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

Kyle was already on his knees, and he worked out the physics in his head in the time it would take a Gandalf sat-nav system to figure out the number of miles between Houston and Topeka. Travers was a small man. Five-two, probably no more than one hundred and thirty pounds. All Kyle had to do was give the man a little boost.

Kyle threw his arms around the man’s knees, locked them, then, with everything he had, he pistoned his own legs upward.

All in less than a second.

Travers’s torso shot upward. By the time he realized what was happening, he was too far up to grab the railing. When the man’s upper thigh was level with the top of the railing, Kyle tipped him forward.

And off he sailed. Two seconds in the air before he went into the sea. If Travers made a sound, the roar of the ferry’s massive engines and the wind drowned them out.

Kyle spun around, his heart hammering in his chest.

As he struggled to catch his breath, for his pulse to drop back to the speed limit, he listened and waited.

There were no shouts of “Man overboard!” No alarms were sounded. The ferry did not slow down.

Once he’d calmed himself down, he went back to the upper deck. Time to rejoin the party.

Six

Sandra had to admit, it was a bit of a kick.

Sitting in the back of the car, reviewing her notes, taking a final look at the press kits, all while Gracie did the driving. She leaned back in the seat, closed her eyes, and took a deep, cleansing breath. At times like this, when she was particularly stressed—and she was always stressed after breakfast with her kids, even on days when her entire career wasn’t at stake—she wished she’d enrolled in one of those relaxation courses, or mindfulness, or yoga, or something that would teach her how to let all the tension flow out of her. Back in her teens, she’d thought that was what drugs and alcohol were for.

Sandra Montrose had weaned herself from that coping strategy once she got a little older, and especially after she’d had kids. Back in the day, she and Adam had sure known how to party, and booze and drugs weren’t the only highs that kept them going. Those were some wild days. Sitting on the back of the Harley, holding on to Adam for dear life, going across the country, never knowing where they’d be spending the night, not giving a rat’s ass about what the next day would bring. Sometimes, she’d take the reins and he’d sit behind her on the bike, and when he got his hands in just the right places, well, that, along with straddling all that horsepower, it was all you could do to concentrate on the road ahead of you.