Page 87 of Keeping Zita

Obi-Wan turned his back on the men dispersing into the depths of the property. For a moment, he wanted to call them back, tell them to join everyone else on the aircraft carrier, knowing they couldn’t possibly search the entire thing themselves. But they needed all the evidence they could get to make the case against Silas rock solid.

“The most obvious way in is through there,” one of the police officers said, pointing to a small hatch on the side of the huge hull.

“But how did he get her in there?” someone else asked.

Fred chose that moment to bark at a large board lying on the makeshift dock. It blended in, looking like another random piece of wood on the unstable structure, but it was obvious what it had been used for. No one needed Fred’s alert to tell them Zita had been on that board.

Edge and Chaos helped him extend it over and prop it up, one end inside the hatch, turning it into a walkway of sorts. An unsafe and wobbly walkway, but still a way inside.

He realized if Zita had been left inside, and she’d managed to find her way out, it would’ve been almost impossible to get off the damn ship without that board in place.

Obi-Wan’s hatred for Silas Graves increased with every beat of his heart. With every second he spent in this place. The thought of Zita fighting for her life, putting those marks on Silas’s face before she was forced onto this ship, physically hurt. And he had no doubt the fight occurred here, because no one at the motel had heard a damn thing. It was likely she’d been rendered unconscious upon opening the door, allowing Silas to steal her away with a minimum of fuss.

But once they arrived at the shipyard, she’d obviously fought like hell. Obi-Wan just hoped her resistance hadn’t ended in her death. That she’d been hidden away on this fucking carrier instead of murdered outright.

Obi-Wan could picture the scene in his head. His Zita refusing to do what Silas wanted, and the asshole taking great pleasure in telling her all about her impending fate. How the ship would be sunk soon—with her in it. It seemed like something the man would enjoy doing.

“You going to be okay going up that?” Edge asked Jennifer, doubt in his tone.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” she answered, as they watched a few officers go up the walkway first, to make sure things were clear inside and that it was a viable entrance.

“Because you have the dog. And it’s not stable,” Edge said.

Jennifer laughed. “You’re kidding, right? And his name is Fred, not ‘the dog.’ He’s used to walking on things like that. He’s a search dog. It’s what he does.”

Edge nodded. “Sorry. It’s just a long way down if he falls.”

“He won’t,” she said firmly.

As soon as the officers gave the all-clear, Obi-Wan was striding up the board as if it were a wide metal platform, instead of one-and-a-half feet of rotting wood. Fred followed him just as easily, with Jennifer and Edge hot on their heels.

The air inside the aircraft carrier was dank and musty, and it was dark. The second he walked too far away from the open hatch in the side of the ship, Obi-Wan couldn’t see a damn thing.

Jennifer reached into one of her pockets and took out a light. She clipped it onto her belt, then put another onto Fred’s harness, lighting the path in front of the dog.

“Here,” an officer said, handing Obi-Wan a flashlight. It was one of those industrial lights, heavy, the kind that could be used as a weapon if need be. The beam was strong and bright.

“If you’re going with us, keep the lights away from Fred’s eyes,” Jennifer warned. “He’ll be in front, but it’ll fuck with his vision if he happens to look back to check on me and gets hit in the face with that beam.”

Obi-Wan nodded.

It took another five minutes of instructions from the detective who’d joined them on their search of the ship. Everyone agreed not to put all their eggs in one basket, so to speak, just in case—though silently, Obi-Wan put his money on Fred. Still, the officers would stick together and methodically search behind every door as quickly as they could, level by level. The Night Stalkers would go with Jennifer and her search dog.

They were given radios and ordered to check in every five minutes, and required to make note of where they were frequently, so they didn’t get lost in the huge ship themselves.

Finally, after everyone memorized where the hatch was, and how to get out of the ship in case something went terribly wrong, the officers began their search.

Obi-Wan and his team turned back to Jennifer and Fred.

She once more pulled out the plastic bag with the pillowcase from one of her cargo pockets and opened it. Fred stuck his snout into the bag for a brief second to get another sniff of who he was looking for, then lifted his head and scented the air before taking off down a dark hallway to their left.

The Night Stalkers followed close behind Jennifer. Obi-Wan was grinding his teeth so hard he had the beginnings of a migraine, but he ignored it. The only thing that mattered was finding Zita.

Everyone hoped to find her quickly, but they were prepared to search the entire ship if things didn’t work out with the dog. Obi-Wan had high hopes, given the way Fred immediately seemed to lock on to a scent.

Fred had a long lead attached to his harness, and Jennifer walked quickly behind him, telling him to “find” and occasionally praising him as he searched. Everyone stayed right on her six, their flashlights pointed at the floor or the ceiling, lighting the area immediately around them as they moved.

The ship was massive. Fred doubled back now and then, as if he’d lost the scent, then picking it up again.