She’d said that she tried to stay in touch through the years, and Dad wouldn’t let her. Bullshit. If she’d truly wanted to, she could’ve contacted him and his baby brother Zac.
The pain in Dad’s expression confirmed it still tore him up. Carlos felt the same way. His mom introduced Carlos and Zac to the half-sister they’d never known existed. The wide-eyed little girl with them was his niece. Somehow that little girl, her innocence, reminded him of Andie.
As his thoughts turned to her the churning in his gut subsided.
He stalked to the bedroom, threw off his clothes and put on swim shorts. With a towel hung around his neck, he loped to the water. He dove in, and it was clear and cool on his sun-warmed skin. A strong swimmer, he went straight toward the middle of the lake, alone in the large expanse of blue.
Fueled by anger, he propelled himself with long efficient strokes until fatigue made him stop. He’d gone farther out than he supposed. To ease the weakness in his muscles, he moved slowly toward the shore. Legs wobbly, he straggled up the beach. The exhaustion was a welcome alternative to the smothering resentment. In the cabin, he left his wet trunks on the floor and dropped onto the bedspread.
Hours later, insistent growls from his stomach woke him. After showering and getting dressed, he set out on foot. Walking to Gabe’s would give him the freedom to drink as much as he wanted.
It was already late. The sun was about to be swallowed by the hills, and it was pleasantly cool. Halfway up the private road, a path veered left through large oak and hickory trees. The shortcut should lead to the bar, and if not it couldn’t be that far off. Soon the exterior light at Gabe’s backdoor was blinking through the branches.
“Yeah, we got here an hour ago. We’ll find him.” From the shadows, Carlos overheard a man talking on the phone. Instinct made him halt before he was noticed. “We tore up his apartment before we hit the road. It wasn’t there. That sumbitch James musta brought it with him. We’ll persuade him to hand it over... Don’t worry. We’ll teach that skinny motherfucker a lesson before we haul him in... He brought his bitch with him... I know, nobody’s gonna pay for damaged goods. We won’t do nothing to her that’ll show.”
Heavy footsteps signaled the speaker’s departure. Carlos got a glimpse of the guy. He was huge. At least three hundred pounds, with a long ponytail and a thick untrimmed beard. Covered with tattoos. Six foot six, and beefy, with arms the size of telephone poles and anvil fists. His sleeveless vest had lots of patches. The large one between his shoulders said “Satan’s Hand.”
A chill passed through Carlos. The son of a county sheriff, he was familiar with outlaw motorcycle gangs in the Midwest. The patches labeled the big man as one of the tiny percentage of cyclists that were hardcore criminals. Extortion, drugs, prostitution. They were into everything illegal, and violence was their currency of choice. Satan’s Hand had a reputation as one of the worst.
Fuck me! The “Skinny James” they were looking for had to be Andie’s boyfriend. Was she a member of the gang? He couldn’t believe it. Don’t be a sucker. An innocent face didn’t mean she was above suspicion.
Hidden among the trees, he squatted to think. He couldn’t bring himself to accept that Andie was working with criminals. “We won’t do nothing to her that’ll show,” the huge man had said. Carlos dreaded to think what they were capable of. Nobody, let alone a woman, deserved the sadistic torture they could inflict. Should he warn her?
Carlos made his way to the side of the building, staying out of sight in the brush. A few minutes later, "Huge Man" came out the front door with three others. He and two guys got on motorcycles, and one climbed into a black pickup with a hard cover over the bed. As they roared off, Carlos caught the license plate numbers of the truck and Huge Man’s motorcycle.
What now? Wait for Andie to show up? Ask around to see where she was staying? The bikers would’ve done that, and he didn’t want word to get back to them he was also inquiring.
He settled on requesting his dad’s help. He texted the plate numbers, asking his dad to run them and noted the men wore Satan’s Hand colors.
With nothing else left to do, he went in for a beer.
At the bar, he ordered a draft and took a stool. When the bartender set the glass in front of him, Carlos asked if he owned the place.
“Yeah,” the old guy said, smiling with tobacco-stained teeth. “My name’s not Gabe, though. It’s Bernie.”
“Nice to meet you, Bernie. I’m Carlos.”
“Can I get you something to eat, Carlos? We got whatever you want as long as it’s pizza or wings.”
“I’ll have the wings tonight.”
“Mild, medium, or ‘Burn Ya at Both Ends’?”
“Burn Ya at Both Ends,” he said, chuckling.
“Your funeral,” Bernie said. He yelled the order to the cook and went to help a girl that had just sat down.
After Bernie delivered Carlos’s order, he stayed to chat about the weather and the tourist business. He got a good laugh when Carlos told him about Estella the Cougar leaving her boy toy stranded at the diner.
“Those guys who left before I came?” Carlos asked. “They looked rough. Are they regulars?”
“No, they’ve never been in here. I don’t mind telling you, I won’t miss them if they don’t come again.”
“Can’t say I blame you. They seemed like trouble,” Carlos said. “Though I suppose everyone needs a vacation.”
“I doubt that’s why they’re here.” Bernie eyeballed Carlos, then whispered, “They were asking after that skinny guy and his girlfriend who were here last night.”
Carlos nodded, murmuring, “I don’t know what Skinny’s mixed up in. But it wouldn’t be good for that girl if those bikers found her.”
“Yep,” Bernie replied. “Exactly what I was thinking.”
Carlos drank two beers during the five hours he waited. At two o’clock, Bernie and JoAnne closed the bar. Andie and James hadn’t come in. Damn it, Carlos cursed silently in frustration. Now what was he going to do? Common sense said he shouldn’t do anything. Dad could notify the local deputies if necessary. Carlos should just mind his own business.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to do that.
~~~
The theme music for The Lone Ranger woke him. Carlos managed to get the phone before he missed his dad’s call.
“Hi son,” Sheriff Rey said. “How’s the vacation going?”
“It’s been good.”
“Glad to hear it. I wanted to let you know what I found out about the plate numbers you sent me. They’re from St. Louis County and both owners belong to Satan’s Hand motorcycle gang. The cycle is registered to Terrence Finnegan. It’s believed he’s the enforcer. He’s suspected of involvement in at least two murders in the last eight years.” That would be Huge Man. “The truck is under the name Steven Roble. He’s a patched member; it’s unknown if he’s an officer.”
“Yeah, the enforcer’s the size of a house. What’s the other guy’s description?” Carlos asked, rubbing his chin.
“Five-eleven, one hundred eighty pounds. Brown hair, brown eyes. No other distinguishing marks. No outstanding warrants for either of them,” Sheriff Rey said. “I contacted the chief there to let him know gang members were in his county. Other than that, nothing we can do. Why did you want them checked out?”
“No reason in particular. I thought they might be trouble.”
“They are.” His dad’s tone indicated he knew Carlos was lying. “Stay away from them. Let law enforcement handle it.” When there was no answer he added, “Son?”
“Thanks for the info, Dad. You take care. I’ll talk to you later,” Carlos said, cutting the connection before Sheriff Rey could push the issue.
It was already midmorning. He’d slept late. Putting on his shorts, he went to the lake for a long swim. The exercise woke him up, and he was clearheaded when he returned to shower and eat.
Time for some sightseeing. No harm in appreciating the beauty of natur
e and the lake. If he happened to run across where Andie or the motorcycle gang were staying, even better.
Since Andie and James had found an out-of-the-way spot like Gabe’s, it made sense that they had a place close by. Carlos explored the neighborhoods surrounding highway thirteen and drove around the perimeter of the lake. After searching for hours, he understood they’d be impossible to locate. There were hundreds of houses and cabins. He couldn’t tell which were rentals, let alone the ones that were occupied. Unless Andie’s 4Runner was parked out front, he’d never find her. Same with the gang’s motorcycles and truck.
The shadows were getting long by the time he drove to the diner and got a takeout order of fried channel cat. Back on the porch, he ate two fish sandwiches and fries, chasing them with a beer. Then he tuned his truck radio to hear the last half of a Royals' baseball game.
Another win for the Kansas City team put him in a better mood. He decided to go to Gabe’s on foot again. The bikers didn’t know his truck, and it was a good idea to keep it that way. Bernie would tell him if he’d seen Andie today.
Loud laughter met him when he stepped inside. Three women at a table in the back were doubled over, almost falling to the floor. Carlos couldn’t help but smile too as he pulled a seat up to the bar.
“Hey Carlos,” Bernie said. “You want a Coors?”
“Hello, Bernie. Yeah, a beer sounds perfect.”
“Perfect,” a voice echoed. He looked around to see the three girls assessing him. The one who’d spoken got unsteadily to her feet. Blond and blue-eyed, she wore a low cut shirt. Jeans wrapped her plump figure so tightly he was reminded of a roasting sausage ready to burst its casing. “I’m Stephanie,” she said as she glided onto the stool next to him. “These are my friends, Taylor and Janine. Taylor’s been a pal since grade school. I came to visit her in Little Rock, and we’re spending a couple days at the lake. We met Janine today.” Stephanie’s elbow slipped off the bar, displaying a groundswell of cleavage.
Carlos smiled at the women. Taylor was mid-twenties and thin. She peered at him with reserve through long bangs. Janine’s hair was brown and short. With calm reserve, she gave him a wave.
“Janine’s a head librarian!” Stephanie giggled as if the job was unheard of. She swayed in, puffing beer breath in his face. “God, can you believe that?” She turned to Bernie, yelling, “Another round for us.”
He gave Carlos a shrug that seemed to say, “What can I do?” as he prepared the drinks.
Stephanie put her palm inside Carlos’s knee. “What’s your name, handsome?”
“Zac,” he said. His little brother would forgive the lie. Carlos wanted to stay off the radar, and he’d bet this girl was a drama queen.
“Want to sit with us? We’d love for you to join in the fun.” She squeezed his leg.
“Thanks for the invitation. I don’t want to intrude, so I’ll leave you girls to it.” He turned aside.
“Humph,” she muttered, clomping off.
Carlos listened to the three chatter and laugh at Stephanie’s antics. Taylor and Janine weren’t as loud, and he hoped one of them would be sober enough to negotiate the winding area roads. When Bernie confirmed Andie hadn’t been into Gabe’s that day, he nursed his beer for an hour. He was about to ask for another when she and James got there. “Thank God,” he breathed. He motioned Bernie over.
“Do me a favor?” Carlos asked. “Get Skinny’s girlfriend to go to the bathroom.”
“How the hell do I do that?”
“Have JoAnne tell her she needs to fix her make-up or something. Just get her in there.”
“Okay,” Bernie said. Carlos strode to the hallway and tapped on the women’s room door. When no one answered, he peeked inside. His luck was holding; it was empty.
It seemed longer though only five minutes had passed when Andie came in. “Hey there,” he said.
She whirled around, swallowing a scream when she saw it was him. “You scared me to death!”
“Shh,” he cautioned. “Keep it quiet.” Her brows shot up when he locked the door.
“Why?”
“You ever heard of the motorcycle gang called Satan’s Hand?” Andie nodded. “Four members were here looking for James. I overheard one guy talking on the phone outside, saying they’d find him and haul him away. They’re planning to kidnap you, too.”
Her expression remained skeptical. “I appreciate your concern,” she said. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“Please listen to me. I know it sounds crazy, but Satan’s Hand is known for violence. Whatever they’re after, their code won’t allow them to let it go. They threatened you, Andie. The guy said that what he’ll do to you won’t show because no one will pay for damaged goods.” Her eyes got wide. Finally, she’s paying attention. A loud crash made his next words die on his lips.
Then all hell broke loose.
The bar erupted into chaos, and Andie ran out of the bathroom. In the hallway, Carlos caught up to her and seized her around the waist. Stephanie knocked over a table when Huge Man pushed her. Taylor and Janine screamed when she careened into a chair and pulled it to the floor. As she fell, her pants split. People were yelling and running. Huge Man picked James up by the throat. The floor was six inches under his feet when Huge Man growled, “Where’s the bitch?”
Carlos didn’t need to hear any more. He hoisted Andie up and carried her through the back door. She writhed against him. “James! I’ve got to help him. Let me go!”
He slung her around and clapped his hand over her mouth. “Shh!” he whispered. “I can’t beat four of them. They’ll hold you hostage and take turns raping you.” That took the fight out of her, and she let him pull her along the path.
Just as they reached the shadows, the door banged open. Carlos stood deathly still, clutching Andie against him. They heard steps approach. Carlos tensed. If they were discovered, he’d fight them to give her time to run. The footfalls stopped as the man peered into the woods.
“She out here?” Huge Man called from the building.
“Nah,” came the answer. “Maybe Skinny did come by hisself like he claims.”
“We got him at least. Let’s move.”
A short while later the motorcycles and truck rumbled away. Carlos exhaled.
“We have to follow them and get James.”
“It’s too late,” Carlos said. “Come on.”
“No, let me go. I’m going after him,” she said. He ignored her, tugging her along by the hand. Something sharp clamped onto his wrist.
“What the hell?” he yelped. She’d bitten him.
“I said let me go!”
“Fine!” he answered without releasing her. “Go ahead. If you think you can get those four bikers to give up James, you do that.” She didn’t move and stood staring at him, pleading with those gorgeous eyes. “Okay, I’ll call the police.” He pulled out his phone. “Damn it. There’s no reception here. Come with me.”
Making her jog to keep up, he didn’t slow until they approached the cabin. Before it came into view he cut into the forest and circled, careful to stay in the undergrowth. Only his truck was there. They dashed inside, and he dialed the number. As it rang, he said, “Don’t turn on the lights.”
“Hello son,” Sheriff Rey answered.
“Hey, Dad. Can you contact the local deputy for me? The gang abducted a guy from a bar.”
“When did this happen?”
“About twenty minutes ago,” Carlos said.
“I’ll need the guy's information. You know who he is?” Carlos handed the phone to Andie. She spelled James’s full name and gave his date of birth, address, and description, and returned the phone.
“So, I’m guessing she’s the reason you didn’t notify the local department yourself?” Sheriff Rey asked.
“That’s right,” Carlos answered.
“Any idea why the gang took James?”
“It’s probably associated with drugs. He’s an addict.”
“I’ll aler
t them. And son? Try not to get in any deeper.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
~~~
The night was beautiful. The moonless sky's milky trail glowed on the water’s surface. Carlos and Andie sat on the beach holding bottles of beer they forgot to drink.
He listened for the sound of engines as she talked. Her emotions bounced from worry, to anger at James, to fond memories of their good times together, then back to worry. At least he’d convinced her not to search for James on her own.
To focus her thoughts, Carlos asked how they met.
“It was the morning my mom died,” she said. “I was in the tenth grade. The school counselor told me there’d been an accident, and someone was coming to pick me up. He refused to give me any more details, and I knew it had to be bad. I was waiting in the outer office by myself, crying, when James came in. I’d seen him around but didn’t know him. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t pretend it would be okay, or tell me I’d ‘get through it.’ He just sat next to me and held my hand.”
“I lost my mom, too.” Even as the sentence came out, Carlos was kicking himself.
“When did she die?”
“About seven weeks ago. Cecilia was my aunt, yet she was more of a mother to me than my real mom.” He hated that his voice broke.
“It hurts a lot,” Andie said. “What happened to your real mom?”
Damn it! Should’ve kept his mouth shut. Her gaze pinned him in the starlight. “She left when I was four,” he rasped, taking a long pull on his beer.
“You haven’t seen her since?”
“Not until my Aunt Ceci’s funeral,” he said. “Supposedly she’d always wanted to be a part of our lives.”
“You sound as if you don’t believe her?”
“Fuck no!” he exclaimed. “She left because she was pregnant with another man’s baby.”
A breeze fluttered the leaves and rippled over the water. “She should have the benefit of the doubt,” Andie said.
“She doesn’t deserve it.”
“You can’t be certain. Until you hear her side, you won’t have the whole story.” Carlos dismissed her with a shrug. She continued, “I’d give anything to have my mother here with me. You still can. Don’t throw that away.” When he didn’t respond, she said, “What if she was raped?”
The Art of Getting Away (Companion Short Story to The Art of Living series) Page 2