Aaron and Maya gently sat Maybelle down on the lawn. She was breathing rapidly, trying to catch her breath. Then she said, "Dead."

"Dead?" Aaron repeated. "Who?"

"All of them," Maybelle said, looking over her shoulder at the house behind her.

The door to the house was open. Aaron, who had been a medic in the first Gulf War, rose and turned toward the house. Maybelle's breathing was even harsher now. She reached for her chest and muttered, "Oh my sweet Jesus."

"I think she's having a heart attack," Aaron said, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone.

"The devil came to that house," Maybelle whispered.

"Don't talk," said Maya as Aaron punched in 911.

But Maybelle had one more thing to say.

"The blood, sweet Jesus. They are washed in the blood of the lamb. They're floating in the blood of the lamb. The devil…"

Aaron decided not to enter the house until the police arrived.

Six hours earlier, Danny Messer had gotten on an A train. There was no one in the car but Danny, who put down his backpack, sprawled on a seat, took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

He had spent the last sixteen hours, with two short breaks, looking at maggots, most of which had been found in the torn stomach cavity of ten-year-old Teresa Backles. Teresa's body had been buried under garbage in a Dumpster behind a subsidized apartment complex in Harlem. There were times when the garbage wasn't picked up for a week or more. This had been one of those times. The heat had accelerated the growth of the maggots and the decomposition of the girl's body.

Danny put his glasses back on and closed his eyes, seeing crawling white maggots. They were the Crime Scene Investigator's friend, revealing secrets of the dead, but that didn't stop Danny from thinking that someday he…