Chapters (73)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Prologue
- Part IAnnie
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Part IIHarry
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Part IIIAnnie
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Part IVHarry
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Part VAnnie
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Also by Linwood Barclay
- About the Publisher
There was another bolt of lightning and an almost simultaneous crack of thunder that felt more like an earthquake. Behind her, Annie had a sense the front hall lights had gone off. The storm had kicked out the electricity.
“Mrs. Patten!” Annie cried as the woman got closer. “Is something wrong?”
Dolores’s black pants and a gray button-up sweater that she had rolled up to her elbows were as soaked as if she had just come out of a pool, but she gave no indication that the rain was causing her any discomfort. She stopped about ten feet from the bottom of the porch steps.
“Come up here, get out of the rain!” Annie said.
She seemed not to hear. She looked at Charlie, then at Annie, and began to speak.
“What were you thinking?” she asked.
“I’m sorry?” Annie said.
“What were you thinking?”
“Please, get out of the rain.”
There was another flash, more thunder. Dolores did not move.
“For fuck’s sake,” Annie said under her breath, and stepped out from under the cover of the porch and closed the distance between herself and Dolores, the rain continuing to pelt down, drenching her almost instantly.
“What were you thinking?” the woman asked again, her voice pitched higher this time.
Annie put her arms around her, said, “Let’s get you home.” But Dolores twisted away from her, and this time raised her right arm and aimed it at Charlie, extending an accusing finger at him.
“What were you thinking?” she asked.
As thunder continued to rumble, Annie again tried to coax Dolores to turn around.
“Dolores!”
It was Daniel, running across the road, limping with each stride, as though moving his legs that quickly was causing him no small amount of pain. “Dolores!” he shouted a second time. “For God’s sake!”
He slipped his arms around her waist from behind when he reached her. She still had her arm extended, pointing at Charlie.
“Come on, honey,” he said, rivulets of water streaming down his face. “We’re going home.”
She turned and looked vacantly into his eyes, as though taking a moment to place him. “What were they thinking?” she asked him.
He got an arm around her shoulder, looked at a drenched Annie, and said, “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“She’s having one of her . . . spells. I’m so terribly sorry.”
“What can I do?” Annie asked.
Daniel shook his head. “Nothing. I just have to get her home.”
And with that, he escorted his wife back to their place. Annie, in no rush now to seek cover from the rain, stood and watched them go. Once they were safely across the road, she turned and mounted the steps to the porch, a troubled Charlie waiting for her.
“What’s wrong with her?” he asked.
“Her . . . mind. Dementia. She doesn’t always know where she is or who she’s talking to.”
Charlie did not ask for a further explanation.