Page 87 of The Girl Who Was Taken

Livia looked up to see, high overhead, the lights of a jetliner blinking against the black canvas sky. Megan closed her eyes and listened, nodding her head. She looked back to the sky and watched the plane until it was gone from sight and out of earshot. Then she satdown on the hood of the car and closed her eyes. After twenty minutes, Livia grew anxious, standing in the dark, abandoned subdivision.

She was gathering the courage to ask some questions when Megan’s eyes shot open, a faint smile finding her face. She began nodding. “Do you hear it?”

Livia listened to the dead night. “Hear what?”

“Wait. It will come again.”

And it did. Faintly in the far distance, Livia heard a train’s whistle.

Megan looked at Livia, locked her eyes with a triumphant stare. “This is where he kept me. In one of these abandoned homes.”

“How do you know, Megan?”

“I’ve searched for months during my lunch hour. Searched for the right distance from the airport. The right flight pattern of the planes. The correct height of their approach. The volume of their engines. And I searched for that whistle. It belongs to a freight train that runs through Halifax County. I know, the best I can remember through the haze of my sedation, that it took about an hour that night to transport me from the cellar to the bunker. With these clues, I visited location after location, but none of them quite fit. Stellar Heights, though . . . it’s the place that brings all those clues together.”

Again Megan ran the flashlight around the homes, a point source of light in an otherwise black abyss.

“I’m sure, Livia. This is the place.”

CHAPTER 52

August 2016

The Night of the Abduction

Casey watched the headlights in his rearview mirror, making sure Nicole was behind him. He’d ignored the chime of his phone. He was sure Nicole was calling to inquire why they weren’t headed to Coleman’s. The phone’s ringtone—“Sweet Home Alabama”—was a melodious contrast to the crying and pleading from the girl in the backseat, bound and hooded, who went on in hysterics about her father. Casey turned the radio louder.

When he reached their destination, he jumped out pushed open the cast-iron gates. Nicole yelled something through her open window but Casey did not acknowledge her. Instead, he climbed back into the Buick and turned into the darkness, following the winding road for several minutes. Finally, bathed in blackness and isolation, he stopped the car and shifted into park. Nicole stopped behind him. The girl’s cries had begunto die down, the sedative finally taking effect. He quickly slammed his door and walked to Nicole’s car.

“Where are we? This is creepy.”

“Trust me,” Casey said, sitting in the passenger seat of Nicole’s car. “What I have planned is better than the shed at Coleman’s.”

Nicole looked around at the abandoned homes with no lights. “Think she’ll be able to find her way out of here? I mean, where the hell are we, anyway?”

Casey ignored the question. He needed to give the ketamine a little longer. He turned the radio’s volume louder.

“What did you think of my technique?”

“I think you’re sadistic,” Nicole said. “Is she freaking out?”

He didn’t want to talk about the girl, so he slid a hand onto Nicole’s thigh. “So it turned you on?”

“Sort of,” she said. “When do we screw with her?”

Casey looked at his watch. “Twenty minutes.”

He leaned over and bit Nicole’s earlobe. They frolicked in the car, unaware of the sedan parked down the way, lights extinguished with the driver watching from the darkness. The man grew impatient as his body burned with anticipation. His delivery had arrived. A new girl. One he planned to love and care for more than any other. But his thrill of this night was overshadowed by the pulsing vessel in his neck.

The Buick Regal was not alone. A second car had trespassed into his secret world of Stellar Heights.

CHAPTER 53

November 2017

Fourteen Months Since Megan’s Escape

Livia stared at Megan. The car’s headlights were hitting them at thigh-level and gnats floated in their beam.

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