Third to Die (17 page)

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Authors: Carys Jones

BOOK: Third to Die
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“Are you even listening to me?” Aiden demanded, losing his patience. He knew he should just turn the old sherriff in. But he’d learned how Avalon worked. Even this flagrant disregard of the laws of the land wouldn’t be enough to dethrone Buck. He could kill a man point-blank at a crowded football game and Aiden was certain that everyone there would say they hadn’t seen a thing.

“He’s gone,” Buck bunched up his withered face in pain.

“Who’s gone?”

“That last breath left him just after three. And she was there, hovering like a vulture, waiting for him to pass.”

“Has someone died? Was it your brother, Buck?” Concern thawed some of Aiden’s anger as he spoke.

“He’s gone,” Buck repeated. He ran a hand down his face and almost lost his footing again. Aiden swiftly supported his shoulders, helping him remain standing.

“So your brother died?”

“Yes!” Buck exclaimed sending a shower of spittle into the air. “He’s with Ma and Pa now. The doctor said he went peacefully but what does he know? There’s no peace in reaching your end.”

Buck tried to move back towards the interior to the patrol car. His movements were slow and clumsy and Aiden spotted what he was headed towards before he had chance to get it.

Aiden slammed the car door shut; sealing off the open bottle of Jack Daniel’s lying on the passenger seat. It wasn’t even concealed by a paper bag.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Buck, truly I am. But you can’t drive around town drunk off your ass. Let me take you home.”

He pitied the old man. But there was something more to it than that. Perhaps it was his own sudden isolation; he’d lost his whole family unit overnight, that meant he understood Buck’s despair over losing his brother. Sometimes, when a pain cuts so deep, all you want to do is drink yourself into oblivion.

“He was my brother,” Buck stated simply. Aiden noticed the way his grey eyes brimmed with unshed tears. Like the clouds hanging over them, his eyes were heavy with water, destined to rain down at any given moment.

Buck blinked rapidly, forcing the tears back. He was a proud man and proud men don’t cry.

“What’s the point?” Buck asked pessimistically.

Aiden glanced nervously down the road. They wouldn’t be alone for much longer, soon someone would drive by and wonder what was wrong with the sherriff.

“You don’t want to lose your job over this,” Aiden advised sternly. “If you lose your job, you’ll have lost everything. As much as I loathe you, Buck, I don’t wish such sorrow on any man. Let’s get you home and sobered up.”

“No!” Buck declared fiercely, gripping on to his patrol car. “I’m so tired of losing people.”

As the old sherriff spoke, Aiden realized how little he really knew about him.

“Life can be pretty shit like that,” Aiden agreed. “At some point, everybody leaves.”

“You can’t fix Avalon,” Buck turned to face Aiden with resentment now burning behind his eyes, evaporating the gathered tears.

“You come here, fancy city boy, trying to change things. But you can’t! This town was built on blood, it’s a legacy! He wanted you gone!”

He tapped Aiden with a pointed finger and visibly seethed.

“He hated you. He wanted to send you back to that city with your tail between your legs.”

“Who did, your brother?”

“And he went and fucking died before he could finish the job.”

“Look, Buck. I’m not going to stand here all day and have you insult me. Let me take you home. Have someone come pick up your patrol car later, say it broke down. I’ll take you to your place where you can sleep it off. What do you say?”

“Fine,” Buck muttered, allowing Aiden to guide him back towards his car. He placed the drunken sherriff in the passenger seat, buckled his belt for him and was about to climb into the driver’s side when he thought of something. He ran back to the patrol car and reached inside for the bottle of Jack Daniels. Then he jogged back to his car and threw the half-drunk bottle into his trunk.

Buck watched this with a wry smile upon his thin lips.

“Okay,” Aiden breathed as he got behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. “Which way to yours?”

“I see what you did there, Mr. Connelly,” Buck pointed out at his patrol car. Aiden blushed.

“I’m just trying to help you,” he explained, his voice low. “You’re hurting because your brother died, I get that. You made some stupid decisions but do you really want to lose your sherriff’s badge over this?”

Buck said nothing, he merely raised his wispy eyebrows and smiled to himself.

“I don’t think there’s anything to smile about!” Aiden told the old man curtly.

“Isn’t there?” Buck asked, turning his head so that he was looking directly at Aiden. “I thought there was no hope for you but I might be wrong after all. You’re more Avalon than I realized.”

“What do you mean?” Aiden could feel his cheeks burning; he knew the old man was baiting him and that he was walking right into his trap.

“You know I’m drunk as a skunk, yet you’re going to assist me getting home, help keep my little drive quiet. You even made sure to hide the evidence. I’ve done my fair share of clean-ups in my day. Brandon used to keep me pretty busy. I just didn’t think you had it in you. I thought you were too good, too righteous.”

Buck’s eyelids began to droop. His drunken haze was developing into more of a malaise, causing him to feel sleepy and relaxed.

“I’m helping you because it’s the right thing to do,” Aiden insisted as he commenced driving, giving the parked patrol car a wide berth as he passed it.

“Is it?” Buck asked, his voice becoming low and dreamy. “In the eyes of the law do I get a pardon because my brother just died? I don’t think so.”

“Look, let’s just get you back,” Aiden said tersely.

“You thought you could rise above it all. You thought you were so high and mighty yet here you are, doing things the Avalon way.” Buck was smiling but his eyes were now closed.

Aiden opened his mouth to argue but realized that he had nothing to say. As awful as it was, the old man was right. Aiden had assisted him in covering up his little drunken outing and why? To protect him? Just as Buck had once protected Brandon?

“No,” Aiden muttered to himself as he drove. Buck’s breathing deepened as he drifted off to sleep. This was different, this was an act of kindness to stop a depressed old man self-destructing. Aiden had done the right thing; he wasn’t adhering to the Avalon way. Was he?

Chapter Eight

The Weight of Living

Aiden hadn’t spoken to Guy Chambers since college. Back then they had been in the same dorms and shared a few classes. In many ways, Guy was a lot like Aiden; he was hard-working and ambitious but he loved to party and let off steam. Aiden had only fond memories of Guy. At least during college.

Sat at his kitchen table, Aiden stared intently at his cell phone. He recalled the last time he had seen Guy.

It had been raining in Chicago as Aiden stepped into the courthouse. He shook off the large black umbrella he had been carrying and dropped it into the appropriate stand. Then he spotted Claire Chambers across the hall. She looked worryingly pale and dark shadows had gathered beneath her pale-blue eyes. Aiden gave her a slight smile but she scowled at him and immediately turned away. Despite being seven months’ pregnant, he remembered how slim Claire was.

Aiden was representing Guy through his divorce. Guy had met Claire in college, around the same time Aiden had met Isla. For a while the four of them had been friends. Then Isla and Claire graduated and Aiden and Guy knuckled down to complete their intense courses.

Guy was still studying when Claire got pregnant. In a panic, he married her. Claire was from a traditional Southern family and it wouldn’t do for her to have a child out of wedlock. Six months later, he was about to join the bureau and realized how much he didn’t want a wife, or a child.

He corresponded with Aiden through email, enlisting his services to act as his divorce lawyer. Aiden had only been working for less than a month, Guy’s would be one of his first cases. This meant that he had to win. Guy had been ruthless in his requirements; he wanted to be completely severed from Claire and for her to be awarded full custody of their child. As brutal as Aiden knew it was, he acted at his client’s behest and managed to win the case.

When Aiden looked across at Claire in the courtroom, he saw that Claire was weeping into the shoulder of her own lawyer. Further back in the room, Guy Chambers promptly stood up and walked out. He’d only been present for the hearing, refusing to partake in what he labelled the “charade” of courtroom antics. He didn’t even glance back at the mother of his child. It was the last time Aiden saw him.

“Shit,” Aiden grumbled to himself as he spun his cell phone around on the kitchen table. He didn’t want to call Guy. He wanted to leave him in the past. But he had no choice. Justin’s death deserved an explanation.

Aiden dialled a number he rarely ever had cause to use. He dialled the Chicago offices for the FBI.

Almost twenty minutes later and Aiden had finally procured a direct line for Agent Chambers. The man on the other end of the line had been dubious about Aiden’s intentions, but thankfully he finally accepted his story of needing to consult with the agent over a previous case. Aiden had to give his full name, date of birth and passport details just to get the number. Now he was sat listening to it ring out, crossing his fingers that it was the right number.

“Chambers,” Guy answered after the fourth ring. He barked his own name with forceful energy.

“Hi…Guy. It’s Aiden. Aiden Connelly.”

“Connelly?” He heard Guy’s tone soften slightly though it remained brisk.

“Yeah, hey. Long time no speak, right?”

“You’re calling me at the Bureau,” Aiden heard the squeak of a chair as Guy leaned back. “So I’m going to assume this is a professional call, not a personal one.”

“It’s kind of both,” Aiden admitted awkwardly.

“Oh?”

“Look, I hate to do this,” Aiden sighed. “But I need to call in that favour you owe me.”

For a moment Guy was silent.

“Guy?”

“How big a favour are we talking?” Guy asked suspiciously.

“Moderate.”

“Can you meet me later in the city?”

“Can we make it tomorrow? I don’t live in Chicago anymore; I’ll have to fly in.”

Aiden heard Guy thumbing through papers.

“I can do three tomorrow. I can give you twenty minutes.”

“That’s all I need,” Aiden said brightly.

“You shouldn’t call me here.”

“I didn’t know how else to find you.”

“That’s kind of the point.”

Aiden rested his head in his free hand.

“I wouldn’t have called if I wasn’t desperate.”

“Okay, okay, save me the pity speech. I’ll see you tomorrow. At the place with burgers.” Then Guy abruptly ended the call.

“Jeeze,” Aiden shook his head and pulled his lips into a thin line. He hadn’t anticipated a warm welcome from Guy but he’d also hoped he’d be a little more civil. Aiden wasn’t sure if he was just agitated at being disturbed at work or just annoyed to hear from him at all.

With little time to waste, Aiden made another call to an airline company. He had a flight to book.

*

“Mr. Connelly,” Edna looked flustered as she opened the front door. “What a surprise! We were expecting you yesterday!”

“Hi, Edna,” Aiden suddenly felt unbearably sheepish. He knew he should have called before going over but once he got in his car it had seemed such a great idea to spontaneously check in on Edmond.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come round yesterday. Something came up.” He wasn’t going to elaborate about how he’d come across a drunken Buck Fern.

“Well, come on in.” Edna forced a polite smile and opened the door fully. Inside, the house felt cold and the air was pungent with the metallic odour of medicine and cleaning products.

“Thanks.” Aiden stepped in and waited as she sealed the door shut behind him. He immediately noticed how quiet the house was.

“Have the family been round?”

“Yes,” Edna nodded. “Too much really. As much as he loved to see them, it’s exhausting him. Some days I have to keep them away so he can rest.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I can leave if he needs to rest,” Aiden gestured towards the now-closed door.

“You’re not going to climb on to his lap, are you?” Edna asked, a strain of humour lifting her voice.

“Probably not,” Aiden smiled.

“Then you should be fine. The grandkids, they just…struggle to understand he’s sick. They want him to play and rough house with him like he normally would. And when he just sits there, they get this disappointed look in their eyes and that makes Edmond feel wretched.”

As Edna spoke, she guided Aiden towards the living room which had become Edmond’s medical epicentre. Once the doors were opened, the metallic odour intensified. The curtains were open, letting in the grey light of the afternoon. Since the cloud cover remained, the sun’s presence had been held at bay.

“Edmond, you’ve got a visitor,” Edna moved towards her husband and lowered herself to his level. His head was slumped against his right shoulder and his eyes were closed. She gently tapped his other shoulder.

Edmond awoke with a start. For a second he looked completely bewildered by his surroundings and then his features settled.

“Why are you waking me up?” he asked groggily. Then, in a more chipper tone; “Is it dinner time already?”

“Not quite,” Edna stroked his cheek which was covered in sporadic growths of grey hair. Edmond needed a shave.

“Aiden has come to see you.”

“Aiden, my lad!” Edmond turned to where Aiden was standing quietly near the doorway.

“Come in, come in!” he ushered his young colleague towards him with his hands.

“Can I get you some sweet tea?” Edna asked as she passed him on her way out.

“I’m all right, thanks though.” Aiden didn’t want to put her out anymore than he already was.

“Are you here to talk shop?” Edmond squirmed in his chair so that he was sitting straighter.

“If you like.”

Aiden tried to ignore how diminished Edmond now appeared. It was as if he were literally fading into his surroundings. Each time Aiden saw him he was thinner, his skin more translucent. He feared that one day Edna would go to wake her husband and he’d have disappeared entirely.

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