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By Linwood Barclay

Hailed as “a suspense master” through Stephen King, Linwood Barclay now finds the darkish aspect of a small town—and the even darker secrets and techniques that disguise there...

It’s been months considering that inner most investigator Cal Weaver’s teenage son Scott died in a sad twist of fate. Ever seeing that, he and his spouse have drifted aside, fracturing a as soon as basic existence. Cal is mired in grief, a grief he can’t movement previous. and perhaps his grief has clouded his judgment. simply because riding domestic one evening, he makes his first mammoth mistake.

A lady sopping wet in rain faucets on his motor vehicle window and asks for a trip as he sits at a stoplight. even if he is familiar with a fortysomething guy opting for up a teenage hitchhiker is a idiot, he we could her in. She’s a similar age as Scott, and perhaps she will support Cal locate the broker who offered his son the medicine that killed him. After a short cease at a roadside diner, Cal senses that something’s now not correct with the woman or the location. yet it’s too past due. He’s already involved.

Now Cal is drawn right into a nightmare of soreness and suspicion. whatever is horribly unsuitable within the small city of Griffon in upstate big apple. There are too many secrets and techniques there, too many lies and cover-ups. And Cal has determined to reveal these secrets and techniques one via one.

That’s his moment enormous mistake.

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Additional info for A Tap on the Window

Sample text

She wore a royal blue blouse with a darker blue skirt. Her fair hair was tied up inside a black scarf and she wore dark tinted stockings with black shoes, medium heels. I made all these professional observations as I was negotiating my way behind my desk. She looked directly at me and took off her large-lensed sunglasses to reveal eyes hollowed by lack of sleep. ‘First off, Cliff,’ she said. ’ ‘Forget it,’ I said. ’ She smiled and her oval face suddenly became longer and more attractive. She wasn’t beautiful, but she had something much more important.

Interesting choice of word. I opened the door and stepped in. She was staring at a screen as her fingers flicked over the keys. Normal enough, except that she was standing up, and the remote control keyboard was sitting on top of a bookcase at waist height. She inclined her long, narrow head at a chair that just fitted into the available space. Somehow it seemed wrong to sit and I closed the door behind me and leaned back against it. She looked annoyed. Her fingers became a blur and she completed whatever she was doing.

They drove off in a car the witness couldn’t identify. The descriptions are useless—medium this, ordinary that. You know. ’ ‘Who knows? Connected to the job at the casino? Or some case he was working on or had worked on? We’ve got good people on it, believe me, but so far there’s nothing. ’ I kept busy and tried to forget that look in Gina Galvani’s blue eyes. The jobs trickled in and I did them and paid bills with the proceeds. Financially, I was treading water and I sometimes felt that I was doing the same in my relationship with Glen.

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