The Edge

Chapter 26

Only real food was a hopping place, Devine discovered as he turned the corner onto Hiram Silkwell Boulevard after walking from the Putnam Inn. Cars lined both sides of the street, and there were some folks milling about the entrance. The brick building occupied about a half block and looked to have once been some sort of warehouse or industrial space. The sign for the restaurant was formed from chunky welded metal, with the letters done in calligraphy. Two gas flames encased in glass lanterns flickered on either side of the double wooden door.

Inside, the floor plan was wide open, with wrought iron pipes and other metal fittings ornately bent into enormous light fixtures dominating the walls and the ceiling, the latter of which was open to the rafters. There were about thirty tables of varying sizes, most of them full of hungry customers and the accompanying noises of conversation and clatter of glasses and utensils. The kitchen was visible through large windows, and the professionally clad cooks and staff could be seen working behind large stoves and in front of commercial ovens, with huge pans and skillets and dishes in use, and orders digitally flying across computer screens.

Waitstaff emerged through double doors with large platters of food or armloads of drinks. Piped-in music wafted over the clientele, and a small bar set up along one wall was doing a healthy business.

In a town of fewer than three hundred people, thought Devine. But then Dak Silkwell told me about the thousands who live in the surrounding area.

But still, what made Putnam such a happening place?

As he looked around the room trying to find Silkwell, he noted two large paintings that were mounted on one wall. He walked over and eyeballed them. One was of a fisherman with a large net filled with... yes, it was mermaids, he concluded. The other painting depicted a storm blowing in off the coast and in the foreground a large home with a widow’s walk, where he could see the image of a woman looking anxiously out to sea.

The house, he easily noted, was Jocelyn Point. He looked down at the signatures at the bottom of both paintings.

The initials ADS. Alexandra Silkwell? With the D being her middle name, probably. The style was definitely hers. He could see that even though he’d only viewed a few of her pieces.

“Hey.”

He turned to see Dak striding toward him. The man had exchanged his muscle shirt and jeans for a tailored two-piece dark suit with an open-collared white shirt. His hair was slicked back and wound up in a ponytail. He looked like a totally different person, Devine noted. And maybe that was the man’s intent.

“You like them?” Dak asked, pointing at the paintings.

“Yes. Your sister’s work, right?”

“How the hell did you know that?”

“I saw some of Alex’s work when I spoke to her at her studio. But these are different. The mermaids I don’t really see her doing. I mean, catching them in a net like—”

“—fish? Yeah. She didn’t want to do it, actually. It was the owner’s idea, and the money they were willing to pay was too good.”

“And the house? That’s your place.”

“Yes.”

“And the lady looking out to the ocean with the storm coming?”

“Typical New England scene. We probably had ancestors who did that very thing. Alex has a great imagination, but for her paying customers she sticks to more traditional themes.”

Dak led Devine over to an empty table with a RESERVED sign on it. They sat down, and a waitress immediately came over with water and menus.

“Evening, Mr. Silkwell,” she said.

“Beth, this is Travis Devine. A friend of mine, so let’s treat him real good, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

Big fish in a teeny pond, thought Devine. This also probably explained the suit.

Silkwell ordered a glass of cabernet, while Devine opted for an IPA on draft.

“Busy place,” said Devine.

“Oh yeah, they do a great business.”

Devine looked at the menu and noted the prices.

“No offense, but for a sleepy little town with the kids getting free school lunches, how does the place charge these prices and sell out?”

“You’ve been talking to my sister about that, right? The 130 percenters?”

“Yes. She didn’t paint a really rosy picture of the economic climate here.”

“She’s always been a Debbie Downer. The fact is, COVID changed everything. We got nearly a thousand families who moved to the area from Boston, New York, Miami, Seattle, Chicago, LA, San Francisco, and other metro areas where the cost of living is through the roof. They can work remotely, still pull in an income that is many times what most Mainers make, and build or buy homes for peanuts. Cheapest oceanfront in the country, or at least that’s what one Realtor told me.”

“I didn’t see much construction going on along the coast here.”

“It started about a mile down but it’ll get here, and some of it is inland, too.” He looked around. “Most of the customers in here tonight are the ‘remoters,’ as I like to call them. State used federal dollars to bring superfast broadband here. That was key to getting these highly educated and highly compensated folks to come. And they’re putting down roots. And all of the people working at this restaurant are locals. But Real Food pays a living wage, and the employees get health insurance and a 401(k).”

“That’s great. And the weather?”

“Hell, you think Chicago, Boston, and New York don’t get cold? And you want to be in Miami, Phoenix, or Houston in the summer? Sure, it gets warm here, but nothing like that, and the proximity to the ocean actually keeps the winters bearable. And if folks can save a ton of money? It’s not rocket science. And there are developers coming in who want to build an oceanfront hotel, a spa resort, and new residential communities. If that happens, this place is going to boom, and the people who bought here before that are going to make a fortune. And instead of eroding sand, we have sturdy, rocky shorelines, so houses aren’t going to topple into the sea as the water levels rise, at least not for a long time. So you get ocean views without that worry for rock-bottom prices. And there’s plans to build new elementary and high schools. And businesses are starting up all the time, and I invest in the ones that I believe in, like this place. I’ve already made back ten times what I put in. Only good thing that came out of COVID, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Was Jenny involved in any of this?”

“No. I talked to her about it, but she was government. And some of the monies coming our way are tied to federal dollars. She couldn’t risk the conflict.”

“Okay, I can understand that.”

“And that oceanfront hotel? Guess where they’re thinking of building it?”

“Jocelyn Point?”

Dak nodded with a self-satisfied smile. “I’ve had preliminary talks with them. The house is a knockdown but we have tons of acreage right on the water, plenty of room to put in a nice facility and amenities. Hell, it could accommodate a residential development and retail businesses, too. And the dollars they’re talking? Well, I might leave old Hiram Silkwell in the dust.”

“Congrats. So with Jenny gone I guess it’ll just be you and Alex splitting the fortune?”

Dak looked at him sharply. “What the hell are you implying?”

“I’m implying nothing. Just trying to thoroughly understand the situation.”

Dak said, “Well, understand this. Jenny’s share of the sale, if it happens, will go into a trust to promote conservation and protect endangered species in Maine.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I know that’s what she would have wanted. So don’t go thinking that I knocked off my sister for money. That deal alone will give us all more money than we would ever need.”

“Thanks for the clarification. When did you hear about Jenny’s death?”

“I was in Boston that night. Had a meeting with a business I’m trying to get to open a location in Putnam. It’s one of those gym franchises. Healthy people make for a healthy community. I got a call from Chief Harper. I was asleep in my hotel room when my phone rang. Scared the shit out of me. It was like three in the morning.” Dak looked down at his drink. “At first I thought it was folks calling about Dad. I’d prepared myself for that for a while now.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” said Devine quietly.

He shook his head. “But not Jenny. I couldn’t believe it. I thought he was out of his fucking mind. I didn’t even know Jenny was in town. I’ll admit we weren’t as close as we were when we were kids, but she usually let us know when she was coming up.”

“So any ideas on why she didn’t this time?”

Dak shook his head. “I’ve been letting that rattle around in my head ever since I got that call. The thing is, she doesn’t usually come up this time of year. There’s not that much to do. Sometimes she’d go sailing right off the coast. And she liked deep-sea fishing. But you don’t do that now. Or she’d just walk or bike around, go for hikes. Again, that stuff is better left to the summers or fall. And Jenny was here during the summer. We met up a few times, talked about Dad and the old days. She seemed really good.”

“She didn’t mention anything out of the ordinary, any unfinished business up here?”

“Unfinished business? Like what?”

“I don’t know. It’s why I’m asking.”

“No, nothing like that. She seemed, well, like the old Jenny.”

“What about Alex? Where was she when Jenny died?”

Devine had forgotten to ask the woman, but he could do so later and compare it to what Dak told him.

“At that time of night she’d have been at the house asleep.”

“So you two didn’t talk about that?”

“If you want the truth, Alex and I don’t really talk all that much.”

“What happened to her?”

Dak shot him a troubled look. “What do you mean?”

“I was told that she was assaulted many years ago. And the person who did it got away. But that it changed her.”

“Who did you hear that from?”

“Is it not true?”

Dak finished off his drink. “Yes, it’s true. But she wasn’t just assaulted. She was raped, beaten, and left for dead.”

Devine flinched. Harvey Watkins hadn’t told him Alex had been raped. But maybe he didn’t know. Watkins had said it had all been hushed up.

“Alex couldn’t ID her attacker?”

“No, she couldn’t for some reason. I was never clear on why.”

“You didn’t ask?”

“I was pulling a deployment in Germany. With the different time zones it was hard to keep up with life back here. I heard snatches of what happened. I tried to get leave to come home, but apparently your sister getting raped wasn’t a big enough deal for the Army to allow that. When I finally got back no one was talking about it. Everybody was actually walking around on eggshells.”

“But she was different?”

“Yeah, she sure as hell was. If I ever catch the son of a bitch that did it—”

“So no leads or anything?”

“Apparently not. The cops concluded it was some stranger.”

Devine decided to shift gears. “Do you know Annie Palmer?”

Dak looked at him suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”

“Just trying to understand as much as I can about this place and its dynamics.”

“I know her. In fact, we dated off and on a few years ago.”

“Didn’t work out?”

“Hell, Devine, we weren’t looking to get married, just have some fun.”

“And did you?”

“Yeah, she was cool. Nice girl. Why, did she say different?”

“No, I didn’t even talk to her about you,” said Devine.

“I’ve dated lots of women. And we all had good times. Up here, that’s important. Otherwise you could go stir-crazy.”

“But you have all your business interests.”

“Business is business, pleasure is something else.”

Devine decided to change gears. “So what’s your criteria for investing? Free cash flow in what time period? ROI minimums? Growth prospects? Do you have a typical exit strategy or do you just reexamine every so often? And what’s your stop loss plan? And do you invest solo or with a fund or a syndicate?”

“You sound like you know your way around a balance sheet and P and L statement.”

“I have my MBA. Worked on Wall Street for a time.”

“Why the hell did you leave? You make it there you had to be pulling in serious bucks.”

“Just wasn’t for me.”

“Okay,” Dak said incredulously. “I have some financial backers for my investments. That was another reason why I was in Boston, to meet with them. I’ve got a proven track record, so they trust me. We like to be cash flow positive within eighteen months, but there’s wiggle room there on a case-by-case basis. Exit within five years unless there’s a compelling reason to get out earlier or stay in longer. Flexibility is the key. ROI expectation is high. A hundred percent is the minimum. We shoot for the moon.”

“Do you insist on board representation?”

“We always take at least one board seat and more depending on our investment piece. But keep in mind this is not Apple or Google, these are start-ups. They actually need our business expertise. I usually like to have my hand in, and we just closed our twentieth deal last month. And the other nineteen? I think we’re going to hit home runs in all but two.”

“That’s a much higher percentage than the Wall Street boys have.”

“I get to really dig into the business plans and meet the people before the dollars go in. And then I’m right here watching my investment and jumping in or pulling the plug if I have to.”

“You ever think of going somewhere else?”

“Every second of every day. But I’ve got time on my side and a plan, a big one.”

“The new Silkwell empire?”

“The new Dak empire.”

The two men ate their meal and then went their separate ways.

As Devine was walking back to the inn, he looked to the sky, which was growing cloudy. The wind was picking up. He could feel the barometric pressure dropping as the storm system moved in. He was halfway back to the inn when he was confronted by three men who stepped out from the darkness in a particularly lonely area of Putnam. And these men were not drunk and stupid local yokels like the ones who had followed him out of the bar. They got Devine’s immediate attention primarily for one reason.

They look like me right before I go into battle. Calm, focused, and lethal.