Ferris wasn’t quite sure how he made it through the morning. By lunch, all he could recall was a flurry of requests, bleary phone calls, and pages of spreadsheets. The profit and loss statement he had prepared Sunday night needed revision and his supervisor had already lined up a...

A clatter in the living room woke Ferris with a start. Images of dirt, bare feet, and car trunks dissipated as every sense in his body centered on the bedroom door. He reached for the nightstand, aiming the handgun that rested beside the alarm clock. His heart raced, churned,...