Third to Die (9 page)

Aiden scanned the certificate and spotted the anomaly. He looked back at Maureen, his eyes wide with surprise.

“How can this be right?” he pointed at the document he was holding.

“That’s what the coroner gave me,” Maureen shrugged. “I’d been saying he wouldn’t have skidded out that night, and then I get that. People started listening to me then.”

Aiden looked back at the certificate in disbelief.

“It says the cause of death is unconfirmed.”

“I know.” Maureen raised her cigarette back to her lips. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To find out what really happened to my boy?”

Aiden felt his heart begin to quicken nervously in his chest. He’d assumed that it was all just rumours; that Justin lost control of his bike that night and the police report had merely gone missing. Aiden had come to Greensburg with the aim of putting his old friend’s fears to rest and giving them all closure over Justin’s death. He didn’t anticipate that there might actually be any truth to it all.

“Someone killed him,” Maureen’s eyes narrowed as she spoke. “They killed him and then it was covered up.”

“Mrs. Thompson—”

“Aiden, can you do this for Justin? Can you find out who killed him? Please.” Maureen’s voice became strained with emotion. Aiden looked at the certificate and sighed.

“Do you give me authority to act on your behalf?” he asked her, his tone formal.

“Yes.”

“Because as your lawyer in the matter of accessing Justin’s life insurance, we need a clear cause of death.”

“Justin didn’t have no life insurance.”

“The police don’t know that.” Aiden leaned forward. “You were distressed over the death and unable to even consider claiming on the policy until now.”

“Yes, okay.” Maureen nodded quickly in compliance.

“I’ll do everything I can to find the truth,” he promised her. “But if even his death certificate has been tampered with, then I imagine this may go way up chain, far beyond my level of expertise.”

“I appreciate anything you can do.”

*

“So, the rumours are true,” Alex Gordon cried, “the prodigal son has returned!”

Aiden walked into the Greensburg Police Department and found his old friend loitering near the front desk.

“Let’s take a look at you!” Alex came over and scanned Aiden. He tilted his head slightly and raised his eyebrows.

“Nice suit.”

“Nice uniform,” Aiden smirked as he took in the strange sight of Alex dressed as a cop. It seemed surreal, like he was just playing dress-up for a Halloween party.

“I think I wear it well,” Alex winked.

Time had been kinder to Alex than it had to John Rogers. His hair was still thick and brown and his green eyes held some of their youthful glimmer. The only hint of his changed physique came from his middle, where the material of his uniform had been stretched to its limit.

“It’s good to see you,” Aiden said sincerely as the two men briefly embraced, patting one another on the back as they used to in high school.

“It’s been too long!” Alex told him sternly. “Chicago isn’t the moon you know, you could have come back!”

“I know.” Aiden blushed slightly with shame.

“Let’s talk somewhere a little quieter,” Alex led Aiden through to the main station and to his own private office which had a glass door with his name painted on it.

Inside the office there was a small desk with a chair either side. Aiden sat down across from Alex.

“You’ve got your own office, nice.” Aiden smiled.

“There’s just a lack of talent in this town, that’s all. They’ve got to take what they can get.”

Aiden laughed politely. For a moment, as he looked at Alex, it wasn’t hard to imagine they were back in high school, sat on the bleachers waiting for Justin and John to join them. The four of them had been inseparable and now they were almost strangers.

“John said you’ve got nice place over in Avalon, beautiful wife and kid.”

“It’s nice there. Quiet.”

“Quiet doesn’t always mean nice,” Alex remarked. He leaned forward across the desk and lowered his voice.

“So, John told you about Justin? About all them rumours?” His gaze flickered up when someone in a blue uniform walked past but they didn’t stop or come in.

“He told me,” Aiden nodded, keeping his own voice low. “And I went to see Justin’s Mom this morning.”

“Oh?”

“If I have any hope of finding anything out I need to be acting on her behalf, with her as a client on a pro bono case.”

“Okay,” Alex frowned and bit his lip. “So you think there is something to find out?”

“I wasn’t sure but then she showed me this.” Aiden slid the death certificate across the table. Discreetly, Alex opened it and read the details. After a few minutes his forehead creased in confusion.

“What does cause of death classified mean?” he looked expectantly at Aiden.

“I don’t know.”

Another uniformed officer sauntered past the little office. Alex shoved the paper back towards Aiden.

“You should keep that safe,” he whispered. Aiden placed it back within the internal pocket of his suit jacket.

“I tried to find the report,” Alex continued. “But it’s not here. There is no record of Justin’s accident.”

Aiden thought this over. There had to be a police report surrounding Justin’s death. It wasn’t at the Greensburg Police Station, so it just meant that it was somewhere else, possibly somewhere more secure.

“Did you find anything?”

“Nothing,” Alex shook his head. “And I couldn’t go asking questions as people would be suspicious about why I wanted to see it. I can’t go risking my job.”

“I understand. But I’m here acting as Maureen’s Thompson’s lawyer and I need to see the police report. She’s trying to access Justin’s life insurance and they won’t accept the death certificate as it is.”

“She is?” Alex’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, she is,” Aiden nudged his ear with his left shoulder. It was a gesture he’d not used since he’d left Greenburg. It had been a silent code amongst the friends to indicate when they were lying or in the presence of someone they disliked. Alex immediately recognized it.

“Well, in that case I can put in a formal request to view the report for you.” He pulled open one of his desk drawers and searched around for the relevant paperwork.

“How long does a request like that usually take?” Aiden thought of Isla back in Avalon, struggling with her morning sickness and Meegan alone. He also thought of Edmond. He was due in the hospital at the end of the week for more chemotherapy and Aiden had agreed to take him. It wasn’t a commitment he was prepared to break.

“A day, maybe two,” Alex shrugged. “I can put a rush on it if you need to be getting back?”

“Thanks.”

“We should all go out for drinks while you’re here,” Alex suggested brightly. “Be like old times.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Aiden tried to sound enthusiastic but he knew it would never be like old times. There would always be that fourth, unoccupied, chair, that ghost in the room.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Alex smiled at his old friend, looking up from filling out the form on his desk.

*

Skinny Jacks was the main bar in Greensburg. It was positioned just off the main square. On dry nights the sound of the revelry from inside could be heard throughout the town.

The bar had been there when Aiden was in high school. Back then, he was too young to go in. He’d slink past, hands in pockets, with his friends by his side smelling the stale cigarette-laced air which wafted out from the open doors.

Little had changed inside Skinny Jacks except the air no longer smelled of smoke, instead it carried the pungent odour of stale liquor and desperation. Aiden followed Alex as he eagerly stepped inside. A few men curled up on bar stools looked up from the drinks they were nursing to wave.

“Hey, Trevor, Bob,” Alex nodded at them, his tone light and friendly. The men turned back to the bar, uninterested in Aiden.

“There he is.” Alex pointed to a table towards the back of the small bar where John was already sitting, bottle of beer in hand.

Aiden felt something tighten in his chest when he looked at him. It just didn’t seem right for the three of them to be meeting like this when they were missing their fourth. It felt as though he were somehow cheating on Justin’s memory.

“I’ll grab us some beers,” Alex clapped Aiden on the back as he headed back towards the bar and Trevor and Bob.

“Hey,” John greeted him before placing his bottle against his lips and drinking deeply.

“Seems strange to be in this place, huh?” Aiden said, glancing around. The wallpaper in Skinny Jacks was peeling and the varnish on the tables was chipped but it was a pleasant enough bar. An old jukebox in the corner played relatively modern songs which formed a backdrop against the constant wall of chatter circulating amongst the regulars.

“What’s strange is seeing you here,” John tilted his almost-empty bottle towards Aiden. “I started to doubt I’d live to see the day when you came back to Greenburg.”

John’s tone was slightly hostile. Aiden realized that he was already drunk.

“Well, I’m here now,” Aiden shifted awkwardly in his seat.

“You thought you were too good for this town,” John continued, slurring his words. “Yet you’ve ended up in some backwater shithole anyhow.”

Aiden flinched slightly at such a negative reference to Avalon.

“I never thought I was too good for Greensburg,” he quickly clarified. “I just couldn’t handle being here. Everywhere I looked, he was there.”

John nodded knowingly at this.

“You got your distance though,” he pointed again at Aiden. “Me and Alex, we had to deal with everyone watching us, talking behind our backs. Talking about Justin, about that night.”

“Here,” Alex returned and placed a cooled bottle of beer in front of Aiden.

“Thanks.”

“So what are you two ladies gossiping about?” Alex asked with a smile as he sat down between them.

“Ghosts,” John replied wryly. “I’m out.” He looked down into his empty bottle, his face creasing slightly with disappointment.

“I’ll get us all another round in.” He stood up and headed over to the bar before anyone could protest.

“He’s found it harder than me,” Alex nodded in the direction of the bar. “He gets real depressed about it all sometimes. I think it played a part in ending his marriage, not that he’ll talk about it.”

“That sucks,” Aiden said.

“Yeah,” Alex sighed.

For a moment the two men were silent as they each drank from their bottles of beer.

“He was desperate to bring you back here.” Alex lowered his bottle from his lips, holding Aiden in a steely gaze.

“I kept telling him that you’d moved on with your life, that you wouldn’t want to be dragged into whatever mess is going on here. But when I couldn’t find that police report, and then you showed up on the TV, well, he was certain then that we needed your help.”

“I’m happy to help.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Alex told him gravely. His usually jovial demeanour was gone, replaced by a hardened look that spoke of the years he’d spent carrying the weight of his best friend’s untimely death.

“Whatever really happened to Justin, it won’t be good, will it? It’s not like he was actually abducted by aliens and in a few years he’ll return to us.”

John came back cradling armfuls of beer. He was holding nine bottles in total.

“Jeeze!” Alex exclaimed when he saw him. “I’ve got work tomorrow, you know?”

“Drink up,” John ordered his friends as he carefully lowered the bottles onto the table.

“Tonight we drown our sorrows and reminisce and tell stupid drunken stories. Tonight we honour Justin’s memory. Tomorrow we search for his truth.”

“Can’t argue with that,” John shrugged, reaching forward for a fresh bottle of beer.

The trio toasted their fallen friend and downed their copious bottles of beer. They ordered shots, they played their favourite songs on the jukebox and laughed gregariously together. As the alcohol worked its magic, the pain of Justin’s loss eased and they fell back into the familiar routine of being together, of having fun. For a blissful moment they were no longer three grown men but three high school friends just out having a good time.

*

“Brandy, your client is waiting,” Carol Cotton told her niece sharply.

“Okay, yes, sorry,” Brandy quickly slipped out of her coat and straightened the dress she was wearing underneath. She’d been playing on her beloved piano and lost track of time. Not daring to waste another minute, she hurried over to a middle-aged woman with short, dark hair.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she told the woman sat in the stylist’s chair. She looked up at Brandy in the mirror she was facing and smiled thinly. “Not a problem.”

“Was it just a cut?” Brandy asked as she picked up the nearby hairdressing scissors which were already sterilized.

“Yeah, just a trim and tidy,” the woman clarified. She overly extended all her words on account of her Southern drawl. Brandy tensed slightly with the scissors in hand. The only Southern accents she was used to hearing belonged to her and her aunt.

“Are you from the city?” Brandy asked politely as she began to trim away some of the woman’s loose ends.

“Hell, no!” the woman chortled. “I’m here on vacation.”

“How nice,” Brandy smiled warmly. As she worked, the woman observed her in the mirror with growing intensity.

“I know you,” she eventually declared.

Brandy paused and frowned, locking eyes with the woman in the mirror. Beneath her short dark hair she had heavily made-up eyes which now regarded Brandy with keen interest.

“I definitely know you,” she confirmed, raising a hand to point a large ruby-red manicured nail at the mirror, thus at Brandy.

“I…don’t think we’ve met,” Brandy told her politely. The woman was a total stranger to her.

“I know you!” the woman cried, pouting her lips which were the same vibrant red as her nails. She was silent for a moment as her mind searching through its vast stores of memories.

Brandy continued cutting.

“You’re off the TV!” the woman suddenly shrieked, delighted to have remembered.