1 (2010)

Prologue:

Deanna and Samantha swig from a bottle as they barrel- ass down a dark country road. Deanna cranks the tunes. Deanna smiles and lays back into the Impala's passenger seat. All is right with the world. How long till we get there? Samantha asked. Denna casts a sidewards glance at Samantha. Dude, you're my personal Garmin, figure it out. Deanna smiles, she loves making Samantha feel like the little sister.

But Samantha doesn't respond.

You're my co-pilot. Just without the uniform.

No answer.

Samantha? You in there? When are we going to get there? Deanna asks, a flicker of concern on her face. Samantha turns toward Deanna.

We'll never get there, Deanna. It's over. All over. I'm gone.

Deanna woke with a start. Her flailing arm hit the quartter-full glass of Scotch on the bedside table. A brown spot on the cream- colored rug widened to a stain. Crap. Hefting herself up off the bed Deanna reached for the towel that was draped over the chair by the window.

But as her feet hit the ground, the sheets wrapped around her ankles, impeding her progress. Tied and tripped up, she landed on her face. Perfect, another kick-ass way to start the day, Deanna, she muttered to herself. The bedroom door creaked open. Deanna studied the pair of feet sporting nicely painted spots shoes that moved into her eyeline. She looked up. Elijah Summer's stood over her with a pitying smile on his face. Deanna had grown quite accustomed to the expression that she induced almost every time they spoke. It was the same face Deanna was met when six weeks ago she showed up on his doorstep, after God knows how many years.

They hadn't been serious, it was just a couple of dates, years ago. But Deanna and Samantha had come to his rescue when his housing development had been taken over by a serious case of deadly child- nappers.

Nice to see you made it this far out of bed today. That's farther than any day this week. Bleary eyed, Deanna nodded. This is her life.