Jake did as he was told, selling the town house quickly, and at a loss, then relocating to Kennewick, Maine, a town that reminded him of all the good things about Menasset, but with none of the squalor. Charles Fitch made good on his promise, and the bank supplied a reference that allowed Jake to get a job at a bank two towns over, about a third of the size of the bank he’d worked at in Rochester. He slowly rebuilt his life, telling himself that he should find some nice girl, not too young, and settle down. He briefly dated the events manager from a nearby hotel, a lusty divorcée on the wrong side of forty. It was a mostly unpleasant affair, except that Karen Johnson knew everyone in town, and helped him build his client list at the bank. Not that the year-round residents of southern Maine had much money to invest. But some did, and after a year, he got a raise at the bank and was able to move out of the basement apartment he was renting. He bought a condo, much smaller than his previous town house but with a view of the ocean.

All was going well until the first hot day of Maine’s brief summer, when he took a walk on Kennewick Beach and spotted Alice Moss in a green one-piece coming out of the frothing surf. Looking at her body, he thought she was probably sixteen, but her face—its blank inwardness, the wide-set eyes that reminded him of Emma Codd—made her look younger. He pivoted, checking his watch as though he had just remembered an appointment, and followed her to where she flopped onto a beach towel on her stomach. He walked past, trying hard not to look at the way her bathing suit had ridden up along the firm buttocks, and sat on one of the rocks that separated the beach from the road. He lit a cigarette, watching her, aware that she didn’t know she was being watched. Did she have any idea what her body was doing to all the men in her vicinity? He finished the cigarette, crushing it out on the rock he was sitting on, and watched her flip onto her back, rustle through her beach bag for a book. She was clearly going to stay for a while, and Jake knew he couldn’t linger around too long. He wasn’t dressed for the beach, didn’t have a towel or a beach bag with him. He took a chance and left. It was a Saturday, and the weather was supposed to be hot the following day as well. She’d be back, he told himself.