The Edge

“Oh, sure. Covered all of Curt’s campaigns. War hero turned maverick politician. The people of Maine loved him. And he did right by them. Maine has gone through some tough times. But we’re hardy folks and we keep plugging away. Curt was one of us. He was tough and kept plugging, too. Sure sad to hear how sick he is now.”

“What did you think of Clare?”

“She was a good partner to Curt, and I mean as a wife, mother, and political spouse. Those are three distinct roles, and most people fall down on at least one of them. Not Clare.”

“And the kids?”

“Nice, polite, all talented in their own way.”

“I understand that years ago Alex sort of had a personality transformation. You know anything about that? Because the people I talked to had nothing specific to tell me.”

Watkins looked around nervously. “You can’t quote me or anything.”

Devine straightened and his expression sharpened. “Anything you tell me is confidential. You want to come inside?”

Watkins nodded and stepped across the threshold.

Devine sat on the bed while Watkins perched on the edge of the desk chair.

“It was during the summer. She was a rising junior in high school.”

“What happened?” asked Devine.

“Alex was assaulted and ended up in the hospital. I believe she almost died.”

Devine was stunned. “Did they catch the person?”

“No, they never did.”

“So Alex didn’t know who it was? Or why she was attacked?”

“No. It was either a stranger, or Alex couldn’t identify the person for some reason. The whole thing was hushed up, if you want the truth. Curt was running for the Senate for the first time back then. Most people in Putnam probably don’t know what really happened. I only know what I told you because I was a reporter. And I have to say that back then my boss put the kibosh on digging into it or me really talking about it.”

“So she became... reclusive?”

“Changed her whole life, really. She just became a shadow of what she had been. It was really very sad.”

“You’d think it would have made her want to move away from here.”

Watkins took off his glasses and cleaned them on the sleeve of his coat. “I think it just made her afraid, Mr. Devine. Afraid of the old and the new. She at least was familiar with this place. But other locations just became too big a potential nightmare for her. And as the years passed, I think whatever walls she built solidified. She has the old house, and now her studio, the kids she teaches, and that’s about it. At least that’s my two cents’ worth of psychology.”

“Did she get counseling?”

“I would imagine she did.”

“Did her family support her?”

“Jenny was working in DC at the time. She came straight home and spent every day at the hospital. And after her sister was released, she was with her all the time. Probably calming her, reassuring her, supporting her. That was Jenny.”

“And Dak?”

“He was away in the Army at the time.”

Devine nodded, his mind going back to a naked Alex standing defiantly in that window. Does she feel safe there? Invulnerable? Am I overthinking this?

“Mr. Devine, you okay?”

Devine came out of his thoughts to find the man staring worriedly at him.

“What a terrible thing to have happen,” he said. And then Devine thought how lame that must sound.

“Happens to far too many women,” noted Watkins. “Although one is one too many. But we live in a troubled society and things are not always what they appear to be, people included. Had a neighbor back in Bangor. Nicest guy, help you whenever you needed it. The year we left Bangor to move here he was arrested for possession of child pornography. You think you know someone, and then, hell, you realize maybe you don’t know a damn thing.”

After Watkins left, Devine sat there thinking that the reporter’s last words were some of the truest he had ever heard.

Chapter 25

Devine drove over to the Bing and Sons Funeral Home and parked next to the front door. A long black hearse stood with its rear doors open next to the side entrance. A young woman at the front desk, upon seeing Devine’s credentials, made a call and then led him back to a small office where Françoise Guillaume was sitting behind her desk.

“Haven’t gone back to Augusta yet?” he asked.

“I actually live here,” she said, rising to shake his hand. “I just keep a condo in Augusta. I’m one of thirty-five medical examiners appointed by the chief medical examiner, whose office is under the attorney general’s department. It’s a volunteer job. I’m assigned to this part of the state. But I have a medical practice in town. And I also work here with my brother, Fred. We both have degrees in mortuary science, and are licensed embalmers. My brother also has a degree in funeral services. Plus we’re certified in cremation services, which is the route more people are choosing.”

“You’re a very busy woman, Ms. Guillaume.”

“I’m used to juggling lots of balls in the air. Keeps me energized and engaged.”

She sat down and pointed to a chair, which Devine took. “What can I do for you?”