Savior

Hanna

"Officer Choral? This is Hanna Ellerbe. You gave me your card and told me to contact you if you hadn't called me about Garrett Ellerbe, the kidnapped boy."

"Yes, Ms. Ellerbe, how may I help you?" the officer asked.

I all but rolled my eyes. Why did he think I was calling? "You said if I hadn't heard anything about Garrett, I should call."

"I'm sorry, but I don't have any news for you."

"It's been three days!"

"Yes, ma'am, I know. Eugene police checked out the Orcas. They are very familiar with them. Unfortunately, Mr. Ellerbe has an alibi during the time of the abduction. He was at..." he paused a moment, and I had the impression he was looking for something, "at Willamette Valley Harley-Davidson having the oil changed at the time of the abduction."

"But I know it was the Orcas! He wouldn't be so stupid to come do it himself! I told you that! He had some of his club members do it for him!"

"Yes, ma'am, I understand, and I believe you. The Eugene police department probably believes you as well, but we can't arrest anyone without evidence, and there's no evidence that ties Mr. Ellerbe or the Orcas to the kidnapping."

"So what are the police going to do? Can't you issue an AMBER alert or something? Maybe someone has seen him, or has information, or something."

There was long pause and I had the feeling bad news was coming. "No, ma'am, I'm sorry, but we can't issue an C.A.E. We—"

"What's that?" I interrupted. "What's a C.A.E.?"

"C.A.E. stands for Child Abduction Emergency."

"What?" I barked. "Why not?"

Choral cleared his throat. "As I was going to say, we don't have enough information to issue a C.A.E. We have no description or identity of the kidnappers, or of the vehicle. One or the other of those is required to issue the alert."

"Mom gave you the description of the car, even the license number!"

"Yes, ma'am. The car was found abandoned in Redmond. The vehicle was reported stolen in Eugene about a week ago."

"So? Can't you, I don't know, issue the alert with the information we gave you? What difference does the car make?"

"Ms. Ellerbe, you have to understand, the C.A.E. is designed to help the police and the public locate a missing child, but—"

"I know!" I shouted into the phone. "That's what I want!"

"Ms. Ellerbe, I know you're upset, but there are strict guidelines to follow when issuing a C.A.E. to protect the system from being overloaded. Because we don't have any actionable information about the kidnapping, we can't issue a C.A.E. at this time. If you have any more information you can give us, maybe we can do something, but until then, I'm sorry, our hands are tied on this matter."

"So you're doing nothing?" I demanded.

"No, ma'am. The case is still active and the Eugene police are investigating the Orcas and Mr. Ellerbe."

"So you're doing nothing," I repeated, and this time it wasn't a question.

"Ms. Ellerbe, we're doing everything we possibly can. I promise you, we won't let this drop. Every officer here and in Eugene wants to get Garrett back to you as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Officer Choral," I snarled before banging the phone down, "for not doing

shit

!"

I wanted to rip the phone off the wall and throw it through the window. I stomped around the house for a long moment, trying to burn off my anger and frustration. It had been three days of unmitigated hell. I'd been unable to eat or sleep as I worried about Garrett. It had taken every bit of my willpower to not call the police every twenty minutes to find out if they'd heard anything, and now I find out they weren't doing

shit

! I returned to the kitchen and picked up the phone, dialing Mom's number from memory.

"Crooked River Elementary. How may I help you?"

"Lizzie, uh, Elizabeth Tyrell, please. This is her daughter."

"Ms. Tyrell is in class at the moment. May I take a message?"

I considered leaving a message, but I decided I needed to talk to her, to explain to her, what I was doing and why. "Please, this is a family emergency."

"Oh, no... Did they find your son? Is he alright?"

"No, not yet, but I need to talk to her. Please!"

There was a long pause. "Hang on and I'll send someone to get her. I'm so sorry to hear about your son."

"Thanks," I grunted.

I was on hold so long I was beginning to think the line had gone dead, and was considering calling back, when the phone clicked.

"Hanna? What is it? What's happened?"

"Nothing, and that's the problem. I just talked to the police and they haven't done anything. I can't take it anymore. I wanted to let you know I'm going to Eugene to get my son back."

"Hanna, no! Let the police handle it!"

"I would, but they're

not

handling it! To them, Garrett is just another missing little boy, but he's not. He's my missing little boy, and I'm going to go and get him back!"

"What are you going to do that the police can't?" Mom cried.

"I don't know, but I have to do something."

"Hanna, you need to think about what you're saying! Don't do anything! I'll be right home!"

"Don't bother. I'm not changing my mind."

"Just wait there!"

"Goodbye, Mom. I'll see you after I find him. Love you."

"Hanna! Don't—" Mom was saying as hung up the phone.

I had less than four hundred dollars to my name, but that was enough to buy gas to get me to Eugene. I'd worry about the rest after I got there.

I knew Mom couldn't leave until the school arranged for someone to cover her class, and that would take a little time. Dad would be quicker to get home if she called him, but not having much meant it wouldn't take me long to pack. I hurried to my room, pulled out my one suitcase, and began stuffing it with clothes, not bothering to be neat about it.

-oOo-

I pulled my wheezing Beetle to a stop in front of the Orca's clubhouse. I hadn't been able to remember the address, but I'd been there enough times as Carl's old lady that I knew how to find it. Located near the Union Pacific rail yard, the clubhouse was a squat building that had once been a grocery store and was surrounded by pawn shops, garages, and various warehouses and businesses, which afforded the club plenty of privacy.

There were eight bikes parked in a line, though none of them were Carl's. Carl may not be there, but some of the Orcas' were, and maybe one of them would know where he was. All I knew was I wasn't leaving until I found out where that asshole was, and what he'd done with Garrett.

I tried the door. Not surprisingly, it was locked. I pounded has hard as I could, kicking it once for good measure. After a moment the door opened and a gorilla stepped out, closed the door behind him, and glared down at me. I'd never been as active in the club as Carl wanted, especially after our marriage started falling apart, and I didn't recognize the brute. Covered in tattoos and attitude, he made me want to take a step back, but I forced myself to stand my ground.

"You have a lot of nerve coming here," he growled.

"Where's Carl?" I demanded, my voice hard as I tried not to show fear.

"He's not here."

"I know that. Where is he?"

"Don't know."

"When will he be back?"

"Don't know that either."

"I want to ask around," I said as I tried step around the hulking man, but he stuck his hand out to block my entrance.

"You're not welcome here anymore."

"I want to speak to... what's his name? The President. Hillon."

"Helton. He's not here either."

"Then who the hell is here?"

"Nobody for you."

"Get out of my way," I snarled as I tried to muscle past, but the man shoved me back as easily as I could have Garrett. Maybe easier.

"Don't try it, Hanna. You're nobody to this club now."

"I want my son back!" I screamed.

"He's not here either."

I tried to duck past, but the man shoved me back, harder this time. I set my jaw and immediately went at him again, trying to dodge past. He shoved me back again, much harder this time, and I stumbled off the low curb and went hard to my ass. I sat, stunned for a moment before I slowly got to my feet. I stared down, as if beaten, and then charged the man at a run, trying to get around him before he could react. I nearly slipped past before he grabbed my arm and yanked me to a stop.

"I'm not leaving without my son!" I screamed, kicking, and scratching, and I'd have bitten him if I could.

He tossed me away as if I weighted nothing, and this time I landed in a hard, rolling tumble, crying out in pain as I bounced and slid to a stop. I stumbled to my feet, cradling my right arm as I whimpered in pain and fear.

"Try that shit again and I won't go so easy on you," the man snarled.

"I'm not leaving without Garrett! Garrett!" I screamed as loudly as I could, hoping to hear him answer. I heard nothing and whimpered. "Please, just give me my son and I'll go. Please!"

"You shouldn't have tried to take him away from Carl," the man rumbled.

"I just want my son back," I sobbed. "Please. Please give me my son."

Leeda stepped out of the clubhouse. "Dammit, Guillotine, do you want the cops back here for battery?"

"Carl said to not let her in," Guillotine rumbled.

"Fine. But look at her! The damn cops will have your ass. Go get me a wet cloth."

"You better not let her in," he warned.

"I'm not letting her in! Now go! Warm water!" she called as the man stepped into the building, glaring as me before he did.

The woman stepped closer. "Garrett's not here," she said softly as she grimaced at my scrapes and cuts.

Leeda was one of only a handful of women in the club I had any respect for, and the only one I actually liked. She was dressed for sex, her big tits and firm ass on proud display, her bottle-blonde hair slightly but carefully mussed to give the impression she'd just finished a long, hard fucking, but I knew she had a kind heart.

"Where is he? Please, Leeda, tell me. You know Carl. He can't be trusted to take care of him," I said softly, not wanting to get the woman in trouble.

"If I knew, I'd tell you," she began but stopped when she heard the door open behind her. She took the wet bar towel from Guillotine. "Now go away," she ordered. "You make me nervous."

"You better watch your mouth."

"Yeah, or what? You touch me and Dirk will have your balls for breakfast."

"You just better watch your mouth," the man grumbled as he went back inside the clubhouse.

Her lips tight, she began to gently clean my face, arm, and hands. "Can you move your arm?"

I slowly raised my arm, grimacing at the pain in my elbow. "Yeah. It just hurts."

"What were you thinking?" she asked as she turned the towel and again wiped at my cheek. The towel came away bloody, but not too bloody.

"I have to get Garrett, Leeda. I can't trust Carl, you know that!"

"I know. But they're not here."

"Where are they? Do you know?"

"No."

"Have you seen Garrett? Is he okay?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen them," she said as she began cleaning my elbow. "He probably knew you'd know it was him and have the cops show up here."

"You don't have any idea where they may be?"

Leeda shook her head. "No, not really. You might try Bayport."

"Bayport? Where's that? And why?"

"I don't know where, but there's a rumor going around that the Orcas are going to patch over a club there. You know Carl... he always wants to be where the action is."

"Do you think Garrett is with him?"

"Hanna, I swear, I'd tell you if I knew. I like you, and I think you deserve better than that shit Carl. I don't even know if he's in Bayport, but it's all I've got."

I met Leeda's eyes as she gently cleaned the scrape on my face again. "Thank you, Leeda, for everything."

"If I hear anything I'll let you know. You have a number where I can reach you?"

"No," I said softly. "Carl smashed my phone and I haven't been able to replace it."

"What an asshole! I'm glad you're divorcing him. I don't know what Viper sees in him, other than he's a suck up and a yes man." She pulled me into a hug. "I hope you get Garrett back, and soon. Do you have something to write my number down on? You can call me and I'll pass along anything I hear."

I limped to my car and after a bit of searching, I found a working pen and scrap of paper. I exchanged the pen and paper for the towel. As Leeda quickly jotted down her number, I wiped at the scrape on my leg and knee, hissing with the sting. I held out the towel to Leeda as she extended the pen and paper to me.

"Keep it."

I tossed the towel into the car and took the paper and pen. "Thank you... for everything."

I dropped into the car and turned the key. "You deserve better than this," Leeda said as the car whirred on the starter and I stomped on the gas pedal a couple of times. "Are you sure that thing will make it to Bayport?" she asked as the car coughed to life and I revved the engine to keep it running.

"It has to."

-oOo-

After I left the Orcas' club house, I drove to the Eugene public library where I used one of their public computers to look up Bayport. Thankfully, it was easy to get to, a straight shot down 126 to the 101, and then North, so I didn't have to worry about getting lost.

On the two-hour drive I formulated my plan. If there were a club in town that the Orcas were going to try to take over, I'd trade information for their help in locating Carl.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

I briefly considered going to the police, but since I had I had no proof that Carl or Garrett was in Bayport, I decided to wait. Once I was sure Carl was in town, then I'd go to the police and raise enough hell they'd have do something, if only to get me to shut me up and go away.

Since I'd arrived Bayport, I'd been hitting what bars I could find, asking around, and then using that information to find the next bar. I'd spent more time trying to follow fuzzy directions in an unfamiliar town than I did actually trying to find the club. So far I'd come up dry, most people proclaiming complete ignorance of there being a motorcycle club in town. I found that hard to believe. Eugene wasn't a huge city, but it was four or five times the size of Bayport, and everyone in Eugene had at least heard of the Orcas, even if they didn't know anything about them.

I was looking for my next stop, some place named Happy Tails, when, at the last moment, I saw a motorcycle shop. Since I wasn't getting anywhere asking questions at bars, I decided it was worth a stop. I braked hard, fighting the wheel to keep the Beetle straight as it tried to turn right, before I turned into the parking lot, and pulled to as stop in front of the huge, two story tall, showroom.

"May I help you?" the young man behind the counter asked as I entered.

I didn't see any reason to be coy. "I'm looking for the local motorcycle club."

The man's eyes narrowed immediately. "There're some guys who ride bikes around, but I don't know of any formal club or anything."

For the first time I felt like someone was holding back. "Look, I'll level with you. I'm here looking for help, and I think they can help me. In exchange, I have information they'll want to know."

"What kind of help?"

"My ex kidnapped my son. I'm trying to get him back."

"And your ex rides with a club in Bayport?"

"No. My ex rides with the Orcas, but I have it on good authority there's a club in town and I have news they're going to want to hear. No," I amended an instant later, "not want to hear, need to hear."

The man scratched his head, as he held my gaze. "Okay. If there is a club in town, they might hang out at Doonz. You know where that is?"

"Not a clue," I said, offering him a smile.

"Get on the 101 south and cross the bridge. A few miles after the bridge, you'll pass Simmons Building Supply, a big lumber yard on your left. Take the second right after you pass the lumber yard, and it's right there."

I repeated the instructions back, just to make sure I had them, and he nodded. "And the name of this club, if there was one?"

"Just ask for Doug Meyer."

"Doug Meyer," I repeated. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome."

As I dropped into my car, I saw the man at the counter talking on his phone. I smiled to myself as I turned the key and stomped on the throttle. My Bug roared to life and I shifted it into reverse with a thud. I backed out of the parking space and puttered to the road. A quick glance and I floored the car. I had a feeling was expected, and I didn't want to keep Mr. Doug Meyer waiting.

-oOo-

I pulled to a stop in front of Doonz Bar and Grille. There were a couple of cars, but also a dozen motorcycles, all crotch rockets, with a lone exception. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I strode into Doonz.

Doonz was a tidy place, with hardwood floors and dozens of highly polished wooden tables of various sizes scattered around the large room. To one side was a well-stocked bar of the same polished wood as the tables. Behind the bar, well-lit with bright spots, was a mirror reflecting the elegant liquor bottles in front of it with

Doonz

etched into the glass in huge italic lettering. Paintings of sandy beaches with oceans beyond completed the décor.

"May I help you?" the barkeep asked as I stepped up to the bar. He was an older man, judging by the faint wrinkles around his eyes, but with his clean-shaven head, I could only guess his age to be between forty and seventy.

"I'm looking for Doug Meyer."

"Don't know him."

"I saw his bike outside."

"Then you should know what he looks like."

I glanced around the bar but there wasn't a group of men large enough to account for the number of bikes out front. I pursed my lips. I was too close to be bamboozled by this guy.

"He's not in here. Look, I need to see Mr. Meyer. I have news he's going to want to hear. If I don't tell him what I know, and he finds out you prevented me from seeing him, he's going to be pissed."

"I doubt it."

"Please! Look, can you just ask him to meet with me, please? I'm not kidding. I have news he'll want to hear."

"Tell it to me and if I see him, I'll pass it along."

"No. This is for him and him alone." Despite my best efforts, I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. "Look, I'll step outside. There's a blue Volkswagen out there. That's mine. Please, just ask him to see me. I only need five minutes of his time. Please! It's important."

The man watched me a moment, and then softened slightly. "Okay. Go wait in your car. If he's not out there in five minutes, you might as well go home."

I sniffed and forced a smile. "Thank you. Five minutes is all I need, and make sure he knows it's important. For both of us."