Since that night, his life had been the rickety jerk of a rollercoaster climbing to its peak. He knew, deep in his core, that he would eventually reach the top, hang for a moment, and then crumble downward. He didn’t want to believe this, and did everything he could to convince himself otherwise. For a full year he’d managed to prevent the world from finding his secrets. After the release at the bunker and his daughter’s triumphant return, he should have known to lie low. He had made a terrible situation workable, and the world bought what he sold them. The media attention was greater than he predicted, and for a time he had pulled back. But then, as if the universe were conspiring against him, Stellar Heights was slated for demolition, threatening to expose all the secrets he had stashed within those houses. He berated himself now as he considered all the mistakes he’d made.

In a panic, he had dug up the man’s body and, without thought, disposed of it in the bay. The job was rushed and haphazard, without detail or clarity. It wasn’t long before the fishermen made their discovery. The stress caught up to him later when he too severely punished his Love when she tried to escape through the window. This error forced him to bring her to the forest, and there his mind played tricks on him. His feelings for her were so great that his cloudy mind had caused him to leave her there, to be discovered next to her resting place. And now, the pathologist from Raleigh had shown up and was closer than she knew, offering him a profile that so closely described himself he could have authored it. This same woman had corrupted his daughter, filling her mind with things she should never have to think about.

Now, his hand was forced. Survival required him to make a move.

It was close to one a.m. when he pulled his squad car to the shoulder. The Stellar Heights sign glowed in his headlights. He tortured himself by replaying the last year, mulling each ill decision he’d made. He cursed himself for failing to control his desires. He’d spent hours playing out scenarios that would allow him to avoid what he was about to do. Hundreds of ways to prevent the proverbial rollercoaster from reaching the top and sliding into free fall. The opportunities were many, but they all required clairvoyance. And they would require him, as much as he despised the thought, to end the only relationship that remained at Stellar Heights. He’d kept her the longest, and their bond had once been undeniable. But, sadly, the events of the last year had caused them to drift apart. With the homes scheduled for demolition by the county, his survival could not be achieved if their relationship continued. He could trust only one with such a burden. The special one. The one that meant the most to him. So tonight he came to Stellar Heights to make his final visit to the one the media would soon call Elizabeth. It was a wretched name that did not suit her in the least.

Then, before the wrecking crews descended upon them, the houses would need sterilizing. Despite their imminent destruction, he couldn’t risk the discovery of evidence that might lead back to him. Too much had happened within those walls to hope that simply bringing them down would erase it all. The world knew about the ones they called Nancy and Paula. He’d make sure the world knew no more. And if he planned carefully enough, the one they might call Elizabeth would never be discovered. Four of the homes had, at one time or another, held girls. He would concentrate on them, expunge all evidence of their presence. Then, with breathing room, he’d tend to his daughter again and help her find her way back to the peace she was so close to reaching.

The plan, systematic and focused, would occupy many of the coming days. Time was both his enemy and savior. He needed to move quickly to erase his past. Taking too long would bring danger and exposure. But if he managed to pull off the first few steps—eliminating the last girl who resided at Stellar Heights and disposing properly of her remains, then making the homes immaculate before demolition—time would become his ally. He could concentrate on his daughter and help her heal. Days and weeks would tick past. Months and years, even. He would move further and further from his history. Stellar Heights would disappear and take with it all his secrets. His Loves would be missed, but with time the pain would resolve. He would be safe. His daughter would recover. The mysteries of the missing girls would fade. His heart would mend. Perhaps he could repair things at home and find a way to be happy again. He’d have to control the doctor. He’d have to placate her. He’d find a way.

His radio squawked and brought him back from his imaginings.

“We have a ten fifty-seven reported at Stellar Heights subdivision in West Bay. Request units and ambulance.”

And just like that, it was gone.

CHAPTER 61

Livia pulled the heavy, black-metal tire iron from her trunk with the help of the dome light, and raced back to the house, leaving her trunk wide open. As she ran, she tried to concentrate on the house in the distance, its image dark and shaky in her tunnel vision. Up the front steps first and then through the opened front door, Livia finally bounced down the darkened stairwell. Megan was standing with Elizabeth Jennings, holding her hand.

Livia crouched down and placed the end of the tire iron into the eye of the bolt. She leaned back, pulling with all her strength. After ten seconds of grunting, she checked her progress and noticed under the glow of the flashlight that nothing had budged, or moved, or bent. Repositioning the tool, she stood and placed her foot on the tire iron, then transferred her weight onto the bar. When nothing happened, she tried to bounce to increase the force but this resulted in the point of the lever coming free and Livia stumbling to the ground, the metal tool rattling onto the bare concrete floor.

Megan tried for another minute or two, before Elizabeth began to cry.

Livia turned to her. “I’ve already called the police,” she said. “Help is on the way. They’ll be able to free you.”

Livia watched Megan feebly work the pry bar against the bolt.

“In the meantime,” she said in the best calm voice she could produce, “we wait. All of us. We’re not going anywhere without you. Let me see how you’re doing.”

Livia passed the minutes by examining Elizabeth Jennings. She performed a cursory exam and determined the girl to be malnourished, underweight, and with signs of abrasions to her ankles and wrists as the method of bondage periodically moved to each extremity.

While Livia softly ran her hands over Elizabeth Jennings’s body, checking for broken bones or signs of infection, the girl spoke.

“Did you find the other girl?”

Livia stopped her exam, stared at Elizabeth. Megan stopped fumbling with the pry bar and looked over.

“What other girl?” Livia asked.

“The other girl who’s here. We talk to each other sometimes,” Elizabeth said, pointing to the ceiling.

Livia looked up and followed the beam of the flashlight as Megan slowly raised it to the ceiling. The light came to rest on an air vent.

“We can hear each other,” the girl said. “She’s the one who saved me. He hasn’t hurt me since she’s come. When we’re sure it’s safe, we whisper through the vent. But I haven’t heard her for a while. Not since he came last time.”

Livia felt her breathing accelerate. “This other girl is upstairs?”

“Somewhere,” Elizabeth said. “Wherever the vent leads. Her name is Nicole.”

CHAPTER 62

Livia took the stairs two at a time, the flashlight’s beam bouncing erratically.

“Nicole!” she yelled when she reached the top of the stairs. She listened for a reply but there was none.

“Nicole!”

She moved through the first floor, shining her light into each vacant room and finding no sign of life in any of them. Near the front entrance, she looked up the stairs. Livia headed up the steps and called her sister’s name when she reached the top.

“Nicole!”

When no reply came, she oriented herself, picturing the vent above Livia Jennings’s bed and extrapolating where it might lead. She shined her light down the hallway and ran for the open bedroom door. Out of breath, she reached the doorway and brought the room to life with her light. Her heart broke when she saw the bed with wrinkled sheets, an armoire, and mirror. A shackle on the ground, the leather clasp open and free.

“Nicole! Are you here?”

Livia spent another minute futilely examining the other vacant rooms on the top floor before she ran back down to the cellar.

“Is she here?” Megan asked.

“No. Elizabeth, I want you to think. When was the last time you talked to Nicole?”

“We don’t talk. We whisper.”

“When was the last time?”

“I’m not sure. A few days ago.”

Livia wasn’t sure what she wanted to hear. A year ago would make it easier. A few days meant she’d just missed her. A few days meant that if she’d worked harder or faster she might have run up those stairs and found her sister lying on that bed, just the same as Elizabeth Jennings.

A car screeched to a stop outside.

“Are the police here?” Elizabeth asked.