*Starred Review* Not that we needed any further proof, after the superb King of Lies (2008) and Down River (2007), but Hart once again demonstrates that he is a remarkable storyteller. Somebody has abducted Johnny Merrimon's twin sister, Alyssa. Thirteen-year-old Johnny hasn't been able to let her go, and even now, a year later, he is still scouring his North Carolina town, looking in every dark place, in the belief that his sister may still be alive and close by. Keeping an eye on Johnny, while fighting his own personal demons, is Clyde Hunt, the police detective who's spent the last year working the case, even as his marriage and career have crumbled around him. When they discover the truth, they find that it's something darker and more frightening than either of them could have imagined. Hart once again produces a novel that is elegant, haunting, and memorable. His characters are given an emotional depth that genre characters seldom have, and the graceful, evocative prose lifts his stories right out of their genre and into the realm of capital-L literature. A must-read for every variety of fiction reader.--Pitt, David Copyright 2009 Booklist

A year after 12-year-old Alyssa Merrimon disappeared on her way home from the library in an unnamed rural North Carolina town, her twin brother, Johnny, continues to search the town, street by street, even visiting the homes of known sex offenders, in this chilling novel from Edgar-winner Hart (Down River). Det. Clyde Hunt, the lead cop on Alyssa's case, keeps a watchful eye on Johnny and his mother, who has deteriorated since Alyssa's abduction and her husband's departure soon afterward. When a second girl is snatched, Johnny is even more determined to find his sister, convinced that the perpetrator is the same person who took Alyssa. But what he unearths is more sinister than anyone imagined, sending shock waves through the community and putting Johnny's own life in danger. Despite a tendency to dip into melodrama, Hart spins an impressively layered tale of broken families and secrets that can kill. 175,000 first printing; author tour. (May) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

In his third novel, Edgar-winner Hart (Down River, 2007, etc.) confronts murder, depravity, betrayal and the like, while still finding room for tenderness. Young Johnny Merrimon carries a detailed map of his Raven County, N.C., home and rides his bike in strict accordance with it, knocking on certain doors, bypassing others, but always watching. One year ago, his twin sister was kidnapped. By now, of course, conventional wisdom presumes her dead, but Johnny won't let go. Neither will Detective Clyde Hunt, who's paying a severe price for what some call an obsession. His wife has left him; his relationship with his teenaged son is getting less than the attention it requires; and even his career has been jeopardized. His boss, the chief of police, has begun to wonder aloud if Hunt has let the Merrimon case become unduly personal. Hunt denies this, claiming it's the terrible, tragic case alone that absorbs him. But the fact is that he likes Johnny enormously. He's drawn to the boy's grit and tenacity. As for Johnny's beautiful, grief-stricken mother, Hunt acknowledges to himself that he'd best tread carefully there. Then another little girl is kidnapped, and when murder follows murder, with more murder in the wings, it's as if Pandora's Box has sprung open. Appealingly character-driven, particularly by 13-year-old Johnny, who's full of likeable traces of Huck Finn. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Love her or loathe her, Libby Day won't be forgotten without a fight. The embittered antiheroine of Gillian Flynn's nerve-fraying thriller, DARK PLACES (Shaye Areheart, $24), Libby comes by her cynicism fair and square. When she was 7, her 15-year-old brother, Ben, took an ax to her mother and two older sisters, and, 24 years later, the girl the tabloids called "the Lone Survivor of the Prairie Massacre" is still seething with anger over everything she lost. Not that family life was all that nurturing in the impoverished Day household, what with a deadbeat dad running the farm into the ground before taking off and a mother so overwhelmed she just gave up. "I have a meanness inside me, real as an organ," Libby confesses. An admitted liar and thief, she's a champion slacker who takes pride in the antisocial behavior that has become her default defense posture: "I was raised feral, and I mostly stayed that way." Fueling Libby's resentment, the "Baby Day" trust fund that has kept her in cigarettes and out of the work force is about to-dry up. Not knowing what she's letting herself in for, she accepts an invitation to appear at the Kill Club, an underground organization for enthusiasts of infamous criminal cases - only to discover that these ghoulish fans, who believe Ben to be innocent, expect her to help them prove it. Cash in hand, Libby grits her teeth and reopens communication with everyone who figured in the case, including her imprisoned brother and their worthless father. Once she starts examining the massacre from an adult perspective, Libby finds that the profit motive is less of an incentive than her desire to know the truth, which Flynn shrewdly doles out in vivid flashbacks that lead up to the killings. If there's a conscious theme here, it has to do with children who cause "something to happen, something that got bigger than they were" and the chaos that follows when no responsible adults are around. But the term "prairie massacre" might also apply to the destruction of the rural Midwest, captured by the strip clubs, bankrupt malls, abandoned homesteads and other scenes of surpassing ugliness that assault Libby's eyes as she travels the Interstate to her brother's prison, now the major industry in a depressed farm town that once called itself the "Heart of America." Spotting a spiffy new sign with the same old slogan, Libby wryly notes that the locals are still "sticking with the lie." Nobody can teach George Pelecanos anything he doesn't already know about the inherent drama in the father-son dynamic - except, perhaps, a dramatist like Arthur Miller or August Wilson. That thought comes from reading THE WAY HOME (Little, Brown, $24.99), which feels like a crime novel that wants to be something else - a play, if not a movie. There's more character work than action in this sweetly sad narrative about a decent man, Thomas Flynn, who can't figure out how to deal with his teenage son, Chris, when the boy dumps sports and schoolwork to take up marijuana and mischief, becoming so destructive that he pulls a stretch in a juvenile correction facility. After taking his sympathetic portrayal of the father-son standoff as far as it can go, Pelecanos remembers that he needs to work some serious crime into the story. Dutifully, he cooks up a moral challenge for the adult Chris, now so fully reformed that he's laying carpet for his father's company and dating a girl his family actually likes. But the device Pelecanos engineers - the discovery of a gym bag with nearly $50,000 in cash - is too tame to support the violence that follows. In the end, we'd rather be back at the beginning, when father and son were at each other's throats. In the rural North Carolina town where John Hart sets THE LAST CHILD (St. Martin's Minotaur, $24.95), a fatherless boy is a pitiful sight. Everyone feels awful about 13-year-old Johnny Merrimon, whose father fled in despair only two weeks after Johnny's twin sister was kidnapped. The detective on the case feels worse about Johnny's fragile mother, who seems to welcome the abuse of the vile rich man who now supports her. In the absence of any tangible police investigation (Hart is cavalier about forensic procedures), Johnny takes it on himself to canvass the entire county on his bike, conscientiously noting potential pedophiles on tax maps. The story is a good one, and Johnny stands out from the clichéd characters around him. But borrowing from "Huck Finn" doesn't turn Hart into Mark Twain, and his methodical writing style plods along these Southern roads without kicking up anything but dust. Somebody's got to defend all those grown-ups who were once naughty boys and girls, and Maggie Estep and Seth Harwood are perfect for the job. Estep champions outlaws and outcasts like the title character of ALICE FANTASTIC (Akashic, paper, $15.95), a race-track handicapper who lives in Queens with a "trailer trash dog" named Candy and a criminally clumsy boyfriend named Clayton. Harwood has a soft spot for losers like Jack Palms, a one-hit movie star who grabs his chance to get back in the game in JACK WAKES UP (Three Rivers, paper, $13.95) when a San Francisco hustler asks him to play the role of a man-about-town for some visiting gangsters on a drug buy. Neither author seems to give a hoot about plot logistics, and both Alice and Jack allow themselves to be swept up by events. But in these two books, the storytelling has vitality and a spirit of rebellion, giving us hope for the future of all those bad girls with dirty faces and bad boys on bikes. 'I have a meanness inside me, real as an organ,' the embittered narrator of Gillian Flynn's novel confesses.

Adult/High School-Thirteen-year-old Johnny searches for his twin sister who disappeared a year earlier while also mourning the loss of his guilt-ridden father and trying to cope with his mother's abusive boyfriend. Parallel to the rapidly unfolding events is an intriguing and adrenaline-rich mystery that unfolds through Clyde Hunt, lead police detective in Johnny's North Carolina town. Hart develops both characters fully and credibly and brings to life a cast of supporting actors that includes Johnny's depressed and drugged mother and his best friend. The climate and history of the place offer both clues and a well-delineated setting for the plot, giving readers a "you are there" sensibility and an appreciation for how the past creates the present in both evil and good ways. Hart's writing is rich and flowing. Teens looking for adventure, and a story in which a kid shows himself to be smarter than most of the adults around him, will find this novel wholly satisfying.-Francisca Goldsmith, Halifax Public Libraries, Nova Scotia (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

When 12-year-old Alyssa Merrimon disappeared a year ago, her family fell apart. Her twin brother, Johnny, became obsessed with trying to find her, their father took off, not to be heard from again, and their mother sank into a world of drugs and booze, helped along by an abusive, wealthy boyfriend. Det. Clive Hunt is also obsessed, both with finding Alyssa and with her mother, and his preoccupation costs him his marriage and jeopardizes his job. But this is Johnny's story and his quest to find the sister he lost. Taking his mother's car while she's passed out and occasionally taking along his best friend, Jack, Johnny spies and keeps meticulous records on the townsfolk of small Raven County, NC. The world is a dark place when seen through his eyes, and Johnny is an unforgettable character in this finely drawn yet disturbing thriller. With his best novel yet, the Edgar Award-winning Hart (Down River) firmly cements his place alongside the greats of the genre. Highly recommended for all public libraries. [175,000-copy first printing; library marketing.]-Stacy Alesi, Palm Beach Cty. Lib. Syst., Boca Raton, FL (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.