LITMIR.BIZ

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When the phone vibrated in her hand, she almost dropped it. Fumbling and juggling, she got it back in her grip and stared at the text message from Brax.

      FORGET U EVER WENT TO VEGAS

      She texted back frantically. What’s going on?

      NOT A WORD TO ANY1 ROX BAD THINGS HAPPEN IF U TALK

      I want to know what’s happening!

      WILL CALL WHEN WE NEED U JUST REMEMBER FAMILY IS EVERYTHING

      Family is everything? That was rich. Growing up, she spent every Christmas alone at boarding school. The one time they’d remembered her birthday, it had been to hide their ill-gotten gains. And graduations? Ha! Their idea of family and hers were oceans apart.

      She stared at the screen. Wait. Bad things would happen if she talked? What did that mean? She panicked for a moment, sinking onto her chair and putting her head between her knees. When she stopped seeing stars, she straightened. Her father and brothers were criminals. And they were up to their necks in something involving the Barrons—something they wanted her in the middle of. That was so not going to happen.

      “What to do, what to do?” she mumbled, standing to pace again. One of the open tabs on her computer browser caught her gaze. A web search for “Barron Companies.”

      Dropping into her chair, she scooted it up to the desk and began investigating. Five minutes later, she had a phone number for Barron Security Services, at the helm of which was CEO Cash Barron. She hadn’t known who he was back when she was sixteen and he’d stood in that dingy interview room at the Fairfax Police Department. But she’d never forgotten him. He’d starred in some of her more...lurid fantasies over the years. Should she call him? What would she say?

      She needed a plan.

      * * *

      Cash put his best tracer on Roxanne Rowland. The information they’d discovered did not mesh with what he knew about the rest of the family. The girl lived in a cheap apartment in the northwest part of town and worked at Reade-Cannon-Mansfield, the premier advertising firm based in Oklahoma City. He’d made some phone calls to the Barron account executive at RCM to get a rundown on her. According to his investigation of the Rowlands, Max and the boys lived the high life. From the French Riviera, to the luxury hotels of Dubai and Hong Kong, to the Gold Coast of Florida, the Hamptons, Aspen. Every playground of the rich and famous had been a hunting ground for the larcenous clan. None of that jibed with the information they’d dug up on Roxanne.

      His door burst open and Bridger stood there with a shit-eating grin. “You aren’t going to believe who’s on line one.” His cousin nodded toward the phone console on the desk.

      Cash arched a brow, waiting for Bridger to fill him in. He didn’t have to wait long.

      “A woman wanting to speak to whoever is in charge of casino security. The call was routed to Cheri. When she asked the caller’s name, the twit gave it to her. Roxanne Rowland.”

      Suspicious by nature, Cash reined in the surge of adrenaline spiking through him at the news. “What are the odds, Bridge?”

      “High enough I wouldn’t lay a bet on ’em. That said, we don’t have anything to lose. I’ve already started the trace on the call. I can keep her on the line long enough to pinpoint her location.”

      Cash motioned him closer, and before hitting the line to put it on speakerphone, said, “You take the call.”

      “Bridger Tate. How can I help you?”

      “Um...” Several muffled breaths puffed through the speaker. “Uh...hi. I...are you the one in charge of security for the Crown Casino out in Las Vegas?”

      “Yes.”

      “Uh...you said your name is Tate?” The voice on the other end sounded hesitant.

      “That’s right. Bridger Tate. I’m vice president of BSS.”

      “Oh. Okay. That’s okay then. I guess.”

      “Is there a reason you’re calling, ma’am?”

      “Oh. Roxie. Er, Roxanne. Roxanne Rowland. You don’t know me or anything.”

      Cash made a circling motion with his hand, indicating Bridger should move things along.

      “Should I know you, Ms. Rowland?”

      “No.” The word came out forcefully. “I mean, no.” Softer this time. “I don’t think so. I...look, I’m sorry. This was a bad idea.”

      “Don’t hang up!” Cash’s order cut through the air. “This is Cash Barron.”

      “Oh.” The single syllable all but trembled as it sighed through the speaker.

      “Why are you calling, Ms. Rowland?”

      “My family...you see, they...”

      They what? he wanted to shout. Her father and brothers were criminal scum and she had to be calling on their behalf. What sort of scam were they trying to set up? “I don’t have all day, Ms. Rowland. There must be a reason you’re calling. Get to it.”

      “Oh, okay. Yes. Well, see... I’d like to meet with you. Explain in person.” Her voice grew a little stronger. The woman was a helluva actress.

      “Explain what?”

      “Can we meet somewhere?”

      “I’ll be happy to set up an appointment here in our offices.” And he’d have the cops on speed dial to take her into custody.

      “I... I’m not sure that would be a good idea.” She inhaled deeply and blew out the breath. “Oh, never mind. This was a stupid idea. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

      “Ms. Rowland,” Cash snarled. “Roxanne.”

      “I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know what they’re doing. Only that it’s bad. I’m sure of it. It was stupid to call you. I just... When I saw you in Vegas, and recognized you... I thought maybe...oh, heck. I don’t know what I thought.”

      “Come to my office, Roxanne. We’ll talk.”

      “No. I don’t know if they’re following me.”

      “Who?”

      “My...never mind. I...look, I’ll be at the...at the—” She cleared her throat. “Cyrano’s. At Thunder River Casino. You know where it is, right? Eight o’clock tonight.” Muffled voices sounded in the background. “I have to go. I’ll be there. For an hour.”

      The dead line hummed over the speaker. Cash hit the button to end the call. Oh, yeah. He knew where the nightclub was all right. He stared at his cousin. “What’s your take on this?”

      Bridger lifted his shoulders and dropped them, his expression perplexed. “Your guess is as good as mine. I do find it interesting that we hit pay dirt with our search on her and she just happens to call. Out of the blue.”

      “Don’t trust coincidences?”

      “Nope.”

      “Neither do I.”

      “Then again, Cash, maybe we shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

      “Maybe. Maybe not.”

      “You’ll meet her?”

      Cash curled his lips into a sarcastic smile that didn’t reach his eyes but coated his voice. “What do you think? I mean, gift horse and all that.”

      “Yeah, I figured. I’ll arrange backup.”

      Backup was easy. Barron Security was the authority in casino operations, and in addition to the Barron family properties, they had contracts with most of the tribal entities in Oklahoma. Meaning they’d have their own security force in place at Thunder River.

      After Bridger walked out, Cash studied Roxanne’s

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