BooksBarbecue
Back Whistle
Chapters (73)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Prologue
  4. Part IAnnie
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Part IIHarry
  13. Eight
  14. Nine
  15. Ten
  16. Eleven
  17. Twelve
  18. Thirteen
  19. Fourteen
  20. Fifteen
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-One
  27. Part IIIAnnie
  28. Twenty-Two
  29. Twenty-Three
  30. Twenty-Four
  31. Twenty-Five
  32. Twenty-Six
  33. Twenty-Seven
  34. Twenty-Eight
  35. Twenty-Nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-One
  38. Thirty-Two
  39. Part IVHarry
  40. Thirty-Three
  41. Thirty-Four
  42. Thirty-Five
  43. Thirty-Six
  44. Thirty-Seven
  45. Thirty-Eight
  46. Thirty-Nine
  47. Forty
  48. Forty-One
  49. Forty-Two
  50. Forty-Three
  51. Forty-Four
  52. Forty-Five
  53. Forty-Six
  54. Forty-Seven
  55. Forty-Eight
  56. Part VAnnie
  57. Forty-Nine
  58. Fifty
  59. Fifty-One
  60. Fifty-Two
  61. Fifty-Three
  62. Fifty-Four
  63. Fifty-Five
  64. Fifty-Six
  65. Fifty-Seven
  66. Fifty-Eight
  67. Fifty-Nine
  68. Sixty
  69. Sixty-One
  70. Acknowledgments
  71. About the Author
  72. Also by Linwood Barclay
  73. About the Publisher

Annie went back out into the hall, making a brief comment as she passed the bathroom—“I suppose he could have come up here”—and then entered the studio. The room was filled with light. Standish looked impressed.

“What a great place to work,” she said. She pointed to the drafting table. “That’s yours, of course.”

“Yes.”

“And that’s quite something,” Standish said.

Annie saw that she was looking at the train layout on the floor. “That’s Charlie’s setup.”

“He’s made a little town and everything.”

They both stood there, neither speaking, until Standish finally asked, “So, you see anything different in here? Something Mr. Sproule might have left for you? Something that’s not like it was before?”

“Nothing.”

Although that wasn’t entirely true. She did see one thing, but it hardly seemed worth mentioning to the officer.

There was a break in the loop of track. Two sections had come apart from each other. If the train were to be engaged, it would derail. And the wheels of the red boxcar, the one from which Annie had imagined seeing all those spiders emerge, were off the track.

Outside, Charlie pedaled his bicycle.

He went around and around and around the backyard. Pumping his legs as hard as they would go. Lap after lap after lap. Sweat running down his forehead and stinging his eyes. But neither that, nor the pain he felt in his calves and thighs, would slow him down.

His mother’s friend’s accident was a terrible, terrible thing. But it was also a sign. Things were coming to a head. Charlie had to be ready. He knew he would have to go soon.

I’m coming, Dad.

Thirty

Annie had made up her mind for real, this time. She and Charlie were going home.

For all she knew, given what had happened today, he’d be ready to pack up and get the hell out of here, too. But she wasn’t going to spring her decision on him until the following day, not until she was ready to put all their stuff into the car and hit the road.

Annie had spent the rest of the day, after Finnegan’s body had been removed and the police had departed, dealing with the fallout. She first made calls to people Finnegan worked with in the publishing office, but it was getting late in the day and many had left. But she had several email addresses, and sent out a joint communiqué, explaining that Finnegan had come up to see her and that there had been a terrible accident.