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
Charlie pounced on the meal, shoveling pancakes and eggs and hash browns and sausages into his mouth like it was the last meal he’d ever have. It was, he concluded, the best meal he’d eaten in his entire life. He sucked down the milkshake so quickly he got a brain freeze, and had to wait a moment for it to pass before he continued.
When he had finished everything, he felt gloriously full and ready to continue on his journey.
While he was wiping his mouth with a paper napkin, he noticed the waitress talking to the man behind the cash register. He had a feeling they were talking about him, because they kept glancing in his direction while trying to act like they were not looking in his direction. Charlie knew they were probably starting to wonder just how bad his mother’s constipation might be, and whether they should call an ambulance for her.
And then he thought, no, that wasn’t what was going on. If they were worried about his mom, the waitress could have gone into the ladies’ room and asked if she was okay, and then they’d know that there was no mom.
The man nodded to the waitress and picked up the phone next to the register.
The waitress came over to his table, and for the first time was smiling sweetly. “How was everything?” she asked.
“It was really good,” Charlie said. “Please give my compliments to the chef.”
“I’ll be sure to do that. Shall I finally bring your mom’s toast and coffee now?”
“Uh, you know, I don’t think she’s even going to want it.”
The waitress nodded, glanced back at the man on the register, who gave her a nod. “Well, why don’t you take your time, let your food settle, and I’ll come back in a minute in case there’s anything else you want.”
“Okay,” Charlie said.
He might only be a kid, but he had a feeling something was going on. And that feeling was confirmed when he looked out the window and saw a police car turning into the parking lot.
He didn’t know exactly how much his meal was going to cost, so he put everything he had on the table and slid out of the booth, grabbing his backpack as he did so.
The waitress, taking an order at another table, spotted him and called out anxiously, “Can I get you something?”
“I’m going to the bathroom!” he said, and as it turned out he could have benefited from the visit, but was afraid if he took the time he wouldn’t be able to get away before the police came into the restaurant.
There had to be a back way out.