“Yes,” Livia said, but her voice was filled with forced hope and relief. The noise outside was not what she expected. She longed to hear far-off sirens slowly growing louder, culminating in red-and-blue lights bouncing and flashing through the house. She wanted to hear ambulance horns waking the night. Instead, she heard a single car with no sirens and no lights. Absent were shouting or clamoring officers. There were no paramedics banging gurneys and equipment through the empty house and down the stairs. No radios squawking. Instead, Livia listened to a single set of footsteps as they walked overhead, pausing at the crest of the stairwell before finally descending, the glow of a flashlight preceding the strides.

Livia noticed, over the sound of the approaching footsteps, Elizabeth Jennings began to hyperventilate. She retreated to her defensive position with her knees tucked to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. Megan, too, was panicking. Livia pushed Megan behind her and stood in front of the bed as if she could protect them both from what was coming.

The light shined brightly in her eyes when he came around the corner, a fierce spotlight that brought the entire space to life and blinded them all as though looking into the sun. Livia dropped her own flashlight when the brilliant light found them. It clattered to the floor and pointed toward the corner.

The voice that came was strong and firm.

“Megan. What’s happening, honey?”

“Oh my God,” Megan said at the sound of her father’s voice.

“Where’s Nicole?” Livia said.

“Megan, I’d like you to go outside to my car.”

“Where’s my sister!” Livia yelled.

“I’m not sure what she’s told you, Megan, but I’m here now. I’ll take care of everything. Other officers are on the way. Go outside and wait for them in my car.”

Megan began to move. Livia grabbed her arm.

“Right now, Megan! Go outside so I can gain control of this situation.”

Megan walked past Livia, out of her grip.

“Good girl. Wait outside.”

Trembling, Megan walked toward the bright spotlight, unable to see her father behind its powerful glow. When she drew next to him, instead of turning to climb the cellar stairs she reached for his gun. The holster strap was fastened and she fumbled while she tried to wrestle it free. Livia saw the light drop from her eyes. With her retinas bleached, she was still blinded. There were no rational thoughts to her movements. Adrenaline flooded her circulatory system and Livia ran at him. Their bodies collided in the center of the cellar, his much heavier and thicker than hers, reminding Livia of her sparring sessions with Randy. She saw Megan tumble onto the stairs, and Livia felt Terry McDonald’s powerful grip throw her to the floor. She lunged at his feet and wrapped his ankles in her arms as she continued forward. Falling to the ground as Livia tangled his feet, the powerful spotlight rattled and landed against the wall, dousing much of its brightness.

The bottom of his shoe found Livia’s face and she felt herself propelled backward. They were both quick to their feet, Livia letting loose a side kick that landed to his ribs and took the wind from his lungs, doubling him over. She transferred her weight to her left foot, about to deliver another side kick.

Your kicks are lethal, but they get stale if you go to them too often.

Instead, she brought her right knee sharply upward and felt a clean connection with his nose. His knees crumbled and he fell in a pile to the floor.

Livia stood frozen with indecision. She wanted to grab Megan and run up the stairs, but she couldn’t bring herself to abandon the lost girl on the bed. She heard a hiss, and the acidic odor of ammonia filled her nostrils even before her eyes registered the pain. She tried to shield herself in the dark cellar, bringing her hands in front of her as the pepper spray covered her face. The burning was immediate and intense and it drove her backward.

She felt him grab her by the hair, and Livia let out a gothic scream as he launched her through the air. She landed on the table by the wall and crashed into the corner of the cellar. Her eyes bled burning tears and her lungs wheezed as the irritant entered her system. Against protests, she raised her eyelids. The flashlight Livia had dropped lay still on the floor, pointing to the spot next to Livia and brightening her hip and the concrete and the thing she had felt when she careened across the table. It was a bottle of spray paint. Livia’s mind flashed to the two strange symbols painted onto the wall. In a single motion, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the Bic lighter Kent Chapple had given her when he swore off smoking during his visit to her house the other night. She picked up the paint can with her right hand and lit the Bic with her left. Just as Terry McDonald reached her, she depressed the aerosol cap on the paint can and sprayed it through the flame. A giant fireball erupted, as if the canister itself were filled with flames. The horizontal blaze struck Terry McDonald in the face, igniting his hair. He recoiled immediately, turning away from the flame, but it was too late. First his hair, then his shirt took to flames. They were violent orange and lit the cellar brightly as the three girls watched his burning body stumble and turn. His screams were prehistoric and sickening.

He stumbled across the room, shrieking and moaning and slapping his face and head and chest. Megan ran to her father, pulling the blanket from the bed and throwing it onto his burning torso and head. He collapsed to the ground and she smothered the flames.

Semiconscious, he lay panting in the far corner. The smell of burnt flesh mixed with ammonia was worse than anything Livia had encountered in the morgue. Livia lifted the heavy flashlight that had landed in the corner. It provided all the light needed to see Megan staring at her incapacitated father, his face and chest burned black and greasy.

Livia worked hard to keep her burning eyes open as Megan unhooked her father’s gun from the holster. For an instant Livia, lying in the corner, raised her hand and tried to speak no. But before she was able, Megan adjusted the gun, both hands playing over its surface until it clicked and clattered. Then she carried it to Livia.

“Here,” Megan said. “Safety is off. Shoot him if he moves.”

Megan went back to her father and pulled the radio from his shoulder. She twisted and adjusted the knobs, tricks of the trade, Livia guessed, learned from watching her father over the years. Megan pressed a button on the side of the mouthpiece and placed it to her lips. She knew the quickest way to draw police to a scene.

“Officer down at Stellar Heights.”

CHAPTER 63

It took the first squad car six minutes to arrive. But soon after they surveyed the scene, the ghost town of Stellar Heights was alive with red-and-blue flashing lights, scores of headlights, ambulances, and fire trucks. After an hour, detectives arrived with stadium lights that brought the abandoned subdivision to life as if it were high noon. News helicopters hovered overhead as word spread.

Elizabeth Jennings was placed in an ambulance and brought to Emerson Bay Memorial. Terry McDonald was airlifted to Raleigh to be treated by the Duke burn unit. Megan was taken, under the supervision of Dr. Mattingly, to a private treatment facility undisclosed to the press. Livia, after being treated by paramedics who flushed her eyes with saline, stuck around Stellar Heights, refusing the suggestion of scans and observation.

They searched all six houses. Three appeared unused. The others showed signs of life, at one point in time. Each had similar characteristics of boarded-up basement windows with filthy living conditions in the cellars. The furnishings were consistent between all the spaces, and shared a common floor plan of a bed, a dresser, and a small table where it was determined meals had been placed. Each basement wall was graffitied with dual X’s.

Livia relayed to the police and the detectives Elizabeth Jennings’s claim that she had been in contact through the ventilation system with a girl named Nicole. She was sure it was her sister, missing for nearly a year and a half. Livia showed the detectives the second-story bedroom where similar living conditions were found—bed, dresser, and shackle. Yellow tape went across the doorway and detectives waited for the crime scene unit to pick through the room.

The search for Nicole Cutty continued.

*

It was a week before Terry McDonald was able to answer detectives’ questions. He was mummified in heavy white bandages, so that only his mouth and eyes were visible during questioning. It took three days at the hospital for detectives to put together the last three years. They found that Megan McDonald’s father wanted to talk. Was eager, in fact, to rid his soul of sin. He confirmed all the facts Livia had brought to the detective’s attention about Nancy Dee and Paula D’Amato. Elizabeth Jennings was pieced into the puzzle and tied with what Megan was beginning to divulge.