Chapter One

She looked tired and worn out. Her hair was tangled, pants torn, blouse disheveled, shoes damaged almost beyond usefulness, and her face was dirty. Coal miner dirty. Her arms were, too. And bloody. At least one of them was quite bloody. She was a mess, half asleep if not half unconscious, and she looked like she needed a hospital, if not a priest.

I knelt down next to her and took her hand, very gently, in mine. Her eyes opened just a crack. “Miss? Miss, do you need help?”

“Aidez moi. S’il vous plaît,” she pleaded. (Help me. Please.)

“Are you OK? Yeah, I know, stupid question. Of course, you’re not OK. Do you speak English?” I asked her.

She looked at me with a questioning look.

“I guess not. Do you need the police? Polizei? Gendarmes?” I asked her.

She shook her head and frowned. “No. Pas police. No.” (Not police.)

“OK, then, I’m going to pick you up, carry you to my car, and take you to the hospital.”

“No. Pas l’hôpital. No.” (Not hospital.)

“You speak some English, then. I guess everyone does to some extent. You understood the police and hospital. That’s a start. Do you even want my help?” Again, with the questioning look, but even then, I knew she needed help. My help? Who knew? She needed help just the same. “Come on. I doubt if I’ll be in jail forever if you decide to turn on me.”

I thought I saw a poorly hidden grin, but it might have been my imagination. I reached under her as carefully as I possibly could and picked her up. She might have weighed more than a bag of concrete but seemed so much lighter than one of those little bags. She was a lot longer than a bag of concrete, that’s for sure. I’ll bet she was five foot four or so, but quite thin. It wasn’t becoming on her, so I doubt it was her normal weight. She was probably starving, as well as in bad shape.

With her face closer to mine, as dirty as she was, tears streaking her face and all, she looked to be about eighteen or so, a bit older than I first thought. Maybe I wouldn’t be in that much trouble after all.

I carried her from the wall she was leaning against over to my rental car in the restaurant parking lot and put her in the passenger seat. As I set her in, I saw a faint smile and heard a soft sigh. Then, lifting her legs in, I got a bit of a moan or groan. The smile was gone. Some pain had caught her, but when her feet were on the floorboards, she seemed to be okay once again.

“Are you going to be all right with me taking you to my hotel? I mean if you can’t talk to me, you don’t want a hospital, or the authorities, I at least need to make sure you are going to be safe and figure out what to do. That seems the best choice, to me. What do you think?”

“Votre hôtel?” I nodded. “Oui, alors. Votre hôtel.” (Yes, then. Your hotel.) She nodded as well.

I knew just enough French, that even with her decidedly un-French accent, she was agreeing with me.

I used my handkerchief to wipe her face a bit, then had her put my overcoat around her, with the collar up, to walk her through the lobby to the elevators. Once on my floor, we approached and entered my room where I immediately ushered her into the bathroom of the suite. One thing that did catch my attention was that she was constantly watching out behind, to the sides, and to every angle in front of her. This girl was afraid of something. She was very, very scared.

Once in the room, though, and upon hearing the deadbolt lock being thrown, she seemed to relax a little bit.

“OK, missy. I want you to stay in there,” I pointed to the bathroom area in general, “And don’t come out until you’re clean. I doubt if you’ll understand me but try anyway. Bathrooms are pretty universal. Go in, get clean, come out. There’s a robe… shit,” I said as I reached around the door, took it down and laid it out on the counter. “Robe. Get clean, put that on and come out.”

“I can do that, sir. Do you think you can ask the desk if they have any toothbrushes and disposable razors? Some of these places can help out with those things.” She said in perfect English, smiling a toothy smile at me. “I desperately need both.”

Her speaking startled me, but I recovered quickly and smiled. “Can’t speak English, huh?”

“Not out there. No way in Hell. Can I get your name, occupation, and citizenship status, please? It’s kind of important to me.”

“Sure. I’ll want the same of you, though.” She smiled and nodded. “Charlie. Charles Cochran. Cochran Equities, Limited. Cochran Enterprises, Incorporated. Cochran Motors, International, yada, yada, yada. American by birth and by choice. You?”

“Mandy. Amanda Birdweiler.”

I must’ve gasped, then stated, absent mindedly, “The ambassador’s girl.” She nodded.

“Surprising?” It was my turn to nod, vehemently. “Yes. That one. Does that pretty much explain my status for you?”

“Yeah. Enough, anyway. I’m a bit worried here, now. What do you want to do at this point? You’ve been declared dead, as has your father. Elizabeth and Robert were both found dead in Cologne a couple of months ago. Obviously, you aren’t. Dead, I mean.”

“No, and my father may not be, either, but he won’t want to surface if he’s still alive. Mr. Cochran…”

I interrupted her. “Just Charlie. Just call me Charlie, for now, Mandy. Now, if you don’t mind, please continue.”

“I don’t know how to say this, but my father is a wonderful father. He was a wonderful husband, at least according to his wives, my mom, and Elizabeth, that is. Hell, even Robert thought he was wonderful as a stepfather. I’m shattered by their deaths, by the way, but I have to continue on, much the same as I had to do when my mother died. In any case, he’s a wonderful family man, but evidently, he’s crooked as a dog’s hind leg. It looks like he’s not the finest American citizen ever produced, and he’s in a lot… A really lot of hot water.”

“Wanna share?”

“Not even a little bit. I love the man to death, and that’s probably how it’ll wind up, with one of us dead, but I’m not going to do anything to hurt myself, or him, but especially myself, in my efforts to stay alive or keep him alive. There are several people who do not want that to happen, even if I tell them what they want to know. Which I wouldn’t do, even if I could. It would lead to my demise, I’m sure. There’s really nothing I can do for him except stay clear. Did that make sense?”

“Yes. You don’t want to die helping your father stay out of trouble or get him killed in the process. You seem calmer than most young ladies might be about this.”

“Charlie, I’m a teenager going on sixty-two. I’ve seen stuff no girl, lady, or woman wants to see, regardless of age. I’ve spent time in countries where no one wants to live and seen how they do it. It’s not a pretty world, regardless of what people might think.”

“What are they after, Mandy, the people looking for you and your father, and can I even hope to protect you? At all?”

“Money. Stolen money. Lots of it. Silence. My father’s. Mine to a degree. He knows things over and above the laptop thing, and you’ve probably heard what’s on there. They think he told us, Elizabeth, Robert, and me, all the grisly details not yet seen, and while I know some of them, I don’t know all that much. If you use your imagination, though, what you may think about the president and his son are probably true.”

“Wow. I don’t think much of him, or them, either of them, anyway, but that kind of puts things in perspective.”

“Me neither. I’ve met them both. The president is in a constant stupor. The first son is a slug. I was fifteen the second time we met, and while I might have been dressed a bit more maturely than was appropriate, or necessary, he knew how old I was and still asked me to go out back and party with him. Drugs and sex. He was pretty explicit about the offer. He’s a wretched individual.

“My father is a closet conservative unless you consider his bad side. His bad side wanted wealth and fortune, regardless of the outcome, save his own family, and even that came around to bite him in the ass. He schmoozed well, though, both to the left and right, and fooled a lot of people in our government, in Italy, Ukraine, Russia, and elsewhere, into a lot of things he shouldn’t have gotten into. In any case, he ripped off the wrong people and now everyone wants him dead. The president, his staff, the local Italian families, their brethren in the states and elsewhere, the Arabs he used to gain seed money for the ventures he scammed… Everyone. The Chinese and the Russians want him for what he knows about the laptop stuff. He was involved in some of the business deals the son was involved in. I don’t know why, other than the boss seemed to think he was assisting them to gain fortune without fame as well. Trust me, Dad isn’t going to show his face anywhere for quite a while. That is, if he’s still alive.”

“Are you trying to get back home?”

“I don’t know yet, Charlie. I can’t go as me, at least not for a while anyway.”

“You’re only what, sixteen?” She shook her head.

“Seventeen, almost eighteen.”

“I have an idea, if you are willing. Just an idea, mind you, but at least I can make you a bit safer.”

“What idea might that be?”

“I know a guy. He helped me help a friend once.”

“Oh, God. ‘I know a guy.’ Your idea sounds as scary as my predicament.”

“That may be true. Have you ever been a Russian hooker?”

She giggled and told me, “No, and I’ve never played one on television. What are you getting at?”

“I helped a friend get a passport for a girl he fell in love with and subsequently married. She was a Russian girl with no papers, and we made her into a Ukrainian college student. They now have two little girls, twins, and are as happy as anyone I’ve ever seen. He fell in love with a prostitute, she fell in love with a john, and I helped them get back to the U.S. Just that simple.”

“And you want to make me out to be a Russian working girl and get me back to the states. What’s in it for you?”

“Ukrainian, not Russian, and nothing. I don’t need anything. You have been rescued by someone who wants nothing from you, or anyone else in the world. I just want to do the right thing. I think keeping you from being killed, whether you were dressed improperly around the Commander in Chief’s evil spawn or not, might be a good thing to do. At least the right thing. I’d rather you didn’t prove me wrong.”

“I’ll try not to, but I’m no wall flower innocent Mary Jane, either.”

“OK, Mandy Birdweiler, I’m going to ask you an honest question. I want an honest answer, OK?” She nodded, sheepishly. “Are you worth saving? Are you worth me putting my ass on the line to get you home safely, or are you going to use me for your own ends and somehow get me drawn into this game and have me wind up dead as one of your pawns?”

“Yes, I am. No, I won’t do that. I am. Worth it. Yes, Charlie, I’m worth saving. I’m not a bad person. I don’t have my father’s thirst for all things material. I want to live. I want an education. I want to be a benefit to myself and society. Yes, I am. If you get hurt, it won’t be because I threw you under the bus or in front of me as they were trying to hurt me. You’re serious about helping me, though? Really?”

“Yeah, I think so. I’ve only been with one Russian hooker, and that was just as an escort for dinner to impress a client. It worked. I gave her enough money for a new dress, as well as enough for a month off the street, got a kiss, and off she went, happier than I was, and I was really happy. Too much information. No matter, she was Russian, and we need to make you Ukrainian, for a few reasons.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“Well, to begin with, I haven’t killed you, raped you, or tortured you for information about your father.”

“Yet.”

“Good point, Mandy. I haven’t done those things, yet. I’ll go downstairs and get you a toothbrush and a razor. I assume you want the razor while you’re still in there… As soon as I get back?”

“That would be nice.”

“OK. I’ll be right back. Do your thing. Don’t lock the door. I won’t do anything to make you think you should’ve.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

I could have continued the banter but chose not to. I left the room and headed down to the desk to see what I could find. Luckily, they had a little set of a toothbrush and toothpaste, and disposable razors for guests that needed them. I gave the clerk a ten spot and asked her to put it in the freebie pot to help the next hapless and forgetful stranger. She laughed at that and thanked me but told me the closest she could do was the local charity the hotel supported. I nodded, and it went into the jar.

Back up in the room, I opened the bathroom door to an escaping bank of steam that almost choked me. Someone was taking a hot shower and trying their utmost to test the capabilities of the building’s boiler. The bathroom exhaust fan was obviously not up to the task.

“Mandy, I have a razor and the toothbrush. Here’s the razor.” I held it in my hand while waving it near the shower curtain.

“Charlie, I may not live long enough to show it, but I love you for this. For getting me the razor, that is. Don’t get too full of yourself. Yet. Now, leave me alone, please. This is the first nice shower I’ve had in well over a month, and I plan on taking advantage of the hot water, and you, and this razor, and the soap, and the towels, and ohhhh, God, this feels so good.”

I left the room, closing the door loud enough for her to hear. I was a bit stunned, still, by what had just transpired, but I regained my senses and made a call to a man I knew in what used to be East Germany.

Herr Mikel Hermann assured me that if I could keep the young lady happy and in one place for a couple of days, we’d be in business. He asked that I take a good picture of her and forward it to him so he could get to work. He also asked me for ten thousand dollars, U.S. American currency, or gold, if it was easier. I was expecting him to ask for the money. I had the gold in my plane, and told him I could come up with it, then jokingly told him to get to work.

He laughed. “Yes, Charles, I will get to work. I will work on making another Ukrainian college girl for you. It is my pleasure, and the pleasure of my friend in Odessa, not to mention it will make several of my car payments.” He laughed heartily at his own statement. “We will make her legal, OK?”

“Thank you, Mikel. I appreciate your help. Just to let you know, this one is for me, not for a friend. I thank you in advance.”

“I would do well for you in either case, but I will add my own feelings of pride in doing well for you, personally. I hope there is no dark background you are hiding this person from.”

“Mikel, you have no idea, but let’s leave it at this. She needs my help. She needs your help. We can help her, so let’s.”

“Good plan, my friend. We shall stay in touch. Do not forget the picture.”

“As soon as possible, Mikel. I’ll get it to you as soon as I can.” We signed off with that. I did need to get the picture, but we had to take care of some other things first.

It was not the first time we’d done business, Mikel and I, but only the second time under the table. He was a good person, and we trusted each other. His equipment was expensive and there was some risk involved, hence the extreme monetary inducement.

She came out of the shower looking like a very clean drowned rat, hair wet and slicked down, barefooted, and way, way too small for the thick terrycloth robe she had wrapped around her.

“Charlie, what kind of person are you? Kind? Stern? All business? Empathetic? Fun loving? Who am I involved with?”

“Definitely the first one and the last two. I’m not a stone, Mandy. I’m a young man enjoying life and what it throws at me. Why do you ask?”

“I want you to brush my hair, but I don’t have a brush. Do you have a comb or something?”

“How about a brush?”

“Really?” she cried out. “That would be so nice. Please?”

I went to the bathroom, hit my shaving kit up for my collapsible hairbrush, then came back out. She was sitting on the ottoman in front of the big chair by the window looking up at me as I approached.

I took in her vision and realized how pretty she was. She was truly gorgeous, if not a bit thin. Young, but polished in her demeanor. She was so much more than a seventeen-year-old girl running from trouble.

“Charlie, do you really think you can get me back to the states? I’ll still need to hide for quite some time, so I guess that might be a problem.”

“Yes. How’s your Ukrainian these days?”

“Rusty. How about we go the Russian route? Their speech is similar to Ukrainian, and only an expert would be able to tell. How many of those do you know?”

“One, and I’m brushing her hair.” Mandy Birdweiler had the most beautiful giggle, and the same with her light blonde hair. “Mikel does Ukrainian. He has friends in places where entire lives can be created. I think they call them ‘backstops’ in the business. We’ll be fine. Just play the part and we’ll be fine.”

“All the companies you mentioned with your name in them indicate you might be able to afford my air fare back. Can I assume as much?”

“You may, but we’ll be in my plane, Mandy. All will be well unless you give too much away. What would you say if I told you I’ve always had a thing for redheads?”

It was her turn to be surprised and gasp out loud. “No! Do you really think I need to do that?”

I nodded.

“Oh, shit. I guess. Sure. Red. No problem. Jesus, then I certainly will look like a…”

“Watch it, lady. I said I have an affinity for red hair. You will most certainly NOT look like a Russian whore just by coloring your hair red. You might even look bett…”

“Now YOU better watch it, buddy. I look fine with blonde locks. Red hair is for fiery women with tempers. That is NOT me.” She turned her head, looking at me with a grin, and said, “Yet.”

I brushed her hair for several minutes before she turned, and with the most serious look in her eyes, asked me, flat out, “Charlie, am I in trouble? Did I get into a situation that I can’t get out of? Are you going to hurt me?” She shivered. Her common sense finally overrode her bravado. She finally realized she wasn’t in charge of her own wellbeing, let alone the world around her and the situation in which she found herself.

“No, little one. Not at all. I’m not the enemy.” I told her, wrapping my arms around her in a gentle hug. I then whispered in her ear, “Yet.” Then I chuckled, got her to laugh, and finished up her hair. “Mandy, you’re fine. You’ll be safe, I think. You’ll be safe from me, anyway. You’re a wonderful person, and a guy like me could fall crazy head over heels for a girl like you. Harm you? No. Won’t happen. I’ll sleep on the couch if you want. You hungry?”

“Charlie, how old are you?”

“Twenty-nine and counting.”

“Counting what. Seriously, how old?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“Yes, I’m famished. Anything will work. Charlie, a forty-five-year-old sheik in Saudi Arabia offered my father six million dollars for me last year. A twenty-nine-year-old American prince would be a much better option in my view, but still, stay on your own side of the bed.” She gave me a bit of a grin.

“If we find your father alive, I might offer him seven,” I said, kind of under my breath, smiling myself.

“He’d probably take it. He didn’t like that guy. He might like you.”

We ate finger foods brought up by room service and watched the end of a movie on the television. She laid down while watching it, having just finished some of the treats and fell asleep in the robe. Good thing, too. Her clothes were beyond use. I figured the best thing would be to order some things in, then take her shopping after we colored her hair. I was thinking a dark strawberry blonde. I looked at her as she slept and wondered what had happened, how this had happened, why it happened to me, or with me being involved, then tried to call it a night.

Sleep came much later. Much, much later. Thoughts that should not have been being thought were rumbling through my head and were knocking the sheep out of the way. I didn’t have a chance. Morning was going to be a dreary, half-awake nightmare. At least the scenery would be wonderful.

She must’ve been really beat and in need of a whole bunch of sleep. I woke first and just looked at her lying there, facing toward me, her hair framing her face, a gentle smile on her lips, and a bit of drool hitting the pillow. How utterly cute. I did that for about ten minutes, just watching her, and thinking more about the situation, then finally got up, showered, and dressed, all the while thankful that she was more dirty and tired than she was injured and close to expiring on me. With less morbid thoughts on my mind, I thumbed through my phone for messages and texts until almost nine-thirty.

When she woke, she caught me staring at her. She smiled to let me know she wasn’t too awfully concerned, then told me, “The look on your face tells me I may not be in over my head. You were smiling. A real smile. A natural one.”

I nodded. “You’re easy to look at, Mandy. Very easy.” She blushed a bit at that comment.

I had her make me a list of what she needed and in what sizes so I could get started for the day and find her something to wear. We shared a large platter of eggs, toast, bacon, sausage, and coffee, as well as some fruit and found a couple of pastries on the cart, both of which SHE ate, then once I felt she was well and happy, to the extent possible, off I went.

There was a mini mall just around the corner where I picked her up some shorts and a blouse, both small, some cute sexy sandals in a size six and a half, a bra, 32B, and some panties, size 2. I also picked her up a bottle of Preference by L’Oréal hair color to get her to a reddish blonde. It would be a drastic departure for her, what with her light blonde shimmering tresses, but if it looked like the picture on the box, she’d be gorgeous. I stopped in a men’s store and got her a couple of large extra-long white cotton t-shirts and two pairs of small green silk boxers. One had little black shamrocks on it.

The look on her face when I showed her the loot was priceless. Naturally, I spared no expense. What good is money, what is it worth, if not used to impress impressionable girls, ladies, and women? It worked. The lingerie was a green lace and satin set. Very nice stuff. It was Maison Close, a French luxury brand. She knew quality when she saw it. The sandals were simple strappy green leather high heels, but she identified them, correctly, as Prada. The shorts and blouse were green as well, a YSL combo that was just too darling for me to pass up. The blouse was three quarter sleeved, but cropped, and the shorts were… Short. Really short. She had the wound on her arm that needed to be covered, but her legs were flawless. Why not expound on that?

“Charlie, it’s all green.”

“You’ll rock green with your new hair, sweetie. Seriously. If it turns out like it’s supposed to, it’s going to be absolutely gorgeous, and you in anything green will look fantabulous.”

“I’m wondering if I made the right decision… Again.”

“You did. I just want to play dress up for a while. If you get tired of it, I’ll stop and let you do what you like. I just think you are a doll and…”

“I get it. I appreciate the help. I appreciate the thought, too. You’ve told me I’m pretty, in one way or another, several times since you found me. Probably more than I’ve heard it in the last year or two. I don’t mind, it’s just a bit… Never mind. I’m old enough to enjoy it.”

“I’m not pushing you into anything, Mandy. I’m not trying to get you to do something you don’t want to do. Not at all. I just want to help. When you are safe, you’ll know it, and act accordingly. Just tell me what you want, when you want it, and we’ll see what we can do. Are we good?”

“Yeah, Charlie. We’re good. I’m sorry. I’m just used to people trying to use me. They used me to get to Dad, to get into the Embassy, to get to second base,” she giggled. “I get it. You don’t need anything from me. It’s me that needs help. You are kind enough to offer it, hence, I need your help. I’ll try to do better in allowing that to happen and be more appreciative. I do appreciate your help, by the way. I really do. I just have doubts about unknowns.”

“And I understand that. I’m an unknown. I get it. I’ll do what I can not to appear threatening and maybe you’ll get used to having me around without the inkling of fear you’re feeling.”

“Maybe you really are a prince. Seven million, huh?”

“A deal at twice the price.”

“Yeah, right. You are so full of shit, Charlie. How about we go shopping tomorrow? I’m not really feeling up to going out yet, but I can get my hair colored today and try to get used to it. Do you mind?”

“Not at all, Mandy. Do you want hotel food again, or should I call out for dinner? We kind of had breakfast for lunch. There is a really nice restaurant across the street. I can get something to bring in, or we can eat off the room service menu.”

“What were you thinking if you got takeout?”

“Chateaubriand for two? With all the fixings?”

“Wine? Nothing dry. Please?”

“As you wish. I don’t like dry or heavy wines either. I’ll surprise you with a couple of them and we’ll go from there,” I offered.

“You do realize that in any civilized society, chateaubriand for two is pushing to be the most romantic meal one can serve.”

“Yes, Mandy, and it’s good eating. Even healthy, for the most part. If you were a young man and you were helping a beautiful young woman in the midst of a life altering problem, would you not treat her as well as possible in the hopes she might not think of you as a troll?”

“Yes, Charlie, I think I might. Have you ever been in love before?”

“Yes, Amanda, I have. Deeply in love. So much so, that when I lost her, I decided that I would never love again. I was engaged to a beautiful woman and lost her. I haven’t ever truly recovered.”

“How long ago, and how did it happen?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Trust me. Please. I’d like to know. I also want to know what color her hair was.”

“Oh, the redhead thing. Her hair was dark brown with tinges of red in it when the sun hit it. It could have been described as deep auburn, but… We met in college. Fell in love. Made promises. I kept mine, and while I was dropping nuts on squirrels over in Southwest Asia, she was busy finding someone other than me to entertain herself. I came home to find a pregnant fiancée. I’d been gone ten months. Math, hopefully, is not too elusive for you?”

She let out a restrained giggle. The math thing touched her funny bone, but the rest sobered her a bit. “No, I get it. Cheaters never win and winners never cheat. She didn’t win and you didn’t cheat. I get it. Now, where do I fit in on all of this?”

“You are a beautiful and hopefully fun diversion from reality. There is no way a girl your age, with your background, and with your problems, is going to try to find a future with a guy like me. Not to mention I’m twelve years older than you.”

“Seven million, huh?”

“Money is not the issue. I could easily pay ten times that but wouldn’t pay anyone a tenth of that in order to have you, or any other woman, come to think of it. You can’t buy feelings, love, honor, faithfulness, compassion, any of that. It can’t be bought. In any case, I’m not actually looking for a companion, long term. If one finds me, so be it, but she’ll have to be very special in order to get my heart. She can get to some of my generosity, some of my fun, some of my affection, but…”

“I get it, already. Once bitten, twice shy. I understand. I’m in no danger of your love machine trying to take over my inner self. Can we be friends?”

“No. Good, God, NO! No friend zoning. Don’t go there. I’d rather be left in limbo than put in the friend zone!” I laughed as if it were a joke, but it truly wasn’t, and I think she understood. “I don’t want to be anyone’s big brother. I’ll find you somewhere safe, somewhere else, besides near me, when I get you home, if that’s what you want.”

“Touchy, touchy. There isn’t anywhere I could go they wouldn’t find me. I’m safer with you and keeping you in limbo than with my mother’s family. Love ‘em to death, but they’re no good to me and would probably be in danger. On the other side of the DNA chain, I think I might be all my father has left. Anyway, don’t get so defensive.”

“I’ll work on it. In the meantime, why don’t you get some rest. Do you need anything while I’m out?”

“No, unless you see a drug store. Triple antibiotic ointment and some large sized band aids wouldn’t be the wrong answer. The toilet paper doesn’t want to stay put, and I don’t want my battle scar here to get infected.”

“Allllrighty, then. I’ll be out for a bit. I’ll get the first aid stuff and our dinner. Eat a little more and take a nap if you can and I’ll wake you when I get back.” I smiled at her, got one in return, and just before I got to the door, I heard her footsteps as she approached me from behind rather quickly. She caught up, threw her arms around me from behind and hugged me.

“Thank you, Charlie. I’ll try to stop being such a little bitch.”

I turned in her arms and put mine around her. She seemed to shiver a bit. “Mandy, you’re fine. This is a strange situation. Just be yourself and we’ll deal with the fallout.” I felt her melt a bit in my arms, so I kissed her on top of her head and walked her back to bed. She climbed up, I covered her and kissed her forehead. “Back in a bit, sweetheart. Please try to sleep. You have to still be exhausted.” She nodded. I patted her hip and left. I heard her sigh, then start to cry as I left. I didn’t turn around. I had to stay strong for the both of us. For God’s sake, she was only seventeen.

Chapter Two

I stopped at the restaurant across the street and explained the situation. They said they’d have a nice dinner ready for us in about three hours, but insisted they bring it to the room, so it was ready to eat when it arrived. Seems they do this all the time, much like pizza delivery.

I asked the head about a drug store and got simple instructions for a place just a few blocks away. Living downtown might have its advantages, but I wouldn’t be able to handle it for long. Convenience doesn’t trump peace and quiet. Never will.

On the way back to the room, since I still had a couple of hours to blow, I stopped at a coffee shop and made some calls. It was still early back home, but I don’t think I upset anyone too badly.

My first was to a lawyer friend of mine. I asked him what happens when someone is declared deceased but isn’t. He explained the process of reclaiming one’s life, if there was anything left to claim, and how they would just keep on pressing on. Then he asked why.

“Roger, it was just a hypothetical. For now. I had a nightmare and just needed some follow-up so I could get some sleep tomorrow. I may need your help when I get home, though. Just keep it between us and we’ll be fine.”

“Charlie, remember the Denver-Las Vegas game? You put ten on the winner, right?”

“I don’t remember…”

“Let me start again. You bet on the winner. I bet on the loser. I owe you ten dollars. Say ‘Yes, Roger’.”

“Yes, Roger.” I started laughing when I realized what he was doing.

“I have that very ten dollars in my hand and I am now under a retainer for the discussion we just had. Deal with it and don’t talk to anyone but me and your nightmare about your nightmare until you get home. Don’t let it get ahead of you. I know you well enough to know there is something going on and you can’t talk about it yet. We’ll talk later. You’re still in Paris, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Roger. You’re pretty smart, I mean, for a lawyer.”

That time HE started laughing. “Asshole. Call me on the way home. I gotta get to work. Bye.” Click.

I sat there shaking my head and wondering how I could be so transparent, but then I realized I had telegraphed my situation. Anyone that knew me very well and had half a brain would have figured it out. That would be Roger, in a nutshell.

My next call was to the office. All was well back home and the edits to the contract we were working on with the automaker here were done, approved, in the system, and on the way back to them here in Paris for signatures. They’d let me know when the deal was sealed.

I just sat there for a while, pondering the situation. Apart from a couple of close calls flying, this was possibly the most exciting thing I’d ever been involved with. It would be fun to try to help the girl out and possibly get her to safety and keep her safe until we could put all of the obvious problems behind her. I didn’t really even know if that was possible, considering, but there had to be a chance. Some way must exist. We’d just need to find it.

I left the shop, carrying a little cup holder box with some hot chocolate for her, and another coffee for me. One thing I have found here was they have some pretty good coffee in some of the little coffee shops.

I entered the room quietly so I wouldn’t wake Mandy. She was still asleep, and we had at least an hour to wait until dinner was delivered. I sat and drank my coffee, just watching her. She had a bit more color than she did last night, but she was probably still quite a ways from being all the way back to normal, if she even had one. A normal, that is. I turned the TV on, volume way down, and switched to Fox News, about the only thing I could find in English. I wasn’t going to bother learning each of the languages of the countries I travelled to. I’d never keep up. I had translators on call for that. After a half hour or so of nothing but bad news about everything I heard a rustle in the bed.

“Charlie, I had a dream.”

“Pray tell, sweetie.”

“I had red hair and a horse. That’s all I remember.”

“That’s a lot to work with. Do you like horses?”

“To ride? Yes. To own and care for? I have no idea. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You seem not to like the idea of red hair, and I just wanted to get your take on horses.”

She giggled. “You are a pig,” she said, laughing.

“Yes, dumpling, but I am a pig with horses. I think your dream might be telling you something.”

“It’s telling me I’m being thought of as a fattening food, sometimes served with chicken. What next? A sweet substance found in beehives? Charlie, if my dream is telling me I’m going to have red hair and be around horses and you have horses and like red hair, I’m where I need to be. I need a favor.”

“What, honey?”

“There he goes with the sweet substance and bees reference.” She started laughing. “I need you to help me color my hair. My arm is still bothering me a bit.”

“No problems at all, sweetie. I’ll help you with that right after dinner. They’re bringing it over in about thirty minutes.”

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