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
“It’s like he’s getting rid of the evidence,” Charlie said.
Not him, Annie thought. The sliver, whatever it is. It’s stepped in to clean up after him.
“I don’t think anyone’s going to be coming to put that out,” Annie said.
And just as well. Let it all burn. Let it all burn to the ground.
She got Charlie settled into the backseat. For a moment, she thought about letting him sit up front with her, so she could reach over and touch him and squeeze his knee, even though airbag deployments were said to be risky for a child his age, figuring if they could survive what they’d just been through, they could survive anything.
But her motherly instinct overruled her. Now was not the time to take chances. They’d come this far, don’t fuck it up now.
“Are we going back to that place?” Charlie asked.
“No, sweetheart. We’re going home.”
Not that there wasn’t some unfinished business back there in Fenelon. She’d have to let Standish know she’d found her son. She’d need a good story to explain how she knew where to look, and why he had run away. But she was a writer. She’d use her imagination, come up with something good. Wait for that pane of glass to materialize.
It was a noisy drive, what with the back window gone, so Annie drove with a light foot. She wanted to be able to hear Charlie over any wind noise.
At one point, Charlie asked, “Mom, did all these things really happen?”
She wasn’t sure how to answer, because she wasn’t sure herself. “I think so, but it might be best if we never told anyone else about it. It’s our story. But I’ll tell you one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Your dad’s so proud of you.”
“You mean, he would be proud of me?” Charlie said.
She smiled. “Both.”
They were quiet for a long time. Charlie had his eyes closed for a while, and Annie hoped he would be spared any nightmares. But they were coming. She knew they’d be inevitable.
When they got onto an interstate heading south back to New York, Charlie stirred and broke the silence. He had a question he’d been wanting to ask his mother for some time.
“Mom,” he said tentatively.
“Yeah?”
“When we get home, and everything kind of settles down . . .”
“Yes?”
“Could you get me a decent bike?”
She looked at him in the mirror and smiled. “No,” she said.
Charlie didn’t think it was worth arguing about. At least not now. Maybe after a couple of weeks. There’d be plenty of time to work on her then.
Daniel thought he smelled smoke.