Page 81 of Keeping Zita

Taking a deep breath, she slowly sat up, putting a hand out to catch herself from falling over from the dizzy spell the small movement caused. Shit. This wasn’t good. But she was still alive, and she’d do whatever she could to stay that way.

“I’m here, Sage,” she said out loud. “Come get me. I’m waiting.”

It felt better talking to Sage than the spirits who may or may not be lurking in the hunk of metal that was her prison.

Slowly standing up, Zita moved to the end of the bunk and began to feel around with her hands. There had to be something she could use to try to call attention to the fact that she was here. Even if no one heard her, it would make her feel better.

Time was moving too fast. Obi-Wan was well aware of the statistics that said if a missing person wasn’t found within forty-eight hours, it was likely they’d be dead when—and if—they were found.

Half of that time had already passed, and no one was any closer to finding Zita than they were twenty-four hours ago. He was frustrated, irritated, and terrified out of his skull.

Yesterday, while Buck called Casper, Obi-Wan had called Tex. Something he should’ve done way earlier. He wished like hell he could turn back the clock and do things differently. But he couldn’t. And here they were.

Tex assured him that he was “on it,” but Obi-Wan hadn’t heard from him since yesterday afternoon. Which both pissed him off and stressed him out beyond measure.

If Tex couldn’t find Zita, what were the odds that he could? He needed the man’s investigative prowess to at least give him a place to start looking. He’d given him Silas’s name and told him what little he knew about the guy, but would that be enough for the former SEAL to find out where he’d taken Zita?

The police were also investigating—and had picked up Silas—but everyone knew Tex could move much faster than law enforcement ever could. And time was of the essence. Crime scene techs had come out and taken swabs of the blood on the floor, and confirmed that it was human. But of course, the detectives had cautioned Obi-Wan, saying that didn’t mean it was Zita’s.

But he knew it was.

Knew it in his gut.

There was absolutely no reason for Zita to be gone. He’d bet his Night Stalker career on the fact that Silas had come to her room, hurting her the second she’d opened the door.

Casper had decided—with the owner’s permission—to make Anchor Point home base for the search for Zita. He could’ve chosen the Army base, but civilians weren’t allowed and they needed all the help they could get. Once word got out that Zita was missing, had possibly been kidnapped, locals turned out en masse to aid in the search efforts.

It was almost enough to have Obi-Wan smiling. Almost.

But being around so many people, all asking questions he had no answers for, was making him extremely jumpy and irritated. He was grateful for any help he could get, but he had a feeling it was all for naught. Whatever Silas had done with Zita, he’d hidden her well. But was she alive or dead…that was the question.

Obi-Wan wanted to know why, but right now, finding her was the priority. It didn’t matter what his reason was for targeting the unassuming medic who had a smile for everyone, who did what she could to assist the injured on her film jobs—and beyond. The woman carried medical shit in her purse, for goodness sake. She didn’t have a mean bone in her body.

And Silas had done something to her. Hurt her. Hidden her away.

Obi-Wan and his friends had huddled in one corner of Anchor Point. All the lights were on in the bar, and it made the familiar space seem decidedly unfamiliar. It was just one more thing to make him uncomfortable.

Casper and Edge were talking to the police officers and detectives who were helping them organize the search teams. Chaos and Pyro were handing out fliers with Zita’s picture to the volunteers waiting to be told where to look.

And Buck was hovering near Obi-Wan, which he appreciated more than he could say. Buck had his back. In the air and on the ground. They were copilots, partners, and best friends. He knew without Obi-Wan having to say a word how on edge he was. He was there, a silent pillar of support, just as Obi-Wan had been for him when Mandy was in the hospital. He’d spent many hours in a chair by Mandy’s side, whenever Buck was forced by their other friends to go home to shower and eat.

Buck didn’t say stupid things like, “We’re going to find her,” or “She’s all right,” because he knew neither of those things were a given.

Obi-Wan was a realist. Silas Graves was a big man. He could’ve killed Zita and disposed of her body in a number of ways that would make finding her impossible. He didn’t want to believe that was what happened, that the beautiful woman he loved was no longer alive, but he had to face the possibility. And that sucked.

The door to Anchor Point opened, and out of reflex, Obi-Wan looked over to see who’d entered.

To his shock, it was Carmen St. James.

There were two large men at her back, whom he assumed were bodyguards. She looked around, saw Obi-Wan, and headed straight for him.

The very last person he wanted to see or talk to was this woman—and he couldn’t shake the sudden epiphany that she was part of this.

Silas had been her bodyguard, they’d spent every moment together when she was on set, and rumor had it that she was sleeping with the man assigned to keep her safe. The same man Obi-Wan suspected had taken Zita.

“What is she doing here?” Buck growled under his breath.

Obi-Wan didn’t have a chance to respond before Carmen reached them and threw her arms around him.