Chapter Twelve

Talon

Siege, Rigs, Smoke, and I decide to put together an unofficial crew of brothers to keep an eye on the local women's shelter where Kelly works. I'm in charge and will pull from volunteers, Haze and Vapor are gonna take the first shift today as business at the tattoo shop was slow. We decided against using prospects due to the sensitive issues going on with the shelter residents. We'll guard the outside grounds while their private duty security officers guard the inside of the building. We'll meet every week and adapt our plan if we find evidence that the Carver Killer is active or targeting the shelter. It's a good plan, considering that we're just taking precautions at the moment and there's no real evidence of a threat.

I come out to the bar looking to bring Kelly up to speed, but find Mattie and Cleo sitting at a table by themselves with their heads together. I approach, noticing there isn't a third glass on the table and my first thought is that Kelly ran off, along with any chance I might have of clearing my name. Ain't that just my luck.

I ask gruffly, "Mind if I ask where Kelly got off to?"

Both women look up at me at the same time, but only Mattie speaks. "She got a text from work almost an hour ago. A family was referred under emergency conditions and they needed help processing them, there were seven of them so it might take some time. She said to tell you that she'll contact you as soon as she was done."

I grunt and do an about face, pulling my phone out. Mattie makes an indignant sound behind me, but I don't stop to soothe her ego, because I'm worried about Kelly—while we didn't find any hard evidence that the serial killer is back, when Zen pulled up camera footage from close to the shelter, we saw a white panel van hanging around. It would park up then drive off and return again. It might have just been some tradesman doing work nearby, but for some reason it made me unsettled. We couldn't get a handle on the plates because they were splattered with dirt, and I was in two minds to ride out to take a closer look.

I ring her number as I walk out and get on my motorcycle. I sit there for a minute or two waiting for her to answer. When she doesn't, I call the shelter.

Their receptionist is an older woman who has been clipped with me in the past, she was a bit of a dragon, so I wasn't holding out much hope. "Bluebird Women's Shelter. How may I help you?"

"This is Daniel Ellis. I'd like to speak with Kelly Collins."

The other woman's voice chills. "I'm sorry, she's not working today."

"I know she came in to help out," I say irritably. This woman might see herself as a gatekeeper to the shelter, but I really can't be doing with her obstructiveness right now. "You got an emergency admission earlier on."

"Not that you're privy to the goings on of our shelter, but there have been no admissions, emergency or otherwise today."

"Bullshit," I say under my breath. "Let me talk to the other social worker, Kelly's friend. She's got to be running around there today." I know there are only two of them. Since Kelly called off, that only leaves her friend, Belinda the one she was with before she ended up on the mountain road.

The older woman sighs loudly. "Hold please."

I hear elevator music for a few seconds and then another voice comes on the line. "Hello, Mr. Ellis. Kelly had a private matter to attend to and took a personal day. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Kelly got a text earlier saying there was an emergency referral today, and her assistance was needed."

"I'm afraid we don't have the capacity to text from our work phones. If she was called in, it wouldn't be by text."

"So, you didn't text her? She told my friend's wife she'd gotten a text from Belinda."

"I think I would have remembered sending her a text. Hold on a moment, I didn't send anything, but I'll see if she's tried to get in contact with me."

There's silence and I can hear the sound of rummaging, so I guess Belinda is searching for her phone. After what seems like an hour, I hear a muffled curse.

"What? What is it?" I ask.

"Damn it! I put down my phone for a minute at the coffee shop this morning, I was waiting for my order and a woman just entered with a stroller, she got the wheel wedged in the doorway and I helped get her free. I picked up my coffee and left, I must have forgotten it…."

She kind of trails off before saying, "Shit. Do you think someone used my phone to lure her away?"

"The woman and the baby, did she look suspicious?" I ask.

"You mean, like was it a set up? I don't think so, it was so random. There were other people in the coffee shop, so how would they know I'd go and help?" Belinda sounds genuinely distraught and confused. I have to admit I am too, the only thing I know is, this is really bad news. My mind goes back to that white panel van that has been hanging around the shelter for the past few days.

"Maybe they were just waiting for their moment," I muse.

"But why? Who would do that?"

"Someone like the Carver Killer."

She gasps, "No. No way. We haven't seen anything to suggest he's been lurking around, security has been tightened up since—" She abruptly stops, I know she was about to say ‘since Anabel Ash arrived' but can't because of client confidentiality. When I don't immediately respond, she starts to panic. "You've got to find her."

"From what you've said, someone has your phone and they've used it to contact her. She's not answering her calls, so we've got to assume the worst. Someone has her." I can hear her sounding panicked on the other end of the line. My mind is racing and suddenly I have an idea. "Do you have the ‘find my phone' feature enabled? Can you sign into your cellphone account and share your location with me?"

She didn't answer but I could hear her typing at the speed of light. "Got it. Your phone number is showing up on my caller ID. Is that the number you want me to share my location with?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"This isn't good, is it?" she says.

That's the understatement of the century.

"I can't stand the thought of anything happening to Kelly. She's good people, ya know?" Belinda's voice is heavy with concern.

"Yes. I do know. I'll do everything in my power to make sure she's safe and stays that way."

"There it's done. You should get a notification."

My phone dings.

"I got it."

"Good. Call me when you find out what's going on. I'm going to be worried sick until I hear from you."

I shoot off a text to Siege, and alert him to follow my own location on the sharing app the club uses. Unwilling to waste precious seconds waiting on the others, I tear out of the clubhouse parking lot and start chasing down the location on my display. Whoever has the phone, and hopefully Kelly, appears to be making their way across town, using the main road.

They're traveling slowly, caught up in heavy traffic, so by weaving in and out I'm able to catch up with them just as they're turning off onto a secondary road. Shock roils through my gut when I realize she's not in her own vehicle, but the signal is coming from a van with a mobile mechanic's information sprawled across the side. My hunch was correct, it's the panel van that has been hanging around the shelter. I come up on the driver's side and see that a middle-aged man is driving.

Screaming, "Pull over," while pointing to the side of the road gets his attention. I'm shocked when his face lights up with anger and he sideswipes me, causing my bike to careen off the side of the road and into a ditch. In that moment it hits me full force that this asshole is likely abducting Kelly, and I curse myself for being such a fucking idiot. I should have waited for my club brothers instead of tearing off all guns blazing. Though if I had a fucking gun with me, I might have been able to blow the bastard's tires out.

I pull myself from underneath my bike, luckily nothing is hurt but my pride, and run back to the road. I was expecting to see the van disappear into the distance, but instead it swerves towards the guardrail, and I watch in horror as it slows down and something human-sized is pitched out the passenger side of the van.

My heart is racing, and I take off running at full speed towards her body as the van drives away. I take a second to memorize the license plate as I pick up speed. Falling to my knees in front of Kelly, I'm expecting the worst, and breathe a sigh of relief when I realize she's still alive but bound with zip ties and has tape over her mouth.

As I pull the tape off, and slice through the zip ties with my pocketknife, she catches her breath. "It was Anabel's ex-boyfriend. His name is Jerod Cooper. He's the one I told you about who thinks the Carver Killer is still hanging around, hoping to get his hands on my client."

"Well, he's going to pay for putting his hands on you, that's for damn sure."

"He's saying that Anabel went missing, and he thinks I have something to do with it."

Cutting the last of the zip ties, I pull my cell phone out and call the shelter on speaker phone. When the receptionist answers I say gruffly, "Put Belinda on the line, it's urgent."

She complies instantaneously and Belinda's panicked voice answers, "Did you find her? Is she okay?"

Kelly quickly states, "I'm okay. Talon got to me in time."

I interject, "Talk to us about Anabel. Is she still at the shelter."

Belinda pauses for a second before saying, "No, she left early saying she wanted to be first in line to see one of her medical doctors. She hasn't returned yet."

"You didn't send someone with her?" I ask, aghast that they'd just let her leave like that.

"This isn't a prison. The women are free to come and go as they please," Belinda responds tersely.

"She doesn't have a vehicle," Kelly reminds her friend. "How did she leave?"

"It was my understanding that she called Rides for Hire. What's this all about, Kelly? Where were you?"

"That boyfriend she refuses to talk to abducted me today. He texted me from your phone and I didn't see it coming until it was too late. Thankfully, Talon found me while we were still on the road."

"Holy shit, have you called the cops?"

"It's being dealt with," I say. With any luck my club brothers can track the bastard down. Even if he throws the cell phone out of the window, I've got his license number so Zen can hack into the traffic cams.

"Babe, I'm sorry you had to go through that," Belinda says to her friend.

"Me too," Kelly responds tightly. "Since I'm fine, we need to focus on finding our client. Can you call around to the doctors we have on file for her and see if she showed up to be seen today."

"Absolutely, I'll call back when I find out one way or another. Is there anything else I can do to help?"

I can hear the throaty roar of my club brothers' motorcycles riding to the rescue in the distance.

Kelly answers in a shaky voice, "No. We've got it from here." She turns to look over her shoulders and begins to tug her knee-high pencil skirt down.

Her legs are grazed but thankfully, not actually bleeding. I don't know what that guy was playing at, but at least he slowed down to a safe speed before shoving her out. "Are you okay?"

Helping her to her feet, I ask, "Do you need medical attention?"

She dusts off her clothing and shakes her head. "No. He just rolled me out of the van. It's no big deal."

"Are you sure? You're looking a little rough."

She looks up at me and replies flippantly, "I was more scared than anything. Seriously, I'm fine." When I give her a doubtful look, she elbows me in the side. "One of these days you're going to get your head around the fact that I'm not made of glass. It'll be interesting to see what you do after that."

I'm shocked because that sounds vaguely flirty. Before I can respond, my club brothers swarm us.

As I explain what just went down to my club brothers, Kelly rubs her tender wrists. Seeing where the zip ties abraded her wrist makes me homicidal. Rigs gets off his bike. "Here, take my bike and get her back to the clubhouse. We'll retrieve your bike and get Gordon to tow it to the garage."

Looking back, I see several of my club brothers pulling my bike back onto the road. It looks a sight worse than I originally thought. I put my hand in the small of Kelly's back and urge her forward while telling Rigs, "Thanks brother. I really appreciate it."

She's all kinds of awkward about getting on the bike. She's what we call a bike virgin and several of my brothers are smirking all over the place. Though in her defense I'd like to see any of them trying to ride while wearing a pencil skirt and heels. After getting her situated and helping her pull her skirt down again, I climb on and rev the engine. Rigs has an outstanding bike, it's a sweet, tricked out Harley that purrs like a kitten and roars like a tiger. When her hands slip around my waist, I ease forward and accelerate once I'm on the highway.

At first Kelly clutches onto me for dear life, but after a few minutes she slowly starts to relax. I'm a bit jealous that her first ride with me wasn't on my pride and joy, but Rigs' motorcycle.

I know this woman has been through a lot and is probably physically and mentally exhausted, but I won't feel comfortable letting her rest until I've thoroughly checked over her injuries and treated all her scrapes and bruises. I hope and pray she doesn't throw a fit about it. She might be downplaying what happened to her, but even if she seems physically okay, after an ordeal like that it's gonna hit her later.

I make an effort to moderate my speed and I head straight to the clubhouse. Earlier we'd talked about her staying there until we knew what was happening with the Carver Killer, but she'd turned down the offer. After today I'm not taking any chances, she'll stay with us. My natural inclination would be to take her to my house, but it's not been released by the local PD and I'm not sure I can go back there without thinking of my cheating wife and her ultimate death at the hands of some killer who is still on the loose. I need to make sure she's safe until I track this asshole down and rip his head off.