Chapter 12 - CABIN ZERO
Daniel refused to say another word.
Paramedics treated his shoulder while security searched every deck.
Nicole Avery had been missing for fourteen months.
If Daniel was telling the truth, she had somehow been brought aboard without appearing on the passenger list.
Rebecca remembered something.
“Kessler called it Cabin Zero.”
Captain Reynolds frowned.
“There’s no Cabin Zero.”
“Not officially.”
We interrogated Kessler after security found him hiding near the desalination equipment.
He held out for seven minutes.
Then Hale showed him Pike in handcuffs.
Kessler broke.
“Deck Two,” he whispered.
“Where?”
“Behind cold storage.”
We found a concealed door behind industrial freezers.
Inside was a narrow room.
No windows.
One mattress.
A toilet.
A camera.
And a woman.
She was painfully thin.
Her hair had been cut short.
She lifted her face when the door opened.
“Nicole?”
She flinched.
Rebecca stepped forward slowly.
“You’re safe.”
Nicole began crying.
Not loudly.
Just one broken breath after another.
Daniel had kept her alive because he needed access to accounts in her name.
Kessler had moved her between private properties and ships.
For fourteen months.
I wanted to go back upstairs and break every bone Daniel still had.
Instead, I knelt beside Nicole.
“He can’t hurt you anymore.”
She grabbed my sleeve.
“Yes, he can.”
“No.”
“You don’t understand.”
She looked toward the door.
“Daniel isn’t in charge.”
Hale crouched.
“Who is?”
Nicole whispered one word.
“Victoria.”
Rebecca’s face changed.
I had never heard the name.
“Who’s Victoria?”
Nicole stared at me.
“Daniel’s sister.”
I remembered Daniel telling me he was an only child.
Of course.
Another lie.
Nicole continued.
“She finds the women.”
Hale asked, “Where is she?”
Nicole looked terrified.
“She was at your wedding.”
My mind raced through guests.
Friends.
Caterers.
Bridesmaids.
Then Nicole said:
“She stood beside you when you said your vows.”
My blood turned cold.
Because only one woman had stood beside me.
My maid of honor.
May you like
My best friend of nine years.
Samantha Reed.
