The Edge

Chapter 62

Annie Palmer looked traumatized. She was sitting in a booth at Maine Brew with Devine next to her and Harper and Fuss across from her. They had previously taken Devine back to retrieve his truck and then followed him here.

“I signed the papers for them to cremate Gramps. It’s what he wanted. Bertie was cremated and her ashes spread over the harbor. I was planning to do the same with his. Dr. Guillaume called and had me come in. She said everything was done and it was time to take care of the body. I was happy that he wanted to be cremated. I mean, I don’t have the money for a casket and burial plot and all. I was planning on having a celebration of his life here at the café, for his friends.” She paused. “I’m the only family left; my mom and dad had no siblings.”

Harper sighed and looked at Devine. “Just unfortunate, way I see it. But nothing out of the ordinary, either. They’re running a business. And they’d jumped through all the hoops. We knew the tests hadn’t been done, and I didn’t order any. Buck stops with me. We were a day late and a dollar short.”

Devine rubbed his brow, looking and feeling immensely frustrated.

“I’m sorry if I messed up,” said Palmer.

Fuss took her hand with a gentleness that surprised Devine. She said, “You did nothing wrong, hon. You did what your granddad wanted.”

They left Palmer there and walked out. On the pavement Harper studied his muddy shoes before looking up at Devine. “So what now?”

“I don’t know,” Devine said frankly. “I need to think some things through.”

Devine got into the truck and drove off. He popped in a tape and started listening to CCR. He eyed the sky where the sun was long gone and the darkness was coming for them all. He sang along with the lyrics on the tape: “Well, don’t go ’round tonight / It’s bound to take your life / There’s a bad moon on the rise.”

He pressed the gas and went faster.

His phone buzzed.

“Agent Devine, it’s Fred Bing. I wanted to let you know that I heard back from my father. A lot quicker than I had imagined.”

“What did he say?”

“That he hasn’t seen or spoken to my uncle in over two weeks.”

“Is it unusual for your father not to have heard from him?”

“They’re not close, but they do live near each other. And they were scheduled to play golf together the other day, but my uncle sent a text saying he couldn’t make it.”

“Does your father know how long his brother has been away?”

“I don’t think he has a firm date, other than the two weeks not having heard from him until he sent the text about golf.”

“How old a man is Benjamin Bing?”

“He’s the youngest brother. By a lot. So, sixty maybe? My father is seventy-two but he’s the oldest, and there was a wide gap between kids.”

“Describe your uncle physically.”

“Big man. As tall as me but a lot broader. Strong as a horse. They used to joke in my family that he could be all six pallbearers in one.”

“You got a recent picture of him?”

“It was taken a few years ago. I can text it to you.”

“Thanks.”

“I understand there was some misunderstanding about Earl Palmer’s cremation?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“Well, I was surprised, too, if you want the truth,” said Bing.

“What do you mean?”

“I usually call the family and arrange things. And then I do the cremation.”

“But not with Earl?”

“No.”

“Why?” asked Devine.

“My sister wanted to handle it.”

“Do you know why?”

“No, I mean, I didn’t ask her. I was just happy to get it off my plate. We have four funerals coming up. I’m barely keeping my head above water.”

Devine wasn’t really listening. “Remember to send me the pic of your uncle. Thanks.”

He clicked off and kept driving, his mind littered with possibilities.

He called Alex. She answered on the second ring.

“You hungry?” he said.

“Actually, very. And I don’t feel like cooking.”

“I’ll pick you up in ten minutes if that works.”

“It does.”

Along the way his phone dinged and he opened it, his eyes going back and forth from the road to the phone screen.

Benjamin Bing had memorable features: strong chin and jaw, thick, graying hair, what Devine referred to as buzzard eyes — the sort that immediately made you uncomfortable — and slender lips just beneath a nose as sharp as a Ka-Bar blade.

Damn if he doesn’t look like a soldier.

Alex was waiting for him in front of the house. The wind slightly lifted the hem of her knee-length skirt. Long boots covered her calves. Her parka looked warm and comfortable.

She slid into the truck and said, “How are you doing?”

“I was about to ask you that.”

“I got a lot of work done today, so that’s good.”

“And everything else?” he said.

She eyed him pensively. “I had no thoughts of jumping off the top of the house, if that’s what you mean.”

“I didn’t mean that... necessarily.”

“Do you know why I went up there?”

“Tell me.”

“It’s the place where I can see the farthest. I don’t mean out on the ocean. I mean in my head.”

“But you were very close to the edge. I was afraid... that you might...”

“I can’t say that the thought has never entered my mind. But after what happened to Jenny...” She frowned, shook her head, and adopted a look of intense focus. “It was exactly like you said. If I did something like that, it would be as though what Jenny did was worthless. She sacrificed her life to find out the truth about what happened to me. I... could never do that to her. To her memory. I just couldn’t.”

She faced away from him but he could see, in her reflection in the window, the tears sliding down the woman’s face.

“You know, you’re pretty much the most honest person I’ve ever met,” said Devine. “And... I find I can’t be anything other than frank with you, even when I don’t want to be.”

“Is that a good thing?” she asked, now looking at him.

“I think it is, yes. If a little unnerving.”

They drove on.