themselves around those they trusted. He was honored that Pippa would confide in him...but Maddie? Getting married?
Something faint and indefinable pinched at his chest. The young Maddie he’d known had loved wearing jeans, feeding baby animals and camping. The last Maddie he’d seen had looked more like a big-city office type: hose, heels and tied-up hair. Maybe the real Maddie was the one who’d be happy spending her life with a man in a suit. They could carpool to court the way he and Pippa liked to floor a jeep across the savannah. He lowered his chin briefly to release a cramp at the back of his neck. It was none of his business anyway. There was no reason why any of it should bother him.
“Maybe you should just wait and see before making up stories,” Haki said, pulling up next to three other Busara jeeps parked just far enough from the camp’s wooden pens so as not to disturb the baby elephants. They were all recovering from injuries incurred when their mothers were killed in the name of ivory. A keeper stood feeding a ravenous calf with a milk bottle in a small grassy clearing to the left of the pens. Dr. Bekker—Auntie Anna, as Haki called her—glanced over her shoulder and gave them a relieved thumbs-up when Pippa hopped out of the jeep. She shook her head at her daughter, then ducked into their small vet clinic.
Judging from the absence of their rescue vehicles, Haki’s father and his crew had already been called off on mission. Dr. Kamau Odaba was a field veterinarian who’d been working at Busara from the start...and who’d fallen in love with Haki’s mother, Niara Juma, and had taken them both under his wing when Haki was five. He was the only father Haki had ever known, and the only one he ever wanted to. He and his mother had taken Kam’s last name after the marriage and his legal adoption. Since his father was Dr. Odaba, their staff avoided confusion by calling him Dr. Haki.
“Maybe I’m right,” Pippa said as she came around the jeep and leaned on the rim of Haki’s open window. “Maddie will need us as backup if she tells Uncle Ben she’s getting engaged. If you thought training with her dad was tough, can you imagine the vetting he’d put this poor guy through?”
“Good. He should.”
“Haki, have a heart.”
“Me?” He couldn’t help but chuckle. “You spent too much time hanging upside down from trees as a child. You haven’t even met this man who—I might add—is a figment of your overactive imagination, yet you’re already defending him. But say he does exist. What if he’s not good for her? What if you end up hating him?”
“I won’t because I trust Maddie’s judgment. I’m sure I’d adore any man worthy of her love.”
Haki rubbed his forehead, then restarted the jeep. Mosi, a small vervet monkey, squealed at them before scampering down a nearby fig tree and eyeing Pippa for food.
“My hands are empty, Mosi.”
The little guy was the only child of the late Ambosi, a three-legged vervet who’d been rescued by Dr. Bekker when Pippa and Haki were infants and who’d spent his life hanging around Busara for treats...or because of the amusing crush he seemed to have had on Dr. Bekker. He’d gotten quite jealous when Pippa’s father, Jack, had shown up at Busara. It was no secret that Pippa missed Ambosi. Everyone did.
“I have to get back to work, Pip.”
“I know. It’s just...” She wrinkled her nose and shrugged. “Never mind.”
“What is it?”
“Nothing. It was a totally selfish thought. Best to keep it in my head.”
“There’s not a selfish bone in your body. An uncontrollably wild imagination, yes. But not selfishness. Out with it.”
Pippa sighed and looked at Mosi, then gazed wistfully at the house that her and Haki’s parents had built after they’d married. It had been built for both families so they could live more comfortably at Busara. Both of their younger siblings had been born in that home. Maddie had played in that home.
“It hit me that I hardly get to see her as it is. Once she’s married or has children, she’ll be even busier. I want her to be happy, the way you and I are, but a part of me is afraid of losing her. See? Rotten selfishness. Don’t you dare repeat anything I just said.”
Haki grabbed one of her hands and pressed her knuckles to his lips.
“First, you’re going to freak Maddie out when she finds out you’ve planned her wedding with a man she’s never met. Second, you’ll always have me. And third, you’ll never lose her. She’s your cousin. She’s family.”
Pippa gave him a small smile.
“Okay. You’re the best, you know? Now, go save some animals or help catch some bad guys.” She ducked her head in the window and gave him a quick peck. “Be safe.”
“You, too,” he warned, then backed out. He pulled his sunglasses out of the glove compartment and slipped them on.
You’ll never lose her. She’s family. But he knew Maddie was more than just Pippa’s cousin. They were best friends the way Haki’s mother, Niara, and Anna were. Pippa was right about a woman’s strength. Their mothers had raised them both at Busara when the remote camp consisted of nothing more than a few tents and a water well. They’d had no amenities. No extravagances. Just each other. Pippa hadn’t had a lot of other girls around growing up out here.
That’s why he hated that Maddie didn’t seem to understand how much Pippa missed her. It was also why Pippa wasn’t just any girl to Haki. He’d known her all his life. They’d been through every growing pain together, from infancy to toddlerhood to the troublesome teens. Maddie had been around during their teens, too. But he and Pippa had a future together. Not because Haki put faith in the Laibon’s divination methods—that silliness was Pippa’s thing, along with reading her horoscope every now and then. No, Haki knew she was the one because their lives had become so intertwined he couldn’t see them ever being apart.
They were perfect for each other. The whole family saw it and often dropped hints about what their wedding would be like. Something small at Busara surrounded by family and the baby elephant orphans they both loved so much...or something more elegant at one of Amboseli National Park’s lodges? It didn’t really matter to Haki. He just wanted life as they knew it to carry on. As long as they both continued their work to save the elephants and he could take care of her and their family... As long as Pippa was happy, he’d be happy.
Maybe asking Maddie for insight on their legislative proposal wasn’t a bad idea. It would give him the chance to talk to her and to nudge her into spending some time at Busara. Like the good old days.
For Pippa’s sake.
Static buzzed over Haki’s radio and he grabbed it just as the call came through. The air rushing through the jeep’s windows went from refreshing to thick and heavy with the burden of death.
He made a sharp left around a dense mass of Red Grass and aimed for the coordinates coming through. Coordinates that were all too familiar.
He wiped his face against his sleeve and stepped on the gas.
The poachers KWS had been hunting down had been apprehended about a kilometer west of where Haki had found Pippa photographing the rhinos. The poachers had tracked the rhinos and were intercepted while heading toward the Kenya-Tanzania border with their tusks.
The old bull, Malik, was dead.
CHAPTER TWO
MADDIE CORALLIS’S PALM stung as she caught herself against the bathroom door at the law offices of Levy, Hatterson & Palomas. Every door in the restored historic building in Philadelphia was the original oak—as solid as nature had intended. She balanced her laptop and a stack of documents in her left hand and gave her right wrist a quick turn to ease her cramped joint.
Higher heels boost confidence and make a girl look more dignified, huh? That was the last time she’d listen to the women in the break room at lunch. No, they had not specifically told her to run out and buy new shoes, nor had they suggested an eye-catching dark red, but she’d overheard them emphasizing that women who— Darnit. Maddie gritted her teeth. They’d wanted her to overhear them. You gullible idiot.
She righted her brand-new pumps using her toes and shoved her foot back in, then glanced around the firm’s loft-style top floor in the hopes that no one had witnessed her klutziness. Patrick Cole, the other junior lawyer, quickly turned back to whatever he was feeding the fax machine, but he made no effort to hide his smirk. Of all the stuck-up—
She pulled back her shoulders, entered the bathroom and locked the door behind her.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Of all people,” she muttered. She set down her pile on the shimmery, black granite counter by the sink, inspected her reflection and took a deep breath. “Keep your eyes on the goal. They won’t be laughing when you make partner. Now get yourself together and get back out there.”
The concealer she’d dabbed under her eyes was holding up. Her hair wasn’t. Her long, wavy locks were annoyingly thick and silky, always slipping out of any band or clip she used to keep them in place. No wonder her first mother, Zoe, had finally cropped hers short after Maddie’s little brother, Ryan, was born. It had no doubt made her routine with three little kids around a lot easier. Maddie tried that once during her first year in law school. She had it all chopped off and the resulting dark brown bob looked just like her mama’s did in an old photo. Only instead of looking pretty and chic on Maddie, it made her look boyish and even more pale.
She pinched her cheeks, pulled her bun loose and flipped her head upside down. The three silver bangles she never took off her wrist tinkled like wind chimes as she finger-combed her hair and twisted it back up in a tighter knot. Her second mom had given her those bracelets when Maddie was only ten years old. They’d belonged to Hope’s grandmother...or Maddie’s step-great-grandmother. Hope hadn’t been married to Maddie’s father at the time, but she’d already become an important part of the family. She’d helped Maddie cope after the death of her birth mother and those bracelets meant more to Maddie than anything. Three silver rings, one for each of the three of them—Maddie, her mama, as she used to call Zoe, and Hope, her mom. Her bracelets held memories...and a magical bond. They were a reminder that life went on, and their soft, bell-like music always gave her courage.
She’d make it through this meeting with her boss, the toughest of the partners at Levy, Hatterson & Palomas. She’d presented her work to the senior lawyers before and had survived any criticism thrown her way, but the memo requesting that Patrick be there, too, had her a little rattled. What did presenting her case research have to do with him?
She smoothed her brown tweed pencil skirt and matching blazer, grabbed her pile of folders and headed toward the conference room, this time careful not to catch her heel on an uneven floorboard.
“Good morning, Mr. Levy.” Maddie aimed for pleasantness, without the smile. Being serious, both in expression and looks, was part of her strategy for climbing the ranks. She’d noticed early on that if a guy smiled around here, he was being congenial, but if a woman did, it somehow diluted her brainpower and made her flirty. If she had to play borderline cold, she would.
This office was a man’s world, and Maddie was desperate to move on from being a junior lawyer. The position was synonymous with grunt worker, and a year into the job, the grunt was already getting old. While the seniors got to spend their evenings dining clients at four-star restaurants, she and the other glorified minions in the office burned the midnight oil researching cases, or making sure dates and other details were in order. Being a junior lawyer was beginning to make her wonder why she’d gone to law school to begin with. No hearings. No appearing before judges. No showing what she was made of.
Showing her family—particularly her father—what she was made of was why she’d worked so hard. She wanted to prove she could be strong and successful on her own. And after all those years in law school, here she was getting bossed around and doing work for others. For stern, older men just like her military dad. She scratched her wrist below her bracelets as her boss shuffled through papers.
“Good morning.” Mr. Levy hit Send on what she assumed was a text, then set his smartphone on the polished cherrywood conference table. “Have a seat. Where’s Patrick?”
“I saw him at the fax. I’m sure he’ll be in any minute. Oh, here are the files on the Clear Lake housing developments you needed.” She set the pile—all but her laptop—next to him, then went to the opposite end of the table to sit. “It includes signed affidavits from tenants who’ve been discriminated against, as well as some who’ve tried contracting new builds. Incident specifics are there, as well, including emails and text messages between defendants and the builder.”
“Excellent.” Mr. Levy began scanning pages. “Good work. Ah, Patrick,” he said, as Patrick waltzed in. He stuck out his hand, which Mr. Levy didn’t hesitate to shake. “Have a seat.”
The brownnoser sat in a chair right next to Levy, without greeting Maddie. Maddie fiddled with her bracelets under the table. Man’s world, much? She’d known coming into this practice—which was a huge honor in and of itself—that competition for senior partnership years down the road would be high, but the subtle animosity and jealous streaks among the juniors was worse than she’d expected. Downright ugly, in her opinion. This place redefined competitive.
You grew up surrounded by brothers and a hard-nosed dad. Remember, Patrick is nothing but a twerp, and your boss is a teddy bear in disguise—on some plane of existence.
“I called you both in here to discuss the next two months. Ms. Corallis, we spoke briefly about you helping out temporarily at our office in Nairobi.”
Patrick scooted his chair closer to the table and scratched the side of his neck. A junior lawyer being sent to an exotic locale was a pretty big deal, although Kenya wasn’t exactly exotic to her. At least not in the way it was for those who’d never lived there. Eight years of her childhood, plus regular visits since she began college in the US, made Kenya a second home to her. Not a vacation spot. Plus, traveling overseas and coming back a week later would be exhausting. She’d get jet lag whiplash. And since this was a work trip, she’d barely have time to see her family.
However, the color creeping up the back of Patrick’s neck did remind her of a sunrise over the Serengeti, or better yet, the vibrant red dress of a warrior in the Masai Mara. She tipped her chin up ever so slightly.
“Yes, sir. The Native Watch Global case.” The one she had yet to be fully briefed on. The one that, incidentally, had nothing to do with Patrick. Maybe he was being sent to their London office for something related?
“I had Helen book your tickets. I’m assuming you’ll be able to stay with your family while there.” Mr. Levy passed an envelope down to her via Patrick. “We need you to leave on Wednesday. I trust that all works for you?”
About a week sooner than expected, but did she have a choice?
“Of course,” Maddie said as she opened the envelope. That wouldn’t give her enough time to check on her grandparents a few hours west of Philadelphia. She’d call them. She also needed to drop by the store and get a slow-release vacation feeder for her Betta fish. She pulled the ticket out of the envelope.
“Patrick,” Mr. Levy continued, “I’ll need you to take over this Clear Lake discrimination case in her absence.”
Everything registered in the same second. The dates on the ticket. Mr. Levy turning her stack of blood, sweat and tears over to the enemy. Maddie’s feet went cold.
“Sir. I think there’s a mistake with the tickets. These have me gone a month. I was only supposed to be in Nairobi for a week. I think I’ve given you everything you need for now on the Clear Lake case, but I’ll have my computer with me if you need anything else.”
It had better be a mistake. She didn’t care if she sounded territorial; she couldn’t lose that discrimination case to Patrick. It had high-profile written all over it. If she helped propel her seniors to victory on it, it would build their confidence in her and, in turn, increase her chances of eventually making partner. Handing all her work over to the twerp was worse than a slap in the face. The corner of Patrick’s mouth curved up as he flipped through her files.
“I’m afraid we need you overseas longer than we previously thought,” Mr. Levy said. “Patrick, I’d like you to familiarize yourself with that paperwork, then return it to me after lunch. Today. I want you on the same track we’ve been on with it. This won’t add too much to your workload, given the Kline-versus-Boone case is over. I must say, I love a victory.”
“Absolutely, sir. I won’t disappoint with this one, either.”
You won’t disappoint because I did all the work.
She wanted to scream. She folded her hands on the table in as poised a manner as possible, crossed her legs and let her dangling foot buzz back and forth like a hovering hornet, itching to sting someone. Patrick sat back, all smug, in his chair.
“Feel free to get started on that right now, Mr. Cole.” Mr. Levy gave him a raised brow. Patrick jumped up and gathered his—no, her—assignment.
“Of course. Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Levy. I’ll have this back to you today.” He hesitated briefly on his way out of the conference room. “Have a safe trip, Maddie. Say hello to your family for me.”
Maddie’s foot kicked up speed, but she managed to keep her lips sealed shut and her look composed from the waist up. What a phenomenal jerk. He didn’t know or care one iota about her family. He just wanted to emphasize to Mr. Levy that he’d be working hard while she’d probably waste time in Kenya lounging around with her siblings. Having younger brothers had helped her develop a certain level of immunity to button-pushing, but this kind of insidious workplace manipulation just irked the—
Her shoe flung off her foot and hit...something...with a thud.
Oh, God. Please, not Mr. Levy’s leg. Anything but the leg.
Mr. Levy frowned at her. Maddie smiled back, big and bright. She was toast.
She ducked her head under the table. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. Her heart eased back into its normal position. Her shoe had only knocked the table’s Federal-style leg. Hopefully the grooves would hide any nicks. She stretched her leg and managed to get her foot back in the pump, hands-free.
“Sorry about that. Umm...new shoes. They, uh, don’t fit well.”
He nodded as if that all made perfect sense. Then again, he was married. She’d seen the boutique heels his wife paraded around in whenever she dropped by the office. Shoes Maddie could never afford. Maybe it did make sense to him. She curled her toes in the knockoffs that were doing absolutely nothing for her confidence.
“Better take a more sensible pair to Kenya. You won’t be walking in the city,” he said.
“About that. With all due respect, I can handle both cases. I’m the one who brought the Clear Lake discrimination situation to our attention. I did all that research. The people involved know my name and face and—”
“And you’ve done a remarkable job with it. That’s in part why I personally recommended you for the Kenya case. Listen...” He folded his arms and sighed. “I understand your frustration. I was at your stage in my career once, more years ago than I care to mention. Everyone wants a high-profile case, or at least one that’s bigger than the rest. The Native Watch Global case may or may not be big in terms of headline news, but it’s significant in terms of humanitarian impact. When I interviewed you out of school, you made it clear you were interested in human-rights law.”
“I am.”
“Good. Because NWG is counting on us. What’s happening with Kenya’s native tribes—the Masai, in this case—is very similar to the type of land loss or encroachment our own Native Americans are still suffering. And on top of the tribe’s desperation, a more recent proposal was submitted to increase punishment for defending their crops against destruction by wildlife. Our barristers at the Nairobi office are currently inundated with other cases. Of course, they’ll still handle any actual court appearances with this one, as required by law there. However, they need the extra manpower in gathering firsthand research to counter this proposal before it goes to the Kenyan cabinet for approval.”
Maddie placed her hands on her laptop and nodded. Manpower. More of the same work, only overseas. It was like being a ghostwriter. A behind-the-scenes ghost lawyer. And they were getting off without paying for a hotel, to boot. She took a deep breath and was assaulted by the overuse of air freshener in the old building.
This case was absolutely a critical one. She couldn’t argue with that. She understood the cause and loved Kenya and its people. She really did. But the difference between being a lowly junior lawyer in the US and being one in Kenya was that her family was over there. She loved her family, but an entire month under the same roof? She hadn’t lived there since she was eighteen. A whole month under the watchful eye of her overprotective dad, her medical doctor mom...and her brothers.
Chad had made their dad proud by following in his footsteps and joining the marines. Ryan would be headed to college soon and said he wanted to study medicine like Hope. Maddie felt a bit sorry for Philip, Hope and Ben’s only child together, whom Maddie adored. He was only fourteen, and she could tell from his emails that he was feeling the pressure of keeping up with everyone else. As for Maddie, on one level she knew her accomplishments were great. She’d worked hard because she always felt the need to prove herself. Success meant getting out from under her dad’s umbrella. Sometimes his protectiveness and worry came off as critical no matter what she did. And now, he’d get to see firsthand how she was barely getting by as a lawyer, let alone excelling. She’d handled shorter holidays in the past with skillful maneuvering around certain topics of conversation. And those trips had been about kicking back. But a monthlong work trip was enough for everyone to catch on to the fact that she was basically a nobody. And then, heaven forbid, the career advice would start pouring in.
She shifted in her chair and put her hands in her lap, noticing belatedly that she’d left sweaty handprints on her matte laptop cover. Mr. Levy had probably noticed it, too. Could her day get any worse? She wiped her palms against the scratchy tweed of her skirt. The bottom line was that she’d been given her orders. Nine in the morning and she was already spent. She felt like a teenager all over again, getting told what she needed to do with her life. What she needed right now were her sweatpants, slippers and some ice cream.
“I understand, Mr. Levy. I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that to win, you need to have the right person on the case. I’m not putting you on this one just because of your dual citizenship. I want you on this because you finished your undergraduate studies in three years, graduated law school at the top of your class and do everything meticulously—down to the way I’ve seen you water the ficus tree by the break room that everyone else forgets about—and you’re fluent in four languages to boot.”
“Three, sir. I only know a few words in Swahili. I wouldn’t call myself fluent.” She was fluent enough in French and Spanish, though not as comfortable with them as English.
“Well, that’s a few words more than I know. More importantly, you have an understanding of the people and culture. Their needs. The cultural dynamic. We need someone to actually get out in the field. And, yes, you have family who can take you around to gather information, but if you need help with that, let us know. Visit some of the Masai villagers who are being essentially pushed off their land. Find out their views and concerns regarding potential new punishments imposed on them. Get to the heart of it all, but I don’t want emotion—I want solid facts that’ll stand up in court. You have a tendency to think outside the box. I like that about you. Let me put this bluntly—if we win this case, you’ll be number one on our list the next time a promotion opens up.”