“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.
“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.