Then her eyes widened.
“Yes.”
“What name?”
She looked directly at Marcus.
“Blackbird.”
Marcus's expression immediately changed.
“Blackbird?”
Claire nodded.
“I don't know what it means.”
Marcus looked away.
Sarah, who had been standing nearby, noticed his reaction.
“Marcus?”
He didn't answer immediately.
She approached him.
“You know something.”
Marcus lowered his voice.
“Maybe.”
“What is Blackbird?”
Marcus looked at the parking lot.
“Years ago, there was a group that used that name.”
Sarah frowned.
“What kind of group?”
“I don't know exactly.”
“Criminal?”
Marcus shook his head.
“Not officially.”
“What does that mean?”
“They operated around highways and truck stops. Mostly intimidation, stolen goods, illegal deals.”
Sarah became concerned.
“And you think they're connected to Claire?”
“I don't know.”
Marcus looked toward the police.
“But somebody mentioned the name.”
Sarah lowered her voice.
“Why would they want her?”
Marcus looked back at Claire.
“That's the question.”
The police continued questioning her.
Eventually, an officer approached Marcus.
“She says she knows where the men took her before they arrived here.”
Marcus nodded.
“Where?”
“She says it was an old warehouse.”
“Where?”
“About fifteen miles from here.”
The officer looked at Marcus.
“Do you know the area?”
Marcus nodded.
“Yes.”
“Can you identify it?”
“Probably.”
The officer hesitated.
“We may need you to come with us.”
Marcus looked surprised.
“As a witness?”
“Yes.”
Marcus nodded.
“Fine.”
Sarah immediately stepped forward.
“I'm coming too.”
The officer shook his head.
“You should stay here.”
Sarah looked at Marcus.
Marcus gave her a reassuring nod.
“It's okay.”
But before Marcus could leave, Claire called his name.
“Marcus.”
He turned.
She looked frightened again.
“Don't let them take me somewhere alone.”
The officer immediately answered.
“We aren't taking you anywhere alone.”
Claire looked at Marcus.
Marcus nodded.
“I'll make sure you're heard.”
She relaxed slightly.
The police escorted Claire to another vehicle.
Marcus followed in his motorcycle.
The convoy left the gas station.
Nobody noticed the silver sedan parked across the highway.
Inside the sedan, a man watched the police vehicles disappear.
He picked up his phone.
“They found her.”
A voice on the other end asked,
“Who found her?”
“The biker.”
There was a long pause.
“The biker?”
“Yes.”
“What biker?”
“An older guy. Gray beard. Black vest.”
The voice became silent again.
Then it said,
“Marcus Cole?”
The man in the sedan looked surprised.
“You know him?”
“I know of him.”
“What do we do?”
The voice answered calmly.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Not yet.”
The call ended.
The man looked toward the road.
He didn't understand why the name Marcus Cole had caused such a reaction.
But he knew one thing.
Someone important had just become involved.
The police convoy arrived at an old warehouse nearly thirty minutes later.
The building stood far from the main road.
Its windows were broken.
The exterior walls were covered in faded paint.
Tall grass surrounded the property.
Claire looked at it through the window.
“That is the place.”
The officer looked at Marcus.
“You're sure?”
Marcus nodded.
“That's it.”
The officers exited their vehicles.
Marcus stayed behind them.
Claire remained in the police car.
Two officers entered the warehouse first.
Another officer walked around the side.
Marcus remained near the entrance.
He didn't want to interfere.
He simply watched.
Several minutes passed.
Then one officer came outside.
“Clear.”
Marcus looked inside.
The warehouse was almost empty.
There were several old chairs.
A wooden table.
Some boxes.
Nothing else.
But one officer found something interesting.
A small notebook.
The cover was black.
He opened it.
Several names were written inside.
Claire's name was there.
Marcus's name wasn't.
Yet.
The officer turned another page.
There were several dates.
Addresses.
Vehicle descriptions.