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
He didn’t want to be overly intrusive. He decided he would just bring in all the goodies that needed to go into the fridge then wait on the porch for Annie and Charlie. He made two trips out to the Boxster, emptying the front trunk. He set the baked goods, like the cronuts and bagels, on the kitchen island where they couldn’t be missed. He made two small stacks of books. One for Annie, and one for Charlie.
He was heading for the front door when he heard something.
Chuffchuffchuffchuffchuffchuffchuff
What the holy fuck was that?
Whatever it was, it was coming from upstairs. He froze, held his breath, waiting for the sound to repeat.
Chuffchuffchuffchuffchuffchuffchuff
It was a noise that took him back. If he wasn’t mistaken, it sounded like a toy train he’d had as a kid. A Lionel train his father would set up around the tree at Christmas.
He had no business snooping around the house when no one was here, but then again, if that was a toy train, then maybe there was someone here, and they hadn’t heard him banging on the door earlier.
“Annie?” he called out. “Charlie? It’s Fin! I brought treats! You guys home?”
Chuffchuffchuffchuffchuffchuffchuff
Evidently not.
Finnegan found curiosity getting the better of him. He had to know what that sound was. He went slowly up the stairs, hand on the railing, and when he’d reached the second floor he stopped, not sure which way to go. The noise had stopped.
He went right, found what was clearly Charlie’s room. The Spider-Man bedspread, the Harry Potter posters on the wall. He returned to the top of the stairs and went the other way, poking his head into the master bedroom, and then he found the door to the studio.
Finnegan opened the door, stepped inside, and smiled.
There was the drafting table, set up just the way he’d asked for it to be. And from the looks of things, Annie had been doing some work. He walked over, looked at a drawing she was in the middle of, as well as a sculpted figure to match.
“Jesus, Annie,” he said aloud. “What the hell is this?”
A creature that looked like a cross between a rat and a wolf, but standing upright, like a person. Its eyes narrow and menacing, its teeth sharp.
“Annie, baby,” he said under his breath, “this is no Pierce the Penguin.”
He took in the rest of the room. On the floor was a miniature village made up of plastic building kits that Finnegan, again, thought he recognized from his childhood. Model train accessories.
But where was the train? Or the tracks?
Chuffchuffchuffchuffchuffchuffchuff
The noise seemed to be coming from the hall.
Finnegan went back out but didn’t see anything. Maybe the sound hadn’t been coming from upstairs, as he’d originally thought, but from the first floor, or even the basement.