The edge, p.37
The Edge,
p.37
He shook his head. “I’ve worked too hard to lose all this.”
“All what? A funeral home? You spend all your time with dead people. Maybe that’s the problem.”
He grimaced. “People have always made fun of what I do, but it’s a necessary service—”
“I don’t care!” she shouted. “I don’t give a fuck about you or what you do, okay? Just do what you’re going to do to me and go on with your pathetic life.” She closed her eyes, and the tears curved over her quivering cheeks.
“You won’t feel a thing. I’m going to sedate you before, of course. It’ll be over soon, okay? I promise. I wish things could have turned out differently, okay?”
She didn’t bother to answer him.
He returned to the equipment and started to key in information in front of a screen that was attached to the cremation system. A few minutes later he looked over at her. “It’s all computerized now. Input the weight and other necessary factors, and algorithms determine the temperature and time.”
Alex’s eyes were still closed and she was now mumbling something under her breath.
He continued, turning back to his work. “Anyway, the body is 65 percent water, and it requires a large amount of thermal energy to vaporize it, which must be done first, in the primary chamber. That chamber vaporizes the water, and the secondary chamber takes care of any leftover organic matter. Then the cremulator reduces whatever is left over to ash. That’s what we put in the urns to give to the families. I thought I would scatter your ashes over Jocelyn Point. Is that okay? You always loved it there, right?”
He paused and looked at her again. She was still mumbling but only in a louder voice.
“What’s that you’re saying?” he said.
A minute later he walked over and leaned in closer. “What are you saying?”
She didn’t answer.
He put his arms under her, lifted her up, and carried her over to a long cardboard box set on a conveyor belt. He laid her inside it.
He put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll sedate you first, of course. Then it’ll all be over in about an hour.”
He went back over to the control panel and worked away. A minute later Alex lifted her head slightly and looked around. Her gaze held on where the conveyor belt led—a large metal chamber. “They’ll know. They’ll find out the truth, Fred.”
Bing looked over at her. “They’ll only find out what I want them to, which is my uncle was obsessed with you. He kidnapped you and took you somewhere. And no one will ever find out where. Then he came here and tried to kill me because I had tried to stop him. But I shot him instead. I’ll be a hero.” He next looked at the chamber into which he would be sending Alex on the conveyor belt. “And you can’t get DNA or anything else from ashes. It will be like you never existed.”
“You’re sick!” she cried out.
“No, I’m just very careful.”
Alex closed her eyes and started mumbling loudly, rocking from side to side, banging into the sides of the cardboard box.
Bing glanced over and saw this. “Alex, please stop.”
He hurried over to a table, snatched a syringe off it, and uncapped the needle. “Just a little pinch, then you won’t feel anything else.” But when he tried to administer it she was gyrating so fiercely he couldn’t do it.
“Stop it, stop it, Alex.” He set the syringe down and gripped her shoulders. “What are you doing?” he barked. “Are you having another seizure?”
Her eyes popped open and her right hand broke free of the cut ropes as she sat up and plunged the knife Devine had given her into Bing’s shoulder. Then with a long scream she twisted it in the gaping wound and jerked it upward.
Bing cried out in pain, looked at the blade quivering in his flesh, and struck Alex so hard she toppled out of the box and fell to the floor, where she lay stunned.
“Omigod, omigod,” panted Bing. “Why did you do that? It hurts. Oh God, it hurts.”
Alex slowly tried to stand but couldn’t manage it. She fell back onto her knees.
Bing staggered around the conveyor belt and kicked her in the stomach. She cried out, and then her expression turned dark and violent. She jumped up, lunged at him, and pulled the knife free from his shoulder. Blood started to shoot out of the wound, spilling over the both of them.
Bing let out a shriek and punched her. She fell against the conveyor belt and slumped to the floor.
“It’s… an artery. You… you cut my artery.”
“I hope to hell I did,” she gasped, wincing in pain.
Bing grabbed a heavy wrench lying on a table. He raised it to strike her.
The shot struck him cleanly in the head and the round stayed there after destroying an irreparable amount of Fred Bing’s soft brain tissue.
The dead man stood wobbling over Alex, but only for a moment. He fell against the conveyor belt, bounced off it, and fell to the floor.
A battered and bloody Alex looked over at the doorway, where Devine was just now lowering his gun.
CHAPTER
82
DAK WAS IN A SHOULDER harness. Alex’s physical wounds had mostly healed but her mental injuries still needed attention.
They had driven Devine to the airport in Bangor for his flight back to DC.
Devine had held meetings with both Harper and Fuss, and the federal agents Mann and Saxon, going through multiple briefings. He had done the same via Zoom with Emerson Campbell. Everyone had been complimentary of his work. They considered the investigation a success on every level, and everyone was relieved that Jenny’s phone and laptop had ended up in the ocean. He’d even gotten Benjamin Bing’s confession recorded on his iPhone.
Campbell had saluted him on the computer screen and said, “Thank you, Devine. Job well done. And it meant a lot to me personally.”
“Yes sir.”
“Clare has been briefed. She sent her thanks and gratitude to you. And I… I told Curt. I know he didn’t understand but it made me feel better.”
“Maybe he understood more than you think, sir.”
However, Devine didn’t agree with their assessment of a successful mission, because of the long line of dead people associated with it. If he had lost this many soldiers during an op, it would have been an abject failure in his mind, despite their achieving the mission goals.
The town had been informed, by both formal and gossip channels, about most of what had happened. To say that the citizens of Putnam were shocked to their core did not even come close to describing it accurately.
Dak shook Devine’s hand with his good one. “Thanks, man. You did right by the Silkwells, I can tell you that. And you saved Alex’s life.”
“You’re welcome. And the elver business?” asked Devine, while glancing at Alex.
“I’ve applied for a proper permit but we may not need it.”
“Really, why not?”
“Because we’ve got lawyers and they’ve filed a wrongful death action against the whole damn Bing family. They were all in on it, or at least knew about it, as your recording of that dick Benjamin helped prove. His brothers have already offered tens of millions to settle. But I’m going to squeeze them for every last penny.” He looked at Alex and his happy expression faded. “And it still won’t be enough. It won’t bring Jenny back.”
“No, it won’t,” said Devine.
Dak glanced awkwardly at his sister and said, “Well, I’ll give you two some alone time.”
He walked off and Devine drew closer to Alex.
“How are you?” he asked. “Really?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “One minute I think I’m healing and the next… I don’t know.”
“It all takes time.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone keeps telling me,” she replied in a dismissive tone. “I’m sure by the time I’m eighty, I’ll be just fine.”
“You really didn’t need me to save you. You took care of Fred all by yourself.”
“With the help of your Army knife. When he came to the house and kidnapped me, I made sure I put on the coat that had the knife in the pocket. He was an idiot not to search me, but he probably figured I was still that same little scared teenager. I didn’t manage to stab him in the gut like you showed me, but after I cut the ropes and freed myself, I did remember to twist the knife in the wound. That did the trick.” She slowly shook her head in amazement. “I can’t believe I just said that. It was like I was watching someone else do all of it. I’m not a violent person.”
“Everyone can be violent when violence is the only way to survive.”
She touched his arm. “I guess your life has been full of that.”
“More than I would like, yeah.” He paused. “I saw the drawing you had started. Will you finish it now?”
“I already did. Up here.” She tapped her head. “You know, Fred said he loved me, as he was methodically preparing to kill me.”
“Love and murder are not mutually exclusive. In fact, more murders are committed over love than hatred or jealousy or anything else.”
“God, what a world we live in.”
“What will you do now?”
“Grieve for my sister. Grieve for my father when the time comes. And I plan to visit him.”
“I’ll go with you, if you’d like me to.”
She took his hand in hers. “Yes, I would. I’m not sure I could face that alone.”
“I think you can face anything with or without me, Alex.”
“I was planning on seeing my mother, too.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” he said.
She looked at him curiously. “You do? Why?”
“Because as time goes on, and you start to lose people dear to you, you realize nothing should prevent you from being with them while you still can.”
“Easier said than done.”
Devine thought of his estrangement from his family. “Yes, it is. But people can at least try. So, will you stay in Putnam?”
“No. We’re selling the property. There’s nothing there for me. And I’m going to Italy, Rome, and Florence, the cities of great artists. I’d like to see some of the paintings and sculptures for real instead of in a book or on a screen. That’s just to start. Like you said, it’s a big world and I have a lot of catching up to do.” She hesitated, looking anxious.
“What?”
“I’m sure you’ve been all over the world. And I was wondering—any desire to maybe go with me to some of these places?”
“I have been all over the world, but not with you. Let me see if I can make that work.”
“I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”
“I don’t do things I don’t want to do, Alex.”
She leaned against him. “Neither do I.”
They lingered with each other until the very last possible second. Then Devine sprinted to his gate to make his flight.
A couple hours later he was back in DC. Devine grabbed his bags and headed to the taxi stand after weaving his way through large crowds of people in the airport.
He got into the cab and gave the driver his address. When it came time to pay he reached for his wallet in his jacket pocket. In pulling it out a slip of paper came along with it.
He unfolded it and looked down at the elegant handwriting on the sheet.
Nice bumping into you in the airport, former Captain Devine. We missed getting you twice before. But you know what they say, the third time is usually the charm. At least one can hope. See you soon. I promise.
XOXO
The Girl on the Train
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To Michelle, I know how much you love Maine, so this one’s for you. Enjoy the views!
To Michael Pietsch, Ben Sevier, Kirsiah Depp, Jonathan Valuckas, Matthew Ballast, Beth de Guzman, Ana Maria Allessi, Rena Kornbluh, Karen Kosztolnyik, Albert Tang, Andy Dodds, Ivy Cheng, Joseph Benincase, Alexis Gilbert, Andrew Duncan, Janine Perez, Lauren Sum, Bob Castillo, Rebecca Holland, Briana Kuchta, Mark Steven Long, Marie Mundaca, Lisa Cahn, John Colucci, Nita Basu, Alison Lazarus, Barry Broadhead, Martha Bucci, Ali Cutrone, Raylan Davis, Tracy Dowd, Melanie Freedman, Elizabeth Blue Guess, John Leary, John Lefler, Rachel Hairston, Tishana Knight, Jennifer Kosek, Suzanne Marx, Derek Meehan, Donna Nopper, Rob Philpott, Barbara Slavin, Karen Torres, Rich Tullis, Mary Urban, Avi Molder, Fantasia Brown, Julie Hernandez, Laura Shepherd, Maritza Lumpris, Dominic Stones, Leah Collins Lipsett, Jeff Shay, Carla Stockalper, Ky’ron Fitzgerald, and everyone at Grand Central Publishing. We’re set for another eight books and I can’t wait. You all rock.
To Aaron and Arleen Priest, Lucy Childs, Lisa Erbach Vance, Frances Jalet-Miller, Kristen Pini, and Natalie Rosselli. Love the new digs. And by the way, you all are the best in the business.
To Mitch Hoffman, for continuing to distinguish yourself as one hell of an editor.
To Joanna Prior, Jeremy Trevathan, Lucy Hale, Francesca Pathak, Stuart Dwyer, Leanne Williams, Kinza Azira, Sara Lloyd, Claire Evans, Jamie Forrest, Laura Sherlock, Jonathan Atkins, Christine Jones, Andy Joannou, Charlotte Williams, Rebecca Kellaway, Charlotte Cross, Lucy Grainger, Holly Martin, Becky Lloyd, and Neil Lang at Pan Macmillan, for keeping me right at the top. It’s not easy and you all do it flawlessly.
To Praveen Naidoo and the wonderful team at Pan Macmillan in Australia, for growing my audience by leaps and bounds. See you soon!
To Caspian Dennis and Sandy Violette, who are like siblings to me, although I’m much older!
To Chuck Betack, for his expert advice on military matters.
To Tom DePont, for all things financial.
To the charity auction winners, Françoise Guillaume (The Mark Twain House & Museum), Wendy Fuss (Amelia Island Book Festival), and the family of the late Richard Wayne Harper (Homes for Our Troops), I hope you enjoyed your characters, the good and the bad!
To my good friend Harvey Watkins, I hope you enjoyed reading about your namesake. Thanks for all you’ve done for us over the years.
And to Kristen White and Michelle Butler, the engines on the train.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
DAVID BALDACCI is a global #1 bestselling author, and one of the world’s favorite storytellers. His books are published in over 45 languages and in more than 80 countries, with 150 million copies sold worldwide. His works have been adapted for both feature film and television. David Baldacci is also the cofounder, along with his wife, of the Wish You Well Foundation, a nonprofit organization dedicated to supporting literacy efforts across America. Still a resident of his native Virginia, he invites you to visit him at DavidBaldacci.com and his foundation at WishYouWellFoundation.org.
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ALSO BY DAVID BALDACCI
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Long Road to Mercy
A Minute to Midnight
Daylight
Mercy
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The Hit
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The Guilty
End Game
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The Escape
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First Family
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Walk the Wire
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THE CAMEL CLUB SERIES
The Camel Club
The Collectors
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Hell’s Corner
THE SHAW SERIES
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Absolute Power
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The Simple Truth
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(A Digital Novella)
David Baldacci, The Edge
