BooksBarbecue
Back Whistle
Chapters (73)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Prologue
  4. Part I Annie
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Part II Harry
  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 III Annie
  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 IV Harry
  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 V Annie
  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

“Dolores and me, we’ve lived in that house since 1961. That’s . . .” and he paused, doing the math in his head, “. . . sixty-three years. Built that house with my father when I was eighteen. He was a carpenter, built houses all around these parts. And I worked with him since the time I was twelve. When I was seventeen, I met this girl.”

He smiled, and a web of creases spread out from both eyes. He gave her a sly look. “We were young and kind of stupid, and I guess if we’d both known more we wouldn’t have got into the situation we did. Dolores kinda got pregnant.” He grinned at his choice of words. “I guess there’s no ‘kinda.’ You either are or you aren’t.”

Annie smiled. “That’s been my experience.”

“So the pressure was on that we get married, and while Dolores’s folks were ready to disown her, my mom and dad were more what you’d call supportive. Dad said we need to build you a house, and he bought that parcel of land over there.” He pointed a long, bony finger at his place. “Your place was here. It’d been here a long time. Not fixed up nice the way it is now, updated and all. That fellow that lived here and his wife—they were both photographers of some sort—did some upgrades, but I think I’m wandering off topic here.”

“Take your time.”

“Me and Dolores got married right away and lived at my folks, and by the time she was ready to have the baby the house was done. Moved in, been here ever since.” He suddenly looked proud, his chest swelling. “That’s our house and it always will be.”

But just as quickly his eyes seemed to mist over. He gazed out over the yard, not really focusing on anything.

“Dolores’d mostly been what you might call a stay-at-home mom, but she’d always been one to take the odd job here and there. For some time there, she baked out of the home and they sold her cakes and pastries at a place in Fenelon. She liked that. When our kids were in high school she got work at the IGA, cashier mostly. And she’d do housecleaning for folks. She wasn’t proud. When the folks that lived here asked if she’d do that for them, I said, hey, do you really want to clean house for your neighbors? And she said, what are you talking about? You think they’re better than us? A dollar’s a dollar. I didn’t have any argument for that. So that’s what she did. Cleaned over here once a week for about three months before it happened.”

Annie tensed, feeling that he was working up to something, but said nothing.