The Edge

Small talk over, she took a sip of her coffee and gave him a serious stare; her freckles seemed to enlarge with the change in demeanor. “Jenny?”

“Yes.”

She looked down, but not before Devine could see her lips tremble.

“It was a shock,” said Palmer, lifting her chin to look at him.

“I’m sure.”

“I guess you’re working with Chief Harper and Wendy?”

“I am.”

“They’re good people, but probably not very experienced in this sort of thing. We... we don’t have many murders in Putnam, thank God.”

“But they know all the local angles, which I’ll need to learn, too.”

“So you think it was someone from Putnam who killed her?”

The query was blunt, and Devine could sense that Palmer craved a blunt response.

But he could not give it.

“I don’t know. I’ve been here less than twenty-four hours. I haven’t even gotten the lay of the land yet.”

“I heard you haven’t let the grass grow under your feet. Really hit the ground running.”

“That’s my job. But going fast is not always good. One might jump to conclusions that later turn out to be wrong. I avoid that if I can. I’m Travis Devine, by the way, but you probably already knew that.”

“And I’m Annie Palmer, but you obviously already knew that I owned this place.”

He held up his phone. “Not much privacy anymore.”

“No, there’s not.” Her face flushed and he wasn’t sure why.

“So, any relation to Earl?”

“He’s my grandfather.”

“And your parents?”

“House fire, fifteen years ago. Neither one of them made it out alive.”

“I’m very sorry.”

“I was away at summer camp.” Palmer put a hand to her mouth and, in spite of obviously trying hard not to, she briefly teared up.

“I’m sorry,” said Devine, handing her a napkin from the holder on the table. “I didn’t mean for you to recall painful memories.”

“It’s okay.” She wiped her eyes and let out a long, cleansing breath. “Then Bertie, that’s my grandmother, died a few weeks ago. Always thought Gramps would go first. He did too, I’m sure.”

“That is so incredibly hard. For both you and your grandfather.” He paused. “I understand that he found Jenny’s body?”

She had to know that he knew this, thought Devine, but she still looked troubled by his query. “He just stumbled on it. I mean, what else, right? It was terrible.”

Devine assumed his poker face and just nodded. “I suppose he recognized Jenny?”

“Yes, yes he did. I mean, he’d known Jenny her whole life.”

Devine thought about the distance from the edge of the bluff down to the rock shelf where Jenny’s body lay in the darkness, partially covered in water, and mentally shook his head in disbelief at what she had said. And there was something else.

“When I was by his place, I saw that your grandfather has special pedal controls on his station wagon? And some extra handholds?”

“Yes. He has bad arthritis and some spine issues. He had neck surgery that didn’t turn out too well. He can’t really use his legs and feet to work the gas and brake, but he can do it with his hands. He’s still pretty strong in the upper body. The handholds let him pull himself out of the car. But he doesn’t drive much anymore unless he has to, or he’s in a stubborn mood. And he can’t drive his truck anymore. Too hard to get in and out. Mostly, he just walks... slowly.”

“So were you friends with the Silkwells?”

“Yes. They were the most famous family here.” She attempted a smile. “We didn’t move in the same social circles, to the extent Putnam has any. But Alex isn’t that much older than I am. We used to hang out some growing up. She’s an amazing artist.”

“But you didn’t see or talk to Jenny on her last trip here?”

“No, I didn’t even know she was in town.”

“She’s been described as a really good person.”

Before answering Palmer took a sip of coffee. “Yes, yes she was. Outgoing and friendly.”

“Not like her sister, then. You said you know Alex?”

Palmer scrunched up her nose for a moment before saying, bluntly, “If anyone says they really know Alex, you know what I would say?”

“What?”

“That they’re lying to themselves.”

That might have been her most honest statement yet, thought Devine. “Interesting. Why do you say that?”

She shrugged. “She never really lets anyone get close.”

“And Dak?”

“What about him?”

“Good person?”

“I’m probably not the one to ask.” She rose. “Got cleanup duty now. The glamorous life of a small business owner.”

“I’d like to chat again, if that’s okay.”

She looked around at the four walls of the place, and her expression was not exactly one of unbridled joy. “Well, you know where to find me, pretty much every waking moment.”

He glanced at her hand and saw no ring there. “Husband? Kids?”

He knew this question was not particularly appropriate, but criminal investigations seldom were.

“Have a good day, Mr. Devine.”

Putnam was getting more interesting, and puzzling, by the minute.

Chapter 15

Devine handed a cup of coffee to Harper and one to Fuss when they arrived to search Jenny Silkwell’s cottage. He’d purchased the drinks before he’d left Maine Brew.