LITMIR.BIZ

      To the wonderful crew at my publisher who pulled this series together – it’s been a real pleasure working with you all.

      And to my fellow authors: Marie Ferrarella, Gail Barrett, Cindy Dees, Nina Bruhns and Carla Cassidy – you guys are the best.

Prologue

      The Nevada night was hot—no air-conditioning.

      Lex clutched his teddy against his tummy even though it made him hotter, but he liked to hold his bear close when this particular TV program was on because sometimes the show made him scared. He was perched on the edge of his mom’s bed wearing only his jammie shorts while he watched. His mother sat farther up, by the pillows, emptying the fat brown envelope that the man brought once a month.

      Lex glanced at her during the commercial. She was counting out the cash onto the bed cover. His mom was always happy when the money came. She said it helped boost her croupier’s income from the casino. Tomorrow she’d take him to the burger place for a special kids meal with a toy. It was their routine the day after the envelope arrived. Lex hoped that maybe when he turned six she’d take him to the steak house instead, where the chef cooked over big orange flames. He didn’t need toys in his meal anymore, but he didn’t want to tell her and hurt her feelings. He loved his mom. She was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen, too.

      She caught him watching and smiled. He grinned back, getting that silly squeeze in his chest. But before he could turn back to his TV show, there was a crash downstairs in the hall. His mother tensed.

      That made Lex scared.

      A man’s voice reached up the stairs. “Where’s the kid, Sara!”

      His mother’s face went sheet-white. She pressed her index finger over her lips, telling Lex to stay quiet. Then she quickly gathered the money, reached for her purse and removed a small gun. Lex stared at it. His heart started to beat really fast. He clutched Mr. Teddy tighter.

      “Where’s the damn kid, Sara?” The voice—rough and raspy like Velcro tearing—was coming up the stairs. “He wants the boy!”

      Lex’s mother took his arm, dragged him to the closet. She got down to his eye level, grasped his shoulders tight. “Lexington, ” she whispered. She only called him Lexington when something was very serious, or he’d done something very wrong. “You get in that closet, d’you hear? Get in right behind the clothes. No matter what, do not move. Do not come out—”

      “Sara!”

      She shoved him quickly into the dark closet, shut the door, locked it. Lex peered through the louvered slats, but he could only see the bottom half of the room because of the way the slats were angled. He saw his mother’s hand grabbing the telephone next to her bed.

      The bedroom door crashed back against the wall. His mother screamed, aimed her gun at the man with one hand, holding the phone in her other. “Stay back! I’m calling the cops.” She started to dial.

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