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

He crawled the remaining distance to the creek and first washed the dirt from his hands, then cupped water in his palms and threw it up into his open eyes. He did it four times, blinking between each splash.

The stinging dissipated.

Sitting on his haunches, he looked upward into the cathedral of towering trees, and in that moment of tranquility, he felt the rage building within him.

Sure, things had gone well. Arrival was finished. Its CEO was dead.

But then Derek lost the boat. Refused to find another one so that Kyle could make his escape.

Then he had lucked into—lucked, ha!—that man and the girl in the Cadillac. Could that have gone any worse for him?

Had he actually hurt them? The old man or the girl? No, he had not. And he could have. Oh yes, if he’d wanted to he could have shot them both and taken the car. But no, he hadn’t done that, and what thanks did he get?

Near blindness and a kick in the gut.

The rage churned within him.

If he couldn’t get off this fucking island, he could still use his time productively. He could settle scores. He could get even.

Derek was probably still biding his time at the yacht club. Maybe it was time to go back and thank him for all his years of service.

And then there was the girl.

Katie.

If only he knew her last name, he could—

Hang on.

Her mother. She’d asked him about her mother, if she’d been hurt when the cars first started spinning out of control. Katie had said her mother was helping out with the Arrival event.

She was the one who’d handed him his press kit. Kyle remembered now.

Montrose. Sandra Montrose.

Katie Montrose.

Now that he could see again, he reached into his pocket for his phone, hoping to God he hadn’t lost it in the fall. No, he had it. He brushed the dirt off the screen, thumbed the home button. The phone lit up.

“Yes,” he said.

He wanted an address. And once he’d found it, he’d go back and see if he could find where the old man had pitched that gun into the woods.

Forty-One

Something was troubling Sandra.

Actually, there were a whole lot of things troubling Sandra, not the least of which was this damn bicycle she was riding. The seat was too high and had a rip in the leather that was cutting into her butt. The handlebars were too low and her feet kept slipping off the pedals, one of which was broken. The next time Joe stole a bike, he needed to steal a better one than this.

And of course, a skirt was not the best thing to wear when riding a two-wheeler.