“My God. Curt never mentioned anything like that happening to Alex.”
“They apparently hushed it all up. Why, I don’t know.”
“Then what’s your take on the Norma casing being found at Jenny’s crime scene, but a NATO round being the one that nearly killed you?” asked Campbell.
“I don’t really have a take, sir. Yet. It could be someone from the military, or a civilian trying to throw suspicion that way. And we don’t know for sure Jenny was killed with the Norma round, since it was never found.”
“You have anyone that’s giving you certain vibes?”
“Dak Silkwell is an aspiring mini-mogul who will make even more millions off the sale of the old homestead now that Jenny is gone. He says he was in Boston at the time, but he could have paid someone to do it. That much money is a prime motive.”
“That’s the other thing I meant to share with you. I spoke today with the Silkwell estate lawyers about the trust that left the house and property to the children,” said Campbell. “So it might be Dak had even more motive than you thought.”
“How do you mean?”
“According to the trust terms there has to be a unanimous vote to sell the property. So if Jenny didn’t want to sell, Dak was not getting his millions. And if Alex doesn’t want to sell, Dak has the same problem that he might have had with Jenny.”
“I gotta go.” Devine ended the call and punched the gas.
Chapter 38
Devine pounded on the front door at Jocelyn Point, to no avail. Alex’s bike was there. But Dak’s Harley was not. At this time of day the man was at work inking people’s skin.
He tried the door but it was locked. He ran around to the studio, but a quick look in the window revealed it was empty. He hustled back to the house and found the back door unlocked.
“Alex?” he cried out. “You here. We need to talk. Alex?”
He searched the first floor, then the second. He found Dak’s bedroom, which was a pigsty; on the other side of the house was Alex’s, which was tidy and organized.
Walls built around her to keep the bogeyman away.
He opened a third door and looked in. There were dust cloths on the furniture, but he could tell the space was clearly another bedroom.
On the wall he saw a number of grainy old newspaper articles that had been framed. He walked over to them. The local paper had written stories about Jenny Silkwell’s academic and athletic accomplishments, which were many and impressive. And on a shelf were trophies and certificates and other memorabilia that further proclaimed the outstanding youthful achievements of the room’s former occupant.
He shook his head and wondered what it would have been like to be Jenny Silkwell’s sibling. Not easy. Not easy at all.
He closed the door and spied another staircase that headed up.
He took it. The staircase was full of mildew and decay. He saw that it opened out onto the widow’s walk that served as a topper to the home.
The weather hit him as soon as he stepped outside, but now it was just wind. The precipitation had carried well off the coast.
The air seemed finer and purer up here, he immediately noted.
He took in the area, with his gaze finally settling on the Atlantic. The wind had churned it, and the whitecaps roiled the surface in a slow-moving motion that struck him as frenetic still. There were a few boats in his sight line, but that was all. The day was beginning to wind down and the setting sun was behind him, casting all he was seeing in a stream of colors that was building as slowly as the waves.
When his gaze dropped to the dark rocks along the coast his throat seized and his heart felt stiff and flimsy. He cried out in his anxiety and ran pell-mell back down the stairs to the first floor and out the back door. He ran flat-out toward the ocean, his heart in his throat as he mumbled every prayer he could think of.
He looked down on the boulders where the tide was just beginning to come in.
Alex was sprawled out on one of them.
He hurried down the rough path leading to the rocks and skipped over them to reach her.
Don’t be dead, don’t be dead.
He pulled his phone to call 911.
He got to her and knelt down to check the woman’s pulse.
She screamed and sat up so abruptly, Devine fell back on his ass on one of the rocks.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
He was so relieved that he had interpreted the scene incorrectly that he didn’t answer. He just laughed, uncontrollably, for a few seconds in a spasm of relief, and then lapsed into an embarrassed silence, his chest heaving with all he was feeling at the moment.
As she stared at him with obvious concern he said, “I saw you lying sprawled on the rocks from the widow’s walk. I... I thought...” He couldn’t finish the statement, but he didn’t need to.
“Omigod, I’m so sorry,” said Alex. She reached out and gripped his hand. “I guess it looked... I was like... Jenny.”
He nodded and then looked off to the encroaching ocean. He closed his eyes and tried to will away that image of a dead Alex. It did not work.
“I come out here a few times a week and lay out on this flat rock before the tide comes in. It’s part of my therapy. I was going to bag it today what with the rain, but it stopped, so...”
“I didn’t know you were still in therapy.”
“It’s self-imposed. I learned a lot from others and now I practice it. Breathing exercises, meditation, using certain calming phrases, being in the moment, trying to knock as much cortisol out of my system as I can and replacing it with dopamine.” She ran her gaze over him. “You should try it; you look very stressed. I can teach you a few things.”
“Thanks, maybe I’ll take you up on that. But I have some questions first.”
“Okay? What?”
“Did you know your brother is negotiating to sell Jocelyn Point? And do you agree with that? And do you know whether your sister did and whether she approved of a potential sale?”
Alex now looked out to sea and didn’t answer for a long moment while Devine tensely watched her.
“Dak told me about it. I don’t know if Jenny wanted to sell or not. I don’t know if she even knew about it.”
“She didn’t talk about it when she came up here last?”
“No, she never mentioned it. She just wanted to talk about... if I had recalled anything from when I was attacked.”
“So, are you okay with him selling all this?”
“We haven’t really talked about how I feel. And I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Under the trust document you both have to agree for a sale to go through. When Jenny was alive she would have had to agree, too.”
She slowly turned to look at him. “You’re not suggesting...?”
“I have to look at every angle, Alex. Dak is negotiating to sell this place, like I said. So how is he doing that if you haven’t agreed to the deal?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to talk to him about it.”
He drew closer. “Alex, do you want to leave here?”
“You told me there’s a big world out there for me to capture.”
“I know I did, and I meant it. But you can travel to other places without selling this place. Without selling your home.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly rolling in cash. Yeah, I’ve sold some artwork here and there, but I don’t get Picasso-level money in return.”
“I thought that Dak does well financially.”
“I’m not Dak. But if he weren’t paying the taxes on this property we would have already lost it.”
“So you’re saying you might not have a choice in the matter?”