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
She had to hand it to him. The chrome wheels and spokes that had been so rusty and grimy sparkled. There were still places on the frame where the paint was chipped or cancered with rust, but for a bike that had to be decades old, it wasn’t bad. And if it bothered Charlie that it was a girl’s bike, he showed no sign.
“I’m impressed.”
“I used all the Brasso,” he said.
“Not surprised.”
“I’ve been riding around and around the house. I’ve already done it twenty-two times.”
“You getting ready for the Tour de France?”
“The what?’
“You’re a sweaty mess.”
“I’m building up my enema.”
Annie stifled a laugh. “Stamina.”
“Yeah, that.”
“And why do you have to build up your stamina?”
Charlie hesitated. “Just in case I ever had to ride somewhere far one day.”
Seven
They had a quiet evening.
Annie opened up a jar of spaghetti sauce in the cupboard, warmed it on the stove, and slid some fettucine noodles into a pot of boiling water. A sprinkle of Parmesan, and voilà, world’s simplest dinner. Charlie was at that age where he would take some cooked noodles—buttered or with tomato sauce—over just about any other food, and on this particular night Annie was content with the same.
After dinner they watched some TV. Charlie was right, the channels were all in different places than in the city, and there weren’t nearly as many of them here, but the house was still equipped with wi-fi and there was always streaming. They watched Galaxy Quest, which had been one of John’s favorite movies because it was such a great send-up of the whole Star Trek franchise, but Charlie took it at face value, as an exciting science fiction adventure with a few laughs. When Alan Rickman, in full alien garb, announces after a harrowing encounter with another spaceship that he’s off to find the pub, Annie cracked up. It had been John’s favorite line.
Uncharacteristically, Charlie turned down his mother’s offer of a story, claiming to be too tired. And within seconds of tucking him in, Annie peered through a crack in the doorway and could see that he was out cold.
She tidied up the kitchen, watched Anderson Cooper on CNN, and when that was over she was ready for an early turn-in. But on her way to her bedroom she went back into the studio to take another look at what she had drawn that afternoon.