Third to Die (18 page)

“I’ll be back soon,” Edmond insisted. He paused to clear his throat. When he coughed his whole body trembled as though it might all shatter from the exertion.

“It’s taken me longer than I thought to shake this thing.”

“Take all the time you need,” Aiden told him.

“Are you busy? Is that tyrant Clyde still giving you grief?”

“Actually it hasn’t been too bad,” Aiden admitted. He suspected that Avalon’s awareness of Edmond’s plight meant that people were staying away from the firm out of respect. Respect for Edmond of course, not for Aiden.

“No?” Edmond seemed slightly disappointed by this. He needed fresh news to feed on.

“But I’ve been in my home town a bit lately.”

“Oh?”

“Years ago, an old high school friend of mine was killed in a motorbike accident.”

“How terrible,” Edmond empathized.

Aiden paused before continuing. He hadn’t really discussed Justin’s death with anyone outside of Greensburg. He all still felt a bit like a secret, but Aiden knew that if there was one person in Avalon he could share things with, it was Edmond. He missed seeing the old man in the office. He knew he’d have taken an interest when Aiden started returning to Greensburg, probably even offered him some sage advice.

“Anyway,” he took a breath and concluded the story. “Some friends of mine turned up recently asking me do some digging. They believe there was more to his death than there originally seemed to be.”

“And was there?” Edmond was still except for his lips which moved to deliver the question. He was hanging on Aiden’s every word.

“Yes,” Aiden nodded. “I think there was. His files are sealed by the FBI.”

“Delicious!” Edmond shuddered with glee. “Not about your friend, that’s wretched that he died so young, but the FBI’s involvement means you’ve got a great case on your hands.”

“I just…” Aiden cast his eyes downwards at the floor. He suddenly felt guilty to come and burden Edmond with his own problems when the old man had more than enough to deal with.

“You feel like you owe it to your friend to uncover the truth?” Edmond asked knowingly.

“Exactly,” Aiden agreed. “But I’m worried what I’ll turn up. I know a guy at the Bureau who might be able to help me. But still…”

“I think everyone deserves truth, even in death,” Edmond philosophized.

“I know, I agree. I just keep wondering how deep the rabbit hole goes.”

“However deep, I know you’ll plunge down it head first!” Edmond chuckled. “You search for truth, Aiden. You somehow manage to block out the politics, the drama and just see things in their simplest terms.”

“I’m not so sure.” Aiden thought of his previous case, the paternity suit involving Samuel and Deena Fern. Back then his vision had been impaired by his feelings for Brandy. Did Edmond know that Samuel had passed? Should he tell him?

“I know you’ll do the right thing by your friend, that you’ll honour his memory.” Edmond stated kindly.

“Thanks, Edmond, look—” Aiden was about to mention Samuel Fern’s death when the old man continued speaking, silencing him.

“You’re exactly what I was always looking for. Someone who sees the honour in upholding the law. It’s a privilege to be able to help others.”

“Indeed it is.”

“Could you ask Mrs. Copes to get a rush on with my dinner?” Edmond requested. Aiden realized that his colleague was politely asking him to leave, perhaps to resume his nap.

“Of course,” Aiden lingered for a moment, still debating telling Edmond about Samuel Fern.

“I know,” Edmond said gravely, his expression darkening. “I know about old Sam Fern. I fear that I may be set to join him all too soon.”

*

Aiden couldn’t shake Edmond’s foreboding words as he drove home. He kept telling himself that his old friend hadn’t meant it, that he hadn’t lost his will to fight. But he’d seen the acceptance darken Edmond’s eyes. The ravens were circling the Copes family home and Avalon looked set to lose another son.

Tears caused Aiden’s vision to blur. He quickly wiped his eyes and focused on the road ahead. He drove as slowly as he could. Partly because of his grief but also because he was in no rush to arrive at an empty home. When he walked through the front door there would be no one there to welcome him, no Meegan to clap her hands and smile when she saw him.

“Dammit,” Aiden wiped away more tears and, despite his reduced pace, he was already turning to central Avalon, his home less than five minutes’ drive away.

*

As Aiden had feared, the silence he met upon his arrival hit against him like a hard, cold wall. Running his hands through his hair, he paused in the hallway waiting for the empty feeling which had gathered in his gut to subside but it didn’t. Reluctantly he moved into the kitchen and went directly to the fridge where he pulled out a bottle of beer. He popped the cap and took a long drink, hoping that the fermented liquid could go some way towards making him feel whole again. As he drank, he spotted the light blinking in the hallway on the answering machine. People rarely called him on the house number as he often wasn’t in. Bemused, he moved back into the hallway and pressed the play button.

“You have one new message.” An electronic female voice told him.

“Hi, Aid, it’s me.” Isla’s voice echoed around the house. It was eerie to hear her but not have her there.

“I wanted to leave you a message so that when you get in from work you’re not…you know. Totally alone. God, this is harder than I thought it would be.” There was a pause.

Aiden stared down at the answering machine as he continued to drink his beer.

“And I also knew you wouldn’t answer as you’d be out as I think it would be strange to talk. At least, so soon. Anyway, Aid, I hope you’re okay. Meegan and I are doing fine at my parents though my mother is driving me crazy,” she lowered her voice on the latter part to almost a whisper.

“I’m moving back to Chicago next week. I’m taking up my old job there, I’ve found a small apartment to rent and located a nursery I can take Meegs to. She’s fine, by the way, keeps asking where you are…”

Isla’s voice moved away from the phone. Aiden couldn’t quite make out what she was saying but he caught snippets.

“In a minute. On the phone. Clean her up then.”

“Sorry. Just, my mother… Anyway, I was thinking maybe you could have Meegan the weekend after next? I just don’t want her travelling too much, she needs to feel settled once we’re in Chicago. There’s still so much we need to iron out. But I hope you’re okay, Aid. I hope Avalon is still being the home you always hoped it would be.”

“Mommy?” Aiden heard his daughter in the background and his heart buoyed with hope. Was she going to speak to him? Would she tell him that she missed him? That she loved him?

The call abruptly ended and Aiden was once more alone with only silence for company. He frowned angrily at the answering machine. As much as he appreciated Isla calling, he wanted to hear from Meegan, from his daughter.

Aiden drained the rest of his beer and then stalked back into the kitchen for a fresh bottle.

*

It was the evenings which hit Aiden the hardest. He’d turn on the TV and watch some gory drama or action film that Isla would normally veto, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything. It felt strange to think that above him all the rooms were empty. Meegan wasn’t in her bedroom sleeping soundly. She was miles away at his in-laws.

Regret pinched at Aiden’s temple, threatening a headache the following morning. Everything he’d done had been for Meegan’s benefit. He’d thought that moving to Avalon would give her a better life. Had he failed as a father for not having achieved that?

Three empty beer bottles had collected at Aiden’s feet and still he felt unbearably connected to the present. He needed to detach. He got up and pulled a bottle of scotch from a cabinet. He didn’t bother with a glass.

When he sat back down in front of the TV, he drank directly from the bottle. The scotch burned his throat as he knocked it back but it also warmed his body; bathing it in a comforting glow. He kept drinking until the images on the screen became blurred.

*

Aiden jolted awake. For a second he had no idea where he was. On the TV there was an infomercial about some cleaning solution and outside the back yard was now hidden by the dense cover of nightfall.

Groaning, Aiden ran a hand down his face. His limbs seemed sluggish and slow to respond to his commands. He was drunk. In his stupor he briefly wondered what time it was. He had a flight to catch early the next day. First he’d planned to stop by the office and see Betty. He needed to check in on her, see how she was doing. Lately he’d been avoiding the office as much as possible, working there without Edmond present seemed wrong somehow.

The emptiness in his stomach had returned more vacuous than ever. But as Aiden stretched back on the sofa and examined the feeling, he realized that it wasn’t a new sensation. The hole had been there all along, only now he was acutely aware of its presence as he had nothing to distract him from his inner pain.

His drunken mind summoned up the cause of his ongoing sorrow and Aiden clumsily retrieved his cell phone from his pocket and dialled the number he had committed to memory.

*

Brandy awoke suddenly, panicked by the high-pitched chime of her telephone which was blasting out into the darkness of her apartment. Her heart immediately started hammering manically in her chest. She hated being abruptly pulled out of the respite of deep sleep. Already she could feel the adrenalin coursing through her veins, preparing her body to either fight or flight whatever had disturbed her.

She dropped out of bed and hurried out of her bedroom, her bare feet quickly growing cold. She answered her house phone on the sixth ring.

“Hello?” She hadn’t even had time to consider who might be calling at such an ungodly hour.

“Brandy?” She heard her name but it sounded unfamiliar in their slurred, elongated drawl.

“Who is this?” Brandy demanded curtly. Away from the comfort of her blankets, she was shivering. She wrapped her free arm around her and leaned into the receiver which was cradled between her shoulder and ear.

“Brandy…It’s, it’s Aiden.”

For a second her heart stopped.

“Aiden?” She started to wonder if she was just dreaming and in a few minutes she’d awaken warm in her bed.

“Why are you calling me? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“I’m coming…” she heard Aiden pause to clear his throat. “I’m coming to Chicago tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“I’d like to see you.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I need to see you,” Aiden clarified. There was something in his voice which made Brandy strain to catch every word he uttered down the line. He sounded like the Aiden who had wanted to be with her, who had promised them a future. But then that Aiden had let her down and returned to Avalon and his life there.

“I thought you weren’t going to call me again,” she told him, her tone strong and defiant. She trembled as she spoke and wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from the power of her own emotions.

“We need to talk,” Aiden told her. His voice still sounded distorted slightly but his words now held conviction.

“Aiden—”

“Things here have changed. Please, Brandy. Let me see you.”

Brandy willed herself to be strong, to tell him no, to tell him to leave her alone. She needed to focus on getting her life together in Chicago.

“I miss you,” Aiden sounded broken when he uttered the three small words. “I miss you every day.”

The trembling intensified and Brandy had to lower herself down on to the nearby couch. Tears began to gather in her dark eyes.

“Will you see me?”

Brandy took a deep breath. Fate, she mused, was a cruel mistress. Each time she tried to pull away from Aiden he was randomly flung back into her life.

“Okay,” she conceded, speaking softly. “But don’t make me regret it.”

*

Aiden ended the call and felt a smile begin to raise the ends of his mouth. As much as he missed Isla’s company and hated not seeing his daughter, his impending divorce meant that he was finally free to follow his heart. He could at last be with Brandy. Elated by the prospect of seeing her, Aiden suddenly felt completely awake and alert. He checked the time on his phone. It was three in the morning. It was too early to go to work but arguably too late to go to bed.

He lifted himself off the couch and headed upstairs to shower. As he walked through his home he was unaware of the silence, oblivious to the emptiness which had previously gnawed at him.

*

Buck Fern watched the sun rise over Avalon’s cemetery. The headstones cast small shadows across the grass as the golden sphere rose on the horizon. His grey eyes observed the scene numbly, shielded beneath his Stetson.

There were countless rows of headstones. Each marked the final resting place of a former Avalon resident. Buck knew most of the names chiselled into each piece of stone but some were unfamiliar even to him; residents who had come to pass long before he had even been conceived.

His parents had been laid to rest side by side in the cemetery. They had passed when Buck was young enough for it to impact his life substantially. Soon his brother would join them. Only, unlike Pamela and Burt Fern, he would be entombed in a private mausoleum which he’d had purposefully built almost ten years ago. Buck thought it was ostentatious and unnecessary, but Samuel was adamant that his remains were too precious to be buried in the ground. Buck had resented his decision, resented his lack of humility. If the ground was good enough for their beloved parents, then surely it was good enough for them?

The sun was almost fully visible in the sky and birds chattered excitedly in the trees which bordered the cemetery. A new day was about to commence. Buck pushed himself off the bonnet of his car and moved back towards the driver’s seat. He stopped briefly before getting in, one hand resting on the car door. He looked back at the accurate lines of headstones, most of them now fully bathed in the sun’s light. He realized that he recognized a lot more names than he used to. Instinctively his gaze drifted to the east, in the direction where Brandon White was buried.