BooksBarbecue
Back Look Both Ways
Chapters (57)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Foreword
  4. Prologue
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Thirty-Three
  38. Thirty-Four
  39. Thirty-Five
  40. Thirty-Six
  41. Thirty-Seven
  42. Thirty-Eight
  43. Thirty-Nine
  44. Forty
  45. Forty-One
  46. Forty-Two
  47. Forty-Three
  48. Forty-Four
  49. Forty-Five
  50. Forty-Six
  51. Forty-Seven
  52. Forty-Eight
  53. Forty-Nine
  54. Fifty
  55. Praise for Linwood Barclay
  56. Also by Linwood Barclay
  57. About the Publisher

“Oh my, no,” Lillian said.

One foot was shoeless. On the other there remained a mangled, pink strappy sandal.

Lillian took a breath. She recognized the green toenails, that pink sandal.

Daniella.

Lillian kept any further screams tightly bottled up inside her throat. If the car really had heard her, she didn’t want it hearing her now.

She pulled back on the wheels, her arms throbbing with pain.

Squeak.

The car stopped at the base of the driveway. It sat there, sideways. Listening.

Lillian, using every ounce of strength she could muster, had backed up more than twenty feet. She was at the house.

She took several seconds to catch her breath. Her throat was dry and parched. She desperately needed a glass of water. Just as soon as she got in the house. She’d wheel herself up to the kitchen tap, and even if she couldn’t reach the cupboards for a glass, she’d grab a pot from one of the lower cabinets and drink out of that if she had to.

She suddenly had an uncontrollable tickle in her throat. She tried to gather together some spit, to swallow, to do anything she could to not—

Cough.

The second she coughed, the car’s front wheels turned toward the drive. The Arrival, with Daniella’s body trapped beneath, sensed her, a hyena with its nose to the wind.

Lillian realized she had only seconds to get into the house. Then it hit her what had to be done to accomplish that.

She had to roll herself up the ramp.

The fucking ramp.

Twenty-One

“Goddamn it!” Sandra said. “Pick up!”

Why weren’t the kids answering their phones?

Using Lisa Carver’s cell, Sandra had tried to raise Archie, then Katie, and struck out both times. She was this close to slipping into panic mode. Crazy cars were knocking people off left, right, and center and she couldn’t get hold of the kids.

But panic was not an option. She needed to keep a clear head. If she could manage to do that nine months earlier, when the police knocked on her door to tell her there’d been an accident, she could do it.

Even in the midst of all this current chaos—the burning fire truck, the Arrivals acting like a pack of wolves, Lisa Carver dead and missing a leg—her mind went back to that night.