The Edge

Devine was about to agree, but then what he had thought about before came back to him.

But they weren’t all the same sniper stuff, were they? Am I wrong about it being Benjamin Bing? Or I am wrong thinking he’s the only one? If my theory is correct on how Earl was murdered, a second person is probably involved.

He came out of these musings and said, “After I convinced her that her grandfather was murdered, Annie Palmer gave me permission to search Earl’s cottage.”

Harper perked up at this. “Find anything?”

Devine told him about the video of Wilbur Kingman’s funeral service.

“Ben Bing was sitting right next to Earl. And he was talking to him about something. And Earl did not seem pleased.”

“He wasn’t pleased about anything that day,” retorted Harper. “The man he’d worked with every day for decades was dead! And—”

Devine cut in. “Did you know Bing was in the Army?”

“Sure, he didn’t hide his light under a bushel.”

“But did you also know he trained as a sniper in the Army?”

Harper flinched. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“Well, now you do.”

A troubled-looking Harper said, “Um, well, you have a good night.” He added, “And please don’t get shot at, or kill anybody. I want to go to sleep at a decent time tonight and not wake up until morning.”

He rolled his window back up, and Devine started to do the same with his window. But he caught himself staring at the side panel of the police cruiser. A few moments later the cruiser pulled away, but not before Devine quickly took a picture of it with his phone.

On his phone he pulled up one of the satellite photos that Jenny Silkwell had obtained. The small pyramid shape that the satellite had captured had puzzled Devine to no end. But not anymore.

Unless he was much mistaken, Devine believed it was the end of the arrow point that the eagle was clutching in its claws — the symbol of the Putnam, Maine, police department.

The car that the Palmers saw driving away from where Alex had been attacked was a cop car.

And Devine was pretty sure he knew who had been driving it.

Chapter 74

The gates to the bing mansion opened as Devine approached them. He slid past in the old truck and geared down as he went up a slight rise to the house. He could hear the ocean roaring in the rear of the property as the tide pushed closer. He looked up and saw another cluster of black clouds heading in.

He parked and got out, and used a lull in the rain to make it to the front door without getting drenched.

Guillaume answered his knock. She wore a navy blue pantsuit with tiny white pinstripes, and a white open-collared blouse. She seemed cheery and relaxed, which put Devine even more on alert.

“I thought a place this big would have a butler,” he said.

She smiled at his quip. “We run a lean operation, but we do have a maid service three times a week and someone to look after the grounds. But I like to cook. However, if I don’t, we go out or just do leftovers.”

“‘We’? You mean you and Fred?”

“Yes. Please, come in.”

She led Devine through a spacious foyer into a substantial great room with ceilings that seemed nearly high enough for him to parachute from. A roaring fire blazed away in a fireplace nearly as tall as he was. The furnishings were unique enough to suggest they had been custom-built. There seemed to have been no expense spared in both building and furnishing the place.

Devine wondered why Guillaume’s father had bothered dropping so much money on such a grand residence in a place like Putnam, Maine.

Guillaume seemed to be reading his mind because she said, “He wanted to rub their faces in it, of course.”

Devine nodded. “Okay. And what do you think about that?”

“I wouldn’t have done it. But then I didn’t have a say in the matter. Would you like a drink? I opened a nice red.”

“I’m more partial to beer if you have it.”

She got their drinks and they settled into seats in front of the fire.

“Dinner won’t be long. It’s a crockpot stew. Hearty fare on a cold, rainy night.”

“Sounds good. Will Fred will be joining us?”

“He had some things to finish up. He should be here shortly.”

“He works hard, I take it.”

“Yes, he does. Running a small business is more than a full-time job.”

“But you juggle lots of balls, too.”

“I suppose it runs in the family.”

Okay, chitchat done. Let’s get to it, thought Devine. He wanted to get back to Alex as quickly as possible.

“You wanted to talk about something?” he said. “Insights?”

She lowered her wineglass and looked alarmed that her turn on the stage had come perhaps sooner than she had expected or wanted.

“Yes, that’s right,” she began.

“Well, I’m happy to listen to whatever you can tell me that might be helpful.”