Third to Die (4 page)

“It’s okay,” Aiden briefly embraced Edna and tried to hold back his own tears.

“You mean so much to him,” Edna wiped at her cheek out of habit, even though she wasn’t crying in that moment.

“If anyone can fight this, he can,” Aiden told her confidently before stepping out into the heat of the afternoon and walking back to his car.

*

Aiden turned the stereo in his car up so that it was distractingly loud. He needed something to distract him from his darkening thoughts. He’d so desperately wanted Clyde White to be wrong but it truly did seem that Edmond was fading away. It was so cruel a fate for such a vibrant, charismatic man.

Drumming his hands against the steering wheel in time to the music, Aiden forced himself to hum along, to focus solely on the garish rhythm of the pop song being filtered through his car’s speakers. He became so hypnotised by the overly produced record that it took him a second to notice the flashing lights in his rear-view mirror. Lowering the music, Aiden realized with dismay that the lights were accompanied by the stringent shriek of sirens. Slowing, he pulled up on to the side of the road and cut his engine.

“Dammit,” he grumbled angrily to himself. He was certain that he hadn’t been speeding. He’d admittedly been distracted but he’d still managed to adhere to the laws of the road.

As Aiden glanced up into his mirror he noticed a familiar figure exit the squad car, which was now pulled up behind him. The pointed boots of Buck Fern stepped out into the gathered dust on the roadside and began to approach Aiden’s car.

“Dammit,” Aiden uttered again, opening his car window and then carefully placing his hands at ten and two on the wheel.

He could hear the old sherriff’s prolonged, deliberate steps before he finally appeared at his window, casting a shadow across Aiden as he blocked out the afternoon sun.

“Afternoon, Sherriff,” Aiden tried to sound as amicable as he could.

“Connelly,” Buck replied gruffly, snarling as he uttered the greeting.

Buck placed one hand on the car’s roof and lowered himself to look in at Aiden.

“Mind stepping out of the car?” Even though Buck delivered it as a question, they both knew it was a directive.

“Seriously?” Aiden asked, bewildered but already unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Seriously,” Buck confirmed coldly as he stepped back and waited for Aiden to get out.

The few cars that passed them slowed slightly to observe the encounter taking place, the drivers eager to gather some gossip they could take home and share over the dinner table.

Aiden got out and slammed his door shut and then looked directly at Buck Fern, searching the old man’s grey eyes for some hint of rationality.

“Where you headed?” Buck drawled out the words as though he had all the time in the world to kill.

“Home,” Aiden instinctively replied. Then he realized that this wasn’t entirely true. He had planned to swing by the office and speak with Betty. Before he left Edmond, his dwindling colleague had insisted that he inform his loyal secretary of the severity of his condition.

“But don’t go worrying the old girl too much,” Edmond advised. “Just tell her the basics. Seems word is getting out and if she hears it from anyone other than you or I there will be hell to pay!”

Aiden ran a hand through his hair and felt the stifling heat of the afternoon beginning to penetrate through his shirt and cause his skin to break out in beads of sweat. He yearned to be back in the air-conditioned comfort of his car.

“Did you stop me just to ask where I’m going?” Aiden cried angrily. He lacked the patience for Buck Fern’s games. The old sherriff had picked the wrong time to try and rattle his cage.

“Partly,” Buck admitted, smirking slightly. “I thought you might be skipping town.”

“Skipping town? What? Why?”

“I think you’d do well to skip town,” Buck continued.

“I’m sure you do think that,” Aiden glanced back longingly at his car.

“Your wife received anymore of those strange letters?”

Aiden felt his whole body suddenly chill despite the heat of the day. He looked at Buck with renewed interest. “What makes you ask that?”

“Last time I saw Mrs. Connelly she was real worried about some threatening letters ya’ll had received telling you to leave Avalon.”

“They were just the laments of some bitter crackpot,” Aiden told him sourly. “Nothing to be taken seriously.”

“No?” Buck’s eyes widened and his tone elevated mockingly. “She seemed real concerned by them. And with good reason. People round here, they don’t like being ignored.”

“Look!” Aiden raised a hand towards the sherriff. “If you want to make thinly veiled threats, go ahead, but this isn’t the time.”

Angrily, Aiden began to storm back towards his car.

“I’m not sure how ethical it is to discuss a paternity case with someone other than your client,” Buck called after him. He was talking about his brother’s paternity case which Aiden had previously handled, albeit badly. His personal feelings for Brandy had managed to cause him to blur the lines surrounding his professional integrity.

Aiden paused with his hand just over the door handle which was already sizzling with heat beneath the sun.

“Did you think nothing would come of it?” Buck began advancing towards Aiden with those same slow, deliberate steps. “My brother is not a man to be trifled with, Mr. Connelly. He knows all about what you did. How you kept the truth about Davis’ paternity from him. How you ran off to Chicago to divulge it all to Brandy White. He knows what you did and you know he harbours a grudge.”

Sighing, Aiden looked towards the sherriff.

“I only ever acted in the best interests of the child.”

“First, you’re not a social worker, you’re a lawyer,” Buck pointed an accusing finger at Aiden as he spoke. “Second, telling Brandy White ain’t in the best interests of the child. You acted inappropriately, Mr. Connelly. At every turn within that case. My brother wants you disbarred and run out of town.”

“I’m sure you share your brother’s sentiments on that,” Aiden replied stiffly.

“You’re right there,” Buck smiled cruelly beneath his trademark Stetson. “But I’m much more forgiving than my brother. You’ve got one week, Mr. Connelly. One week to pack up and leave Avalon for good or else my brother will ruin you professionally. And you don’t want that, do you? To bring shame upon that young family of yours?”

Aiden struggled to absorb what Buck Fern was saying. He was blatantly making threats in the hope of running him out of town, but all Aiden could think about was Edmond.

Buck drew closer to him and scrutinized Aiden’s face. As he did so he suddenly straightened in shock.

“You been crying, boy?”

Surprised, Aiden wiped at his eyes. Sure enough they felt sore and slightly damp. He had been crying. As he drove away from Edmond’s house he must have unknowingly shed tears of despair as he tried to distract himself with the melodies from the radio.

“I…” Aiden floundered beneath the sherriff’s interrogation. He didn’t want to start discussing Edmond’s condition with him.

“I asked you a question.” Buck scowled in annoyance as he waited on his answer.

“Yes,” Aiden admitted helplessly. “I guess I was crying for a bit.”

“And what would make a grown man cry?” Buck’s voice lacked empathy or concern. His words were as sharp as steel and he directed them to cut against Aiden and increase his apparent anguish.

“It’s none of your business,” Aiden told him tersely, gripping the door handle and opening up his car as he prepared to leave.

“Everything is my business,” Buck placed his hand upon the open door like a claw, preventing Aiden from departing.

Aiden looked the old man directly in the eye, silently pleading with him to not press the matter further.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“How about I cuff you and take you back to my office? Think you might want to talk then?” Buck threatened.

Aiden closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. Clearly there was no way he was going to get rid of Buck Fern and his unending desire to pry into his personal business unless he gave him the truth he sought.

“I went to see Edmond.”

Buck immediately released his grip on the car door and stepped back slightly. He turned away from Aiden, gazing back down the long road upon which they had both been driving.

“I heard,” Buck said, still not looking at Aiden, “about his condition. It is truly a sorry state of affairs.”

“You hear through Clyde White?”

“Mmm.” Buck sharply turned back to face Aiden, his mouth drawn in a tight line.

“Can I go now?” Aiden gestured towards his car.

“Edmond Copes is a good man,” Buck declared fervently. “He’s a son of Avalon and everyone in this town loves him. Even you.”

Aiden flinched with surprise. It almost sounded like the old sherriff was paying him a compliment.

“I hate to see a good man suffer,” Buck lowered his head and spat into the road. When he looked back up at Aiden, some of the hate that burned behind his eyes seemed to have dissipated.

“Until Edmond is well again, you get a free pass in my eyes.”

Aiden straightened. The last person he expected to show any compassion regarding Edmond’s illness was Buck Fern.

“I do have a heart beating in this old chest of mine,” Buck clasped a hand against his regulation shirt.

“Edmond is a friend. If you take off now, he’ll be hurt. Last thing I want to do is hurt him. He needs us all right now.”

“Thank you?” Aiden said uncertainly. He wasn’t sure he truly understood what was transpiring between them.

“But once Edmond is well enough to get back on his feet, you tell him you’re done with Avalon and that you’re heading back to the city. We don’t need your kind round here, Mr. Connelly. You made an enemy of my brother which means that your days here are numbered.”

“Can I go now?”

“Yeah,” Buck sighed, waving a dismissive hand. “Go.”

Aiden was in the driver’s seat, about to drive off, when Buck reappeared at his window. The old man tapped it gently to instruct him to wind it down.

“Yes, sherriff?” Aiden asked, trying not to lose what little patience he had left.

“How was he? You said you’d just been to see Edmond. How was he?”

Aiden felt fresh tears start to push against his eyes.

“He’s…sick. He’s really sick.”

Buck tilted his head to once again spit upon the ground.

“He’s still got some fight in him though?” he asked hopefully.

“Definitely,” Aiden nodded a little too eagerly. “Edmond isn’t the sort of man to go down without a fight.”

“Yeah,” Buck smiled slightly at this. “I figured.” Then his gaze hardened once more as he looked back at Aiden.

“This thing between you and my brother. It ain’t over, Mr. Connelly. It’s just paused.”

“I understand.”

The old sherriff finally turned and started back towards his patrol car. Aiden waited until he’d pulled away and had driven out of sight before he manoeuvred his own car back on to the road. As much as he wanted to be heading home, he knew he owed Betty a visit.

*

Whenever Brandy entered her apartment the ritual was always the same. She’d cast off her coat, letting it fall across the back of her sofa, and then she’d rush over to her answering machine, buoyed by hope. Eagerly she’d cast her eyes across the digital display and when she saw that it starkly read zero, she’d lean against the nearby kitchen counter, deflated.

Why hadn’t Aiden called? Brandy had even taken to picking up her handset and checking that her line was still working. When she heard the dull drone of the open line her heart would plummet further, almost falling all the way down to her feet.

Filled with longing and despair, she would then eventually drift into her kitchen where she’d begin preparing her evening meal for one. As she boiled pasta and stirred vegetables, her mind would drift back to her last conversation with Aiden. She scrutinized every word, every facial expression, but try as she might, she couldn’t find any evidence to support his sudden abandonment of her.

The sound of her phone ringing made Brandy almost drop the spoon she was holding with shock. No one ever called. The shrill sound echoed around her apartment, shattering her standard evening ritual.

Brandy hurried over to the handset and answered the call. A part of her desperately wanted to hear Aiden’s voice on the other end of the line but it was Rhonda’s jovial tone which found its way to her ear drum.

“Brandy, hey,” Rhonda greeted her.

“Hi,” Brandy smiled thinly as she moved to sit on her sofa.

“I just wondered what you were doing tonight,” Rhonda asked. Brandy glanced around her apartment. She was doing what she did every night; making dinner for one followed by an evening sat eating ice cream from the tub and crying over a chick-flick. She had plans to mope.

“Not much,” Brandy replied nonchalantly.

“Wrong!” Rhonda declared excitedly. “You’re coming out with me!”

“I am?”

“Yep! I’m picking you up at eight-thirty and we are going to check out this new club downtown!”

“Oh.” Brandy looked across sadly at her television. She savoured the comfort of watching romantic movies on it and allowing herself to get lost in the plot. It enabled her to escape the mess which was her own love life.

“You need to stop moping around that apartment of yours and get out!” Rhonda insisted brightly.

Brandy wasn’t so sure. Her apartment had become safe and familiar. As much as she loved exploring Chicago, an evening in a club would mean meeting people. People who would ask for her story, for where she was from. As soon as anyone knew she was a widow who had almost been convicted of murdering her deceased husband they’d surely run a mile? Aiden had never once judged her for her past; she didn’t think someone new would be nearly as kind.

“You’re a beautiful Southern belle with a sparkling personality,” Rhonda told her confidently, seemingly aware of her colleague’s misgivings.

Brandy absently picked at a loose thread on her sofa as she listened. Lately her sparkle seemed to have dulled. Ever since Aiden hadn’t made good on his promise to return to her, Brandy had felt different, like she’d lost her anchor and was now adrift.