Chapter XVIII

Back on U.S. Soil, Kinda

He could glare all he wanted, I didn't care, I wasn't a Marine. I had enough adrenaline rush the past few days to last me a lifetime. I took a look at his name tag. "I demand to see the ambassador, Marine Collier."

For a few seconds he looked like he was ready to throw me back into the street. He kept my passports as he picked up my backpack, purse and flight bag. "Follow me."

He led me inside, down a long corridor, and to a big room with a steel door. "Wait here. The ambassador is busy. It will be awhile."

He walked out with my things. I heard the steel door clang shut with a finality. Checking the door confirmed my suspicions. I was right, it was locked. Exploring the room was a good way to use up time while I waited. The room had no windows, lots of shelves and books, and plush carpet. It was complimented with big, soft, overstuffed, soft blue chairs, and matching divan, A small bar and refrigerator sat back in a small alcove. When I looked back in the alcove I saw a second door. I gave it a try. It opened up into a three quarter bathroom. I figured I was in a cell. One without bars and windows but a cell never the less. Did they figure I was dangerous or were they protecting me?

An hour passed and then another as I paced the room and examined everything for a forth and fifth time. I finally gave up and laid down on the couch. Someone was shaking me.

"Miss McDonald, the ambassador will see you now. If you will follow me please."

I opened my eyes and was looking at another Marine. "I'm sorry, I must have fallen asleep."

He nodded. "That's quite alright. Please follow me if you don't mind."

Holding the door, he was pointing the way out. "Down the hall to your right and up the stairs, please."

I did as he told me and could hear his footsteps right behind. At the top of the stairs was a door. Opening it led me into a large, spacious, hallway. The Marine stepped up beside me. He pointed toward a huge open door off to my left. "In there please Miss McDonald. The ambassador is waiting."

I walked across the hall into a room larger than the house I grew up in. Across the room was floor to ceiling windows and glass doors. Forty feet across the room to my right was a man behind a desk.

He rose out of his chair. "Please come in Miss McDonald. I'm Ambassador Harold Ford. I've heard all about you. It's good to see you are still alive and in one piece. Now, what can I do for you? I understand you have some information for us?"

It was a long way over to where Harold was standing. I was talking before I got there. "Yes, sir, I do. I was handed something I was supposed to give to you but your Marine at the front gate kept all my things so I don't have it any more."

Leaning down, he picked up a handful of things off the floor and set them on the corner of his desk. "I have all your belongings right here, Miss McDonald. You may have all of them back. Marine Collier was only making sure you weren't bringing in any guns, explosives, or any other contraband that seems to be the norm nowadays."

I was beside his desk looking at my things to see if it was still there. The camera was missing. "I'm sorry, but this isn't all of my gear. I seem to be short one camera."

Harold held up his hand. The Marine who had escorted me stepped up and set my camera down on the desk. Harold was watching me closely. "Is this what you were missing?"

I glanced down at it. "You already found it, didn't you?"

I thought I saw a hint of a smile. "Very good Miss McDonald. But, I wanted to see if you would tell us about it so we put it back exactly like we found it."

Picking up the camera, I opened up the back and pulled the thirty five millimeter film out of it. I handed it to Harold. "The man who gave me this said it was pictures of drug dealers, military, and a few others swapping information about some military secrets. He told me to deliver it to one of our ambassadors and no one else unless I happened to make it back to the states. If I made it back then I was to give it to our government. He wasn't specific so I guess anyone in government would have worked."

Harold was searching for something the way he was looking at me. He glanced down at the film I had placed in his hand. "No, not everyone in government would have been okay. What you handed me is highly classified information. It could very well be the political problem of the century."

He smiled. "I'm sure you're not interested in these matters. Let's talk about things closer to home, shall we?"

Walking over to a large overstuffed chair, he motioned for me to have a seat in one just like it. "Please, have a chair, Miss McDonald."

It only took a second before I decided it didn't make any difference. "Thank you, Harold. May I call you Harold or is there a more formal title I need to use?"

He waved his hand in the air. "Harold is fine."

"Please call me, Jake." I parked in the chair beside him.

"Jake?" His eyes widened to two egg whites before his surprise settled down.

"Yes, now what down home things were you going to discuss?"

"Miss…, Jake, there is a bench warrant out for your arrest back in Montana."

"Big deal. I'm not in the United States so it doesn't mean anything." I wondered why he was telling me this?

"Miss McDonald, when you walked through those front gates you walked back onto American soil. I would be legally correct if I had one of the Marines place you under arrest until such time as you were shipped back to the States." He was watching me to see how I was going to take his speech.

It didn't matter. I would rather go home to a trial then be kidnapped in a foreign country. I shrugged my shoulders. I didn't care.

I guess he could see I didn't care. "It is only a bench warrant. We don't pay any attention to such things. May I ask what your plans are?"

"Well, I'm supposed to be shipping horses. Mr. Pladure messed up my schedule when he insisted I be his guest. I would like to contact Leonard LeBo back in Atlanta and see if I still have a job. Leonard is the only contact I have right at the moment unless I get to talk to Bill Randall. I'm supposed to be working for a man by the name of Kevin Dalder but that's the only names I have. I don't know a whole lot about the man."

"Kevin Dalder is his name. His company is Golden Horse Transports. You flew one of his horses from Valley Downs Farms to Simon Pladure in Brazil. I can't tell you where you went from there Miss McDonald. You had everyone on this end of the world looking for you. Our state department gets real excited when America's All Around Cowboy is kidnapped." Harold leaned back in his chair and relaxed.

Holding the film packet in his right hand he was studying it. "I can put you in touch with anyone you wish to talk to Miss McDonald. Would you like to call your parents and tell them you are okay? You have been in most of the papers back in the states."

Even though Leo had told me about the papers I thought it was local. That shocked me. "WHAT! Why? What did I do? Why would they put me in the papers?"

He slowly rose out of his chair before he answered. "It's not everyday we loose our All Around Cowboy, Miss McDonald."

He pointed toward the phone on the desk as he started out of the room with the Marine in tow. "The names and numbers are on the pad by the phone. If you have any trouble dial three and our secretary will dial out for you. Talk as long as you like. Be sure and let your parents know you are safe. I imagine they are worried sick about you. I would be if I were them. I'll have someone stop by their house later and talk to them."

He stopped before he stepped out of the room, turned around and stared at me for a few seconds. "Katherine and John McDonald have a very interesting daughter…, Jake."

He turned to leave, hesitated and then looked back over his shoulder. "Uh, Jake, stay away from the windows. We live in the wrong part of the world to be standing in front of any open doors or windows."

Harold and the Marine walked out of the room.

The pad by the phone had the phone numbers of mom and dad, Bill Randall, Leonard, and Kevin. Did these people know all the people I had associated with? I picked up the phone and dialed home.

The phone rang and rang and rang before I decided mom and dad were either out doing chores or had to run some errands. I was wishing I was with them as I hung up and dialed Leonard.

"Valley Downs Farms, here." Was a voice I didn't recognize coming from the other half of the world.

"May I speak to Leonard LeBo, please?"

"Hold on, he's coming." The strange voice answered me.

"Yeah!" Was the abrupt voice I recognized on the other end.

"Leonard, this is Jake. I missed my flight out of Brazil and need some new instructions."

"CAT! MY GOD! WHERE ARE YOU!"

I moved the phone away from my ear. I was sure I was going to be deaf in that ear after this. "I'm at the American Embassy in Peru. I'm fine. Things got a little exciting for a few days. Everything is back to normal now. I need airfare out of here or a ride back to the states. I don't have any money and I don't have a ride."

"No, you can't come back here. There's a warrant out for your arrest. You made the papers several times these past few days. Seems as if you were awarded the title of All Around Cowboy. That picked up back page news being as you are a cowgirl rather than a cowboy. Then the next day you made front page news along with a rerun of the All Around Cowboy story as Judge Garrison issued a bench warrant for your arrest. If you hadn't already been nominated as the All Around Cowboy neither story would have ever made it past the back page, if at all. However, bad news feeds off good news so you became an instant celebrity of sorts. All the television stations picked it up."

"I believe your fame would have died a quiet death on the six o'clock news if you hadn't been kidnapped in Brazil. You have been splashed all over the papers and TV for the past three days."

I swallowed as I tried to visualize what Leo was telling me. "Maybe now I'm safe it will all go away again?"

"Don't count on it. Do you remember posing for some advertising agency?"

What was Leo leading me into? "It was a mistake Leonard. I didn’t really pose for them. I thought it was for passport pictures."

"They have really been running the heck out of all your ads. Trying to get all the mileage they can out of them. I can't turn on a TV, listen to a radio, or pick up a paper you don't jump out at me in one form or another."

"I wonder what the Rodeo Association thinks of me now? They probably want the award back." I was thinking aloud over the phone.

"I wouldn't count on it Cat. They are picking up a lot of free publicity over this too. I bet the whole bunch is giving themselves a high five for nominating you. Oh, they will shake their heads and say the appropriate no no's publicly. Silently they are counting the dollars this will bring their way. You can bet attendance at all the rodeos is going to be up this year."

Silently I was wondering how I ever got into this mess as my phone spoke to me again. "Cat?"

"Yes?"

"The advertising spread you did with the Ford car? You look fabulous. Your friend with the advertising agency, Linda? She called and told me they want to sign an exclusive contract with you. Those pictures you made were for the local dealers. Now it seems Ford Motor Company is interested in running some pictures too for a national spread. Not sure how much is gossip. I heard they offered a million dollars to the National Rodeo Association for an exclusive on you.”

“The pictures Linda was taking after you changed out of a dress into jeans? There are several companies vying for sponsorship including Dan’s Race Horse Feed. Linda said she couldn’t release them until you signed off on them. She said they weren’t part of the original release contract. Those she took while you were busy with Heater came out in a little local weekly. Linda said some national magazine wants the originals. They are going to run an article about the all around cowboy. Linda showed me something called a board. She said it is the story before it becomes a story. It was the picture of you taking Heater down. The title was something like, 'Why Jake is number one'. Also, I heard rumors of you being the next nationals rodeo queen. You are the person everyone is talking about out here at the stables. Everyone is bragging about meeting you Cat."

Silently I groaned as Leo kept going.

“I also heard there is all hell breaking loose in your hometown. Those two lawyers representing you are suing everyone. This is all hearsay but Linda has been in touch with Bill Randall. She’s up there to get his side of the story. She has been feeding stories to the national press. I understand those lawyers hired by the Cowboy Association have been busy. They filed against the school. Called for disbarment against a district attorney because he has failed to file against the six kids who assaulted you. They filled against the sheriff to disclose everything he has. They filed against the kids and their parents, and god knows who else. They are pulling everyone in and taking depositions from all the kids in your class and all the teachers. One of our legal beagles told me it was a warning salvo fired across the bow of everyone who thought they were going to be spectators in your legal problems. He said most of those suits would be dropped but it sure got everyone’s attention. That includes national attention. The tabloids are picking it up.”

"Oh swell!" I was about to cry. All I was supposed to do was transport a few horses this year. How could things get so out of kilter in such a short time?

I was tired of hearing all the home gossip. "Leonard, I didn't get mom and dad. Call them later and tell them I'm okay. Would you? Be sure and tell them to let Gunshy know I'm okay. I'll call later if I get a chance but I don't know what I am going to be doing or where I'll be. What about money and plane ticket?"

"Cat, I said, you can't come this direction. I'll call Larry Mavis and have him get in touch with your transporter Kevin Dalder. This is going to take some time so stay put. You have a number I can call you back at?"

"Yes, call the international operator in Peru and have her connect you with the American Embassy." I heard a click and was listening to a dead phone.

I called the number Harold had on the pad for Kevin Dalder and received an answering service. I told them who I was, where I was at, and I needed some new instructions. They promised to give him the message.

I hung up and the tears started. I wasn't really crying, I was feeling sorry for myself. I couldn't go home, I didn't have any money, I had no place to stay, I had no idea how I was going to get back home again or if I ever was. I had no idea how long a bench warrant could be in effect. I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand and absentmindedly ambled over toward the windows to look outside.

Someone caught me before I walked half way across the room. "Please stay away from the windows Miss McDonald."

Turning around I was looking at the Marine. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I guess I better be going."

"Where you going?" He had stepped back when I turned around to face him.

"I don't know. I have no place to go." The tears started again.

I wiped them off but others were following along behind. "I'm sorry. I'm not crying. My eyes are watering."

"But of course." He put his arm around me and escorted me from the room.

Pointing down the hall to the right, he walked along with me, his arm around my waist. "The ambassador asked if you would please stay and be his guest for a few days. He said he wouldn't take no for an answer."

I started to protest. "But…,"

"No buts, Miss McDonald. This is the best motel in town. You need a place to stay, Ambassador Ford feels a need to handle this diplomatically. He wants to show the world you are safe in the embassy. He has already called for a party for tomorrow night. Important guests will be here along with what will seem like all the reporters in the world."

He laughed as he stopped and opened a huge door. "Of course they won't all be here but it will seem that way."

Pointing toward the room he stepped to the side. "Your suite, Miss McDonald."

After thanking the Marine, I walked into a room as big as our living room back home. I heard running water and started toward the door over on the left side of the room. An attractive lady with black eyes and long, jet black hair walked out. "Your bath is run Miss McDonald."

She nodded toward a telephone beside a big easy chair. "Please call when you are finished. I will find some clothes for you. Say you are ready and they will notify me."

She handed me what looked like a wine bottle. "Pour this into your bath water and take a long time soaking. It will change you back into a white girl again."

"Thanks. What is it?" I had forgot about dying myself brown with Mike's tonic. After a couple days, I was getting used to it. I didn't know what else to say. Besides, I had experience with green walnuts. I honestly didn't think anything could take the stain out of the skin. I figured it would have to wear off.

"It's a little of this and a little of that, basically same thing we put in our swimming pool. Pour it in your bath water and don't get it in your eyes." She smiled before she turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

A couple hours soaking in that big tub made me feel almost human again. I had also shed most of the 'poor me' feelings. I still had no idea how I was going to get home but all that was shoved to the side.

The lady reappeared while I was still in the tub. "If you want, I can change your hair back to blond, or red, or brunette, or we can leave it black the way it is now? What do you want to do?"

I hadn't really thought about it. "I don't care one way or another. But it isn't true, you know."

She was studying me trying to figure out what wasn't true. "What?"

"Blondes really don't have more fun, nor are we stupid. I don't care what we do with my hair. The only thing I'm definitely against is turning it green or orange because we mixed something that wasn't supposed to happen. Some of the girls in my school did that. Neither one of those colors does a whole lot for me."

She laughed. "Let's change it back to blond then. It is what the press will be expecting tomorrow evening when you step out. Black really isn't your color now."

“Works for me. I guess I’m no longer a chicharro.”

She blinked as she focused in on me. “Chicharro?”

“Un huh, it is what Mike called me. That’s a brown boy.”

A smile spread across her face as she giggled. “No hon, chicharro is a cricket or grasshopper.”

“He was calling me a cricket? Wait till I see him again. He’s in so much trouble. By the way, what's your name? I should know the name of the lady who is so kind?"