Savior Ch 02

Hanna

"Are you telling me the state wishes to drop all charges against Ms. Ellerbe?" the judged intoned, looking over his half-glasses at the prosecutor.

"Yes, your Honor," the prosecuting attorney said. "Further, we would like to have Ms. Ellerbe's arrest record expunged with a certificate of actual innocence."

"Care to inform me why you were wasting the court's time, then?"

"Yes, your Honor. Several credible witnesses have come forward who place Ms. Ellerbe elsewhere during the time of the crime."

The judged looked at the prosecution, clearly annoyed about something. "Perhaps the next time the District Attorney's office should investigate

before

bringing charges."

"Yes, your Honor," the woman said, unable to meet the judge's eyes.

"I expect the paperwork for the expungement to be ready for my signature and on my desk by lunch tomorrow."

"Yes, your honor."

The judge then turned his attention to me. "Ms. Ellerbe, you're free to go."

"Thank you, your honor," I said respectfully, but inside I was leaping for joy. I maintained my dignity until we were outside the courtroom before I turned to my attorney and pulled her into a hug. "Thank you," I whispered. "Thank you so much."

"They should have never pressed charges in the first place," she said as I pulled out of her arms.

"We should sue the Eugene police for false arrest," Dad, growled.

"Daddy, I just want to go home," I said, desperate to put the whole thing behind me. Janice Rice, a pudgy, greying, no-nonsense woman of about sixty, had gotten the DA to request my arrest expungement with the certificate of actual innocence by threatening a false arrest suit, and that was enough for me. "Thank you, again," I said shaking the lawyer's hand.

"You're welcome."

I didn't have much before my brush with the law, and now I had even less. Mom and Dad had posted my bond when I was arrested, but I wasn't sure how I was going to pay my lawyer fees and court costs. Mom and Dad had fronted me the money to hire Janice, and they'd probably offer to pay my expenses, but with Dad working as an assistant store manager at NAPA, and Mom teaching second grade at Crooked River Elementary School, they weren't exactly rolling in cash themselves.

I stepped out of the courthouse and smiled to myself. After five weeks, finally being free of my ordeal made the sun just that little bit brighter, the sky a smidge bluer, and the air slightly sweeter. It was a perfect spring day, the sun was shining, and I'd worry about paying my lawyer fees tomorrow. Now that I was sure I wasn't going to do five to ten for robbery, maybe I could begin to get on with my life, start over, and maybe build something for myself and Garrett.

As we began the three-hour drive home to Prineville, Dad and I spoke little. I knew he was disappointed with me. I was disappointed with myself. Twenty-six years old, dead broke with no job, a kid, and going through a nasty divorce, I knew I was going to have it rough for a while. I didn't like Garrett and me having to live with Mom and Dad, but Prineville wasn't Eugene. With no highly desired skills, finding a job was proving difficult. After my arrest it had been even harder. Tomorrow I'd start hitting the streets again, and now, because of the expungement, I could legitimately say I'd never been arrested. In Eugene, I'd worked my way up to CSM—Customer Service Manager—at a Safeway, so surely I could find something in Prineville and begin working my way up again. I'd gotten away from Carl, beaten the robbery charge, and I knew I could beat this too. I was due a break, and when it came, I was going to do whatever it took make something of my life... for myself and for Garrett.

We were about halfway home when Dad's phone began to ring. He picked it up from the console, glanced at it, and then handed it to me. I was surprised to see Lizzie on the display. I'd just spoken to Mom ninety minutes earlier to tell her the good news as we pulled out the courthouse parking lot. I tapped the answer button and then placed it on speaker so Dad could hear.

"Mom?"

"They took him!" she sobbed. "I tried to stop them, but they took him!"

"Mom? Mom, what's wrong?" I asked as Mom continued to sob. "What are you talking about? Who took who?"

"The men! They were waiting for us when I got home with Garrett, and they took him!"

I felt faint and unable to breathe as Mom sobbed again. "Who did? Mom! Who took Garrett?"

"I don't know! Three men took him! I couldn't stop them!"

I tried to wrap my mind around what Mom was telling me... and failed. There had to be some mistake. Maybe I was misunderstanding what she was saying. Maybe she was telling me this to punish me for marrying Carl, getting pregnant, and then getting arrested. Maybe she was having a stroke and was confused. Maybe... maybe... maybe...

"Did you call the police?" I asked, gipping the phone so tightly my fingers hurt. My voice was soft, almost calm, but only because I couldn't draw a breath.

"Yes!"

The Chevy's engine whooped as Dad matted the throttle. I whimpered as the Silverado downshifted, the engine straining as the speedometer crept past one hundred and kept climbing. He'd been listening. I wasn't confused... and neither was Mom. The sudden roar of the engine snapped me out of the fog.

"Hang on, Mom! We're coming!"

-oOo-

Dad shattered every speed limit the rest of the drive from Eugene, and we arrived home barely an hour after I'd hung up the phone. The truck hadn't finished skidding to a stop before I was out and running across the yard, dodging around my Bug, Mom's Explorer, and the Prineville police cruiser sitting in the drive.

Mom began to sob as I burst through the door, Dad only steps behind me. She hugged me with rib straining strength as she sobbed before releasing me and falling into Dad's arms. Her mouth was swollen, her left eye was turning dark, and she had a butterfly bandage on her left cheekbone.

"I couldn't stop them," she wailed. "I tried, but I couldn't stop them! They were waiting for us when we got out of the car!"

The officer allowed the family a moment, before interrupting. "Are you the child's mother?" he asked.

I stepped away from Mom and Dad as I sniffed and wiped my eyes, trying to dry my tears. "Yes."

"Any idea who may have done this?" the man, officer Choral according to his name tag, asked. Choral didn't appear to be much older than me, and sported dark hair cut so short it was little more than a shadow on his head.

"Carl Ellerbe. Carlton Garrett Ellerbe."

Choral nodded once but didn't write anything down. "He's the boy's father?"

"Yes," I growled, fighting the almost overpowering urge to weep and scream.

"Your mother said you two are separated?"

"Yes," I snarled. I felt like I was burning, only moments from spontaneous combustion.

"Any reason why he'd want to kidnap Garrett?"

I couldn't hold it in anymore. "Because he's a fucking

asshole

!" I screamed so loudly my throat burned.

Officer Choral took a quick step back, obviously surprised by my outburst, and I wanted to punch him for his indifference. Carl had stolen Garrett, and this asshole was standing in Mom and Dad's living room asking stupid questions instead of out there finding my son!

"Ms. Ellerbe, I know you're upset, but—" Choral began.

"Upset?" I raged. "Of course I'm upset! My son has been kidnapped, and you're standing around asking dumb-ass questions instead of doing something! My mom must have told you all this already!"

Choral's face hardened. "Ms. Ellerbe. I have to get this information before I

can

do anything. The sooner you calm down, and help me do my job, the sooner we can get your son back."

I glared at him so hard I was surprised he didn't burst into flame. "What do you want to know?" I snarled, my voice low and dangerous.

"Why do you believe Mr. Ellerbe would kidnap your son?"

"Because he didn't get what he wanted," I answered as I ground my teeth.

"What's that, Ms. Ellerbe?"

"Me... in jail."

The officer frowned as he held my gaze. "Care to explain?"

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to not lash out at the man again before I slowly opened them and held his gaze. "I've petitioned the court for sole custody of Garrett. He, Carl, set me up to go to jail, but it didn't work. He knows I'll likely win full custody, so when the prosecution dropped the case, I guess he decided to try something more direct," I said, my voice as cold and cutting as an artic wind.

"You have any proof of this?"

"Of course not, but that doesn't mean it isn't true. Do you think it's a coincidence that I'm arrested right after I slap him with a no contact order, or how Garrett is taken right after my case is dismissed?"

"Does your mother know Mr. Ellerbe?"

"Yes, why?"

"She said she didn't recognize any of the men who assaulted her and took your son."

"Do you think Carl would be stupid enough to do it himself? I'm sure he was somewhere with plenty of people around, but I know it was him."

"How?"

"I just do. He waited until I was in Eugene because he knew if I was here, I might recognize one of the goons that took my son. He's an asshole, but he's not stupid."

The cop scribbled on his notepad. "Any idea where we can find Mr. Ellerbe? Does he live here in Prineville?"

"Eugene. Try the Orcas Motorcycle Club clubhouse, on..." I paused as I tried to remember the address. "I can't remember the address, but I bet the Eugene police department can tell you."

"Your mother gave us a picture of Garrett. Do you have a picture of Carl?"

"Yes. I just moved back home. I'll have to dig through my stuff to find it."

"If you have one, that will be helpful."

"I'll find one."

"When you do, bring it to the station and ask for Officer Choral," he said as he handed me one of his cards. "Anything else you can tell us?"

"No. How long do you think before you find Garrett? He's only five."

"There's no way to know, but we'll do everything possible. We'll also alert the Eugene PD. I'm sure they'll send someone to check out the Orcas clubhouse. Is there any reason to suspect Mr. Ellerbe will harm the child?"

"No, probably not intentionally, but he's not a very good father. That's why I want sole custody."

"Yes, ma'am I understand. We'll do everything we can to get Garrett back to you safe and sound."

"Anything else?" I asked, wanting to finish answering his questions as soon as possible so the police would start doing something.

Choral snapped his notebook closed. "No. I think that's all I need. I know it's tough right now. I've got a daughter only a couple of years older than your son, so I can guess what you must be feeling, but the Prineville PD will do everything we can to get your son back to you as soon as possible."

"Thank you," I whimpered as I fought, and lost, to my tears.

-oOo-

After Officer Choral left, while Dad comforted Mom, I spent twenty minutes digging through the boxes piled in the garage until I found the one containing the photo I was looking for. When dad had helped me move out, we'd done it as fast as possible, throwing stuff into boxes and totes haphazardly in our rush to get me packed and out of the apartment while Carl was in jail. The boxes had remained in Mom and Dad's one-car garage, where we'd piled them after my return, since.

It was the last family photo taken we'd taken together, when Garrett was three. I'd kept the photo because it was my favorite picture of Garrett, my chubby little boy laughing at the camera as if having his photo taken was the funniest thing in the world. I pulled the photograph from the frame, set it aside on another box, and then dumped everything else back into the large cardboard container that once held bananas. I picked the photo up and stared at it for a long moment.

I'd smiled for the camera, but I hadn't been happy. Three months prior, I'd caught Carl having an affair. He'd been totally unrepentant, claiming that was the lifestyle, and I'd just have to get used to it. Of course, the moment I suggested taking a lover for myself, that was an entirely different matter. He'd forbade it, claiming I was his old lady and he'd kill me and the first person who touched me.

That was the beginning of the end for us. I'd already become disillusioned with my marriage. Despite what I said about taking a lover, I didn't want to cheat, I wanted out. Our marriage had started to deteriorate two years earlier when Carl began spending more and more nights at the club house, leaving me home with Garrett. The understanding our marriage was truly over came when I realized I looked forward to the nights he wasn't home.

Mom and Dad had tried to warn me, but being nineteen, I thought I knew everything. Carl was five years older than me, and he'd been so handsome and charming, and being a member on the rise in the Orcas Motorcycle Club, he'd promised me great things. Even before his affair, I'd figured out he was nothing but a braggart and a blowhard, and most of the things he claimed he'd accomplished he'd only been involved with on the periphery, if at all. He'd promised me a good life, but time after time his big scores never materialized, and I'd been the one supporting us.

Working full time to support his lazy ass while taking care of Garrett had left me bitter and angry. After more than five years of disappointment, I'd had enough, put my foot down, and gave him an ultimatum. Either find a job, a real job, to help support our family, or I was filing for divorce. That's when the beatings started. The final straw had come when I'd arrived home from work to discover a woman I'd never seen before sleeping on the couch while Garrett played with his toy motorcycles.

Finding Carl had left a club girl watching Garrett while he was off with the club caused me to fly into a rage, and I threw the woman out. When Carl arrived home, I was packing. That was when he'd delivered the worst beating of all, but I was resolved. I called the cops, reported the abuse, and Carl spent a night in jail before the Orcas could bail him out.

Before the cops arrived, Carl had smashed my phone in a rage, but as he was hauled away in the back of police cruiser, I'd used a neighbor's phone, called Dad, and begged for help. The moment I hung up with Dad, I took Garrett with me to the store where I worked. There, I told Karen, the store manager I was quitting, and why, before I stuffed my VW with as many boxes as I could fit. I was still throwing shit into the boxes when Dad had knocked on our apartment door.

I touched the picture, running my fingers over Garrett's smiling face. He was the only good thing to come out of that miserable marriage. With a sniff, I wiped my eyes and rose to my feet. There was no way in

hell

Carl was going to get Garrett, not while I drew a breath.

"I'm going to deliver this to officer Choral," I said, fanning the photo as I stepped back into the kitchen.

Mom came to me, pulling me into an embrace. "I'm so, so, sorry."

Mom and Dad were in their mid-fifties and were softening with age. Mom was greying, and Dad was losing his hair, and both had put on some pounds over the years, and though I'd once thought they were the most boring people in the world, I'd never doubted their love, especially after Keith, my older brother, had died in service to his country in Iraq.

I held her, my mouth hard. I was done crying, at least for now. Now I was going to fuck Carl like he'd never been fucked before. "It's not your fault," I said softly, holding her tight. "There was nothing you could have done."

"If Carl shows his face around here, I'll kill him," Dad said, his eyes hard.

"Good," I snapped.

I wasn't sure Dad actually meant it, but I was done apologizing and making excuses for Carl. I'd made a mistake by not listening to Mom and Dad when they'd warned me about him, and then I'd spent the next six years defending him, but no more. He'd crossed the line when he beat me, then he'd earned my wrath when he'd tried to have me jailed on trumped up charges, but now... now I'd kill him without remorse for taking Garrett if I got the chance.

"Do you need a ride?" he asked.

"No. Stay here with Mom. I'll be back in a bit."

I gathered my purse and walked out to my 1972 Volkswagen Beetle. I plopped into the car and turned the key. It spun over willingly enough, trying to start as it coughed and sputtered before dying. Gritting my teeth, I kept trying, stomping away on the gas pedal as the car cranked until it finally roared to life in a cloud of blue smoke. Carl could ride around on a new, twenty-thousand-dollar Harley Softail Deluxe, a motorcycle I'd been paying for, but I was struck driving a thousand-dollar car, with almost two hundred thousand miles, that would barely run.

In fact, the car hadn't run when I bought it, but it was a car that had belonged to someone Dad knew and the owner had sold it to me for cheap. I'd paid five hundred dollars for it and then spent another couple hundred for parts so Dad could get it running for me. I'd thought it was good enough for my first car, thinking Carl would buy me a new or better one once we were married, but six years later, I was still driving it, and it was slowly dying. I banged the car into reverse with a crunch and then backed out of the drive, keeping one foot on the gas so it wouldn't die, and the other on the brake.

Prineville had a population of ten thousand or so and was notable only for the Facebook Data Center located there. It didn't take me long to arrive at the police station, and I pulled into the first visitor parking spot I found.

Grabbing the photo and my purse, I walked into the police station. The reception area was tiny, perhaps eight feet wide and maybe twenty long, with floor to ceiling windows forming two walls. There were no chairs, no furniture of any kind in the room, with only a door and a small window to keep the dusty plastic plant company. I approached the thick window behind which a bored looking woman wearing a headset and a police uniform waited.

"May I help you?" the woman asked, her voice tinny and slightly distorted by the small speaker set below the window.

"Officer Choral, please."

"He's on patrol."

"He asked me to bring this to him as soon as possible," I said, holding up the photo for the woman to see.

She held my gaze for a moment then spoke into her headset, though I couldn't hear her words. "He's not on a call, so he should be here in a few minutes if you want to wait."

I nodded. "I'll wait."

With no place to sit, I paced, making loops around the small room. About ten minutes later, after I'd had plenty of time to examine the fake plant, the spiderweb in one corner of the room, and the dusty blinds, a cruiser pulled to a stop beside my car. Officer Choral stepped out of his sliver and blue car as I strode through the door and into the parking lot to meet him.

I waved the photo as I approached. "I have the picture you asked for," I said as I held the photo out to him. "This is the latest photo of Carl that I have."

"Thank you," he replied as he pulled the picture from my fingers. "I've already sent the information you gave me to the Eugene PD, but I'll send them a copy of this photo as well."

"I know it's only been an hour or so, but any news?"

"No, I'm sorry. We won't forget about you, Ms. Ellerbe, I promise. As soon as I hear something, I'll call you. If you haven't heard from me in a couple days, you've got my card. You're welcome to call."

I could feel the tears coming again, but I willed them away with a sniff. "Yes, thank you."

"I know it's hard, but these things take time. Go home and try to get some rest. I promise, we'll get Garrett back to you as soon as possible."