The Edge

“And Earl Palmer? I understand why he had to die. If he was forced to lie about finding Jenny’s body, he’s a loose thread. But how did the person get him to pretend to find Jenny’s body in the first place? From all accounts he was an honest man.”

“Maybe they had some dirt on him. If they did, I need to find out what it was.”

“I found something out about Jenny’s activities that might help you,” said Campbell.

“What?”

“She did use her CIA resources to investigate the attack on Alex.”

“How?” exclaimed Devine.

“Satellite surveillance imagery for the night in question.”

“How did that come to be?”

“As you know, we have satellites that sweep the globe around the clock. That particular part of the country is pretty important. The Canadian border is nearby. There are planes coming in from overseas nonstop along that route, and that sector is right along a principal trajectory path for both in- and outbound nuclear missiles. So there were pictures of Putnam, Maine, in the database.”

“How come no one thought of that before?” said Devine.

“I have no idea, but I confess, I didn’t.”

“But why did Jenny wait all this time before checking that angle?”

“I think I know the answer to that. It was only three months ago that she was elevated to a position at CIA where she would have unfettered access to intel like this. Knowing her, she probably tried before, and was rebuffed. But we have the digital trail of her requesting and accessing this data about three weeks ago, from sat pictures taken on the very night Alex was attacked fifteen years ago.”

“They keep that stuff from back then?”

“They keep a lot of stuff forever, Devine. Sometimes it’s patterns people are looking for and then changes to those patterns. And for that you need the context that only time delivers. The U.S. government is the world’s biggest data hoarder when it comes to that.”

“Did the satellite record the actual attack on Alex?”

“No, we weren’t that lucky. It wasn’t positioned in a spot that would show that.”

“What, then?”

“It shows a vehicle traveling away from that location at the time in question. And before you ask, no, there was no license plate shown. Again, it couldn’t be that easy, right?”

“That doesn’t help us much.”

“Ah, but that’s not all it showed. The vehicle passed a car coming the other way. It was around a curve so both vehicles had to slow. The way the other vehicle was positioned it blocked the other car for the most part from the satellite’s cameras. Remember it doesn’t remain static. It keeps roaming.”

“And?” Devine said expectantly.

“And that satellite did capture the plate on the other car.”

“Let me guess — it belonged to Steve and Valerie Palmer.”

“Bingo,” replied Campbell. “And now the blackmail theory you just articulated seems far more plausible.”

“And that means they recognized whoever it was. Which means the attacker was probably local.”

“And still in Putnam if he’s the same person who killed Jenny,” noted Campbell.

“Was there anything on the imagery that can help us identify the other vehicle?”

“Not much, no.”

“Can you send me the imagery?” said Devine.

“Yes. Now one thing puzzled me and I know it puzzles you,” said Campbell.

“What’s that?”

“Jenny and her mother were estranged. So why would Jenny tell Clare what she was planning? About the unfinished business?”

“I can call Clare and ask her,” said Devine.

“I think it better to confront her personally.”

“I can fly down and—”

Campbell interrupted. “You’ve got your hands full up there. It would be counterproductive to pull you away. I’ll meet with her.”

“You sure that’s smart, sir? I know this is personal with you.”

“It is personal, Devine. And it’s also my job. I’ll report back what I find out.”

Chapter 48

“It’s been a long time, Emerson,” said Clare Robards.

It was evening and she and Campbell were sitting in front of a roaring fire, which eased the chill from the old general’s bones.

“Yes, it has been,” he agreed. He studied her for a moment, his thickly tufted eyebrows edging up and down. “Look, people have their opinions, Clare. But it’s your life to lead and no one else’s.”

His words did nothing to lighten the mood of the room. Indeed, Clare’s features grew even more unfriendly.

He noted this and said, “Um, I know that you visit him regularly. That’s good of you.”

She leveled a rigid gaze on him and said in a querulous tone, “Good of me? We were married for a long time, and we had three children together. Do you really think I would simply abandon him, Emerson? Although I guess that’s what people do think. Including you. But Curt also wanted the divorce. We had gone our separate ways. We only stayed married because of his upcoming election.”

“I know,” said Campbell curtly, looking down.

She pressed on. “But you don’t want to believe it, do you? It’s easier to think poorly of me and never bring perfect Curt into the equation. But he was seeing someone, too, did you know that?”

Campbell stiffened and eyed her cautiously. “No, I didn’t.”