Читать книгу Fourth To Run - Carys Jones - Страница 10

Chapter Three

Questions Need Answers

If Aiden thought Avalon was hot, it was nothing compared to the intense heat which engulfed him as he exited the air conditioned coolness of the airport and headed towards the rental car pick-up point. By the time he’d signed his name, confirmed his identity and climbed into his car, his clothes were already sticking to him, a thin film of sweat covering his whole body.

Wiping his brow, Aiden was quick to turn on the car’s AC. Second, he set up the satellite navigation system.

“Input destination,” the automated female voice prompted him; the system was thankfully already set up in English.

Aiden typed in the name of the town which Guy Chambers had given him.

“San Migeno,” the female voice confirmed. “Calculating route.”

Aiden estimated it would take him almost three hours to drive from the airport to San Migeno. As his route illuminated on the digital screen on the dashboard, his heart sunk. It was looking more like five or six hours.

“Dammit.” Aiden put the car in Drive and pulled out of the parking lot. He had hoped to arrive in San Migeon in daylight but now he’d get there under cover of darkness which would heavily restrict what he could do once he got there. Mexico was a notoriously dangerous place, where the drug cartels were able to thrive. Aiden had no idea what to expect from San Migeon, but if the Caulerone brothers had a foothold there, he had to assume that it was far from safe and that it would be wise to restrict his movements around town to during the day.

*

Aiden was exhausted when he pulled into the parking lot of a motel just outside of San Migeon. The sun had set hours ago leaving an endless raven sky overhead to greet him. Aiden stepped up and looked up, noticing how the stars sparkled brightly above him, just like they did in Avalon.

A sharp pang of longing knocked the air out of Aiden’s lungs. He missed Brandy. Numerous times throughout his flight he’d thought of her; of her soft smile or her deep, dark eyes. He wished he could have bought her with him but it was far too dangerous. He wasn’t on a vacation. He was in San Migeno to find answers and he was determined to get them.

There were less than a dozen cars parked outside the motel as Aiden walked briskly towards the modest reception, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. A quick Internet search had told Aiden that this was the only motel anywhere near San Migeno, it was a town which wasn’t set up to accommodate guests. He wondered if Justin had ever been there, if he had, would he too have stopped at this same motel? The thought made Aiden’s heart seize in his chest. He imagined Justin confidently striding around, his motorbike idling in the parking lot waiting patiently for his return.

“How many nights?” the man behind the counter asked without looking up at Aiden. He had a thick black mustache which concealed his lips as he spoke.

“One,” Aiden replied simply. He didn’t want to risk being there too long and outstaying his welcome.

*

Wearing just cargo pants and a plain T-shirt, Aiden could feel himself wilting in the heat. The hour was still early; he’d been up since the first shards of sunlight had crept beneath his thin motel curtains upon dawn’s arrival. Aiden had barely slept. He tossed and turned on the hard mattress wondering what he might find in San Migeno. Might he even come face to face with Justin’s killer? What would he do if that happened? It was a prospect he hadn’t prepared for.

It was too hot for coffee. Aiden instead had a cool bottle of water from the vending machine outside the motel. Then he came back to his room and stretched out the map he’d purchased at the airport.

San Migeno was now less than two miles away and appeared to be not much larger than Avalon. To most people it would appear on the map as an insignificant speck. But it was towns like those which were far away from prying eyes out of which the cartels liked to operate. A stranger’s arrival would be noticed; they controlled the town and its inhabitants.

Despite the stifling heat, Aiden felt a sharp slice of frozen fear scratch down his back. What exactly was he about to walk into? If the people of San Migeno were anything like those back in Avalon he wouldn’t be getting a warm reception. Quite the opposite; he risked being interrogated or worse by the ruling cartel, the Caulerone brothers.

“What am I doing?” Aiden sighed as he lifted his gaze from the map to drink deeply from his bottle of water.

Everyone else back in Greensburg had managed to lay Justin to rest. They didn’t drive into the desert searching for his killer because Aiden hadn’t let them. He’d kept the truth from Alex and John, even from Justin’s mother. He was protecting them.

Aiden looked back at the map. He was protecting them from whatever evil presumably dwelled in San Migeno. But then why was he so willing to put himself in danger? Aiden let his head fall into his hands and he sat like that until his arms began to ache. The sound of his cell phone ringing forced him to sit up. Reluctantly he grabbed the device and placed it against his ear without checking who was calling.

“Aiden, it’s me, are you alright?” Brandy’s sweet voice crackled slightly on the line. Aiden smiled with relief and clung tightly to the phone.

“Hey, sweetheart, I’m okay. I’m in Mexico now.”

“I figured because when I rang it was real slow, almost like the phone was broken.”

Aiden’s smile widened at the comment but his heart began to burn in his chest. He was already missing Brandy terribly. He could feel each mile he’d placed between them as if they were weighing down on his chest, slowly crushing him.

“Is it nice there?” Brandy asked innocently.

“I’ve not seen much of it,” Aiden admitted. “I’ve mostly been driving.”

“But you’re there now?”

“Yeah, I’m here. When I arrived it was late else I would have called.” Aiden pressed his fingertips against his forehead which was damp with sweat despite the ceiling fan which continually pivoted above him with as much stealth as a jumbo jet.

“Actually…” Aiden sighed and reminded himself how he wanted to always be completely honest with Brandy.

“I’m starting to wonder why I came,” he admitted. He’d acted in haste, not taking a moment to question if he was doing the right thing. Perhaps he’d done so to prevent himself from backing out. But now he was there, almost at San Migeno, and he was afraid of what he might find there.

“You’re there for your friend,” Brandy told him, her voice gentle but strong in its conviction. Aiden nodded. She was right.

“Yeah,” Aiden stood up and glanced out of the window where his rental car was parked just a few feet away, ready and waiting.

Justin’s death deserved answers. Aiden knew that if their roles had been reversed that Justin would have stopped at nothing to learn what had happened to Aiden. Even in death, Aiden owed Justin his allegiance. They had been best friends, a bond which would endure to the end of both of their days.

“Just be careful,” Brandy requested. “And come home soon. I miss you.”

Her words caused Aiden’s focus to stumble from his current investigation.

“Come home?” he repeated, his lips curving.

“Yes, come home,” Brandy repeated.

“So, you feel like Avalon is home?”

He heard Brandy give a light laugh from all the miles away where she stood clutching the receiver in the hallway.

“I guess it does feel like home now,” she admitted brightly.

“I’m glad.” Aiden was locking his motel door behind him, tucking the key into his pocket and moving towards his car. In the unflatteringly bright sunlight he could see just how filthy his car was; covered in few layers of dust and grime. It was difficult to discern what color the vehicle actually was.

“Aiden, I love you.”

Aiden mentally grabbed the words like they were a life preserver in a torrid sea. He was still holding them tightly as he slid in behind the steering wheel and placed the key in the ignition.

“I love you too,” he replied affectionately. They said their goodbyes and Aiden zipped his cell phone into his pocket. He looked through the windscreen at the dusty road ahead which lead out to San Migeno. He couldn’t shake his feelings of apprehension but he knew he had to go down that road.

Pausing for only a second to take a deep breath, Aiden gunned the engine which spluttered before starting and then pulled away from the motel and headed west towards the small Mexican town of San Migeno.

*

“What do you mean he’s out of town?” Buck Fern briefly removed his stetson to run a hand through his thinning grey hair.

“He’s out of town,” Betty informed him stiffly. “On business.”

“What sort of business?” Buck demanded tersely.

“Any business of his is no business of yours,” Betty told him coldly. Then she had the audacity to look back at her computer screen and commence typing.

“He’s shacking up with that Brandy White, did you know that?”

“I did know.” Betty continued typing, not making eye contact with the disgruntled old sherriff.

“Just tell me where he is,” Buck sighed. “I need to talk with him.”

“About what? His choice of bedfellows?” Now Betty’s fingers did cease typing and she looked up to hold Buck in a steely gaze.

“You know how Avalon works,” he said as his flint eyes narrowed and his lips curled downwards.

“People around here are uneasy now she’s back. They think she ran his wife and daughter out of town. Is that what happened?”

“I’m not privy to such information,” Betty shrugged mildly.

“Maybe he’s back in Chicago, visiting the Mrs and having his cake and eating it too,” Buck suggested darkly, his lips lifting into a cruel smirk.

“He’s not in Chicago,” Betty assured him.

“Then where is he?”

“Mexico.” Betty blurted her response and then realized her error. Her cheeks burned with shame and she looked back at her computer screen and tried to appear busy.

“What’s a lawyer doing in Mexico?” Buck leaned closer, eager to press Betty further. She was already cracking, he just had to completely remove her outer shell and get to all the information she was protecting inside.

“Look, Buck—”

“Sheriff.” Buck coldly corrected her.

“Sheriff.” Betty sighed as her eyebrows straightened into an annoyed line. “Like I originally told you, Aiden is away on business. Truly, that is all I know.”

“What business is there to be done in Mexico?” Buck asked rhetorically as he straightened and prepared to leave, satisfied that he’d learned enough from Betty. “Nothing legal,” he added half to himself as he pulled open the door. The gentle chime of the bell above it made Betty quiver with relief.

Buck stepped out into the sunlight and approached his patrol car, which was parked where Aiden’s vehicle normally was. But on his drive by that morning Buck had noticed that the spot was suspiciously empty.

Still mulling over what he’d learned, Buck started his car and pulled out into the road.

Mexico.

He bounced the location around in his mind numerous times, letting it collect all the memories and associations that it could. As he headed back to the sherriff station, he concluded that no good ever came out of Mexico. Buck couldn’t stop theorizing on what possible reason Aiden Connelly could have to be paying the country an impromptu visit.

*

Aiden took one last look at the crumpled piece of paper he’d been keeping in his pocket before entering San Migeno’s small police station.

Everything within San Migeno seemed tired and run down. Even the blue sign above the police station had faded to the point where it was now a dull shade of grey. A few people idled in the nearby streets, taking long drags on cigarettes and squinting against the burning sun as they passively observed the car which pulled up in the center of town.

Aiden offered a few of them a polite smile in greeting, but they returned the gesture with indifference. Pushing his sunglasses up onto his forehead, Aiden entered the police station. He had hoped that once inside the air would be pleasantly chilled but instead the baking heat from outside had penetrated the station’s red brick walls and the ceiling fan which droned above him could do little to combat it.

It had barely been five minutes since Aiden had left his car and he could already feel his T-shirt starting to stick to his back. Inside the police station there was an unmanned desk and a few chairs in what constituted a waiting area. Aiden decided against sitting down as the chairs appeared dilapidated; some missing legs, others with stuffing bulging out of their threadbare upholstery.

A brightly lit vending machine hummed against a far wall and Aiden eyed it longingly. He’d happily forsake the few dollars required just to hold a cool can of soda against his searing cheeks. Instead he pulled himself up to the main desk and pressed down on a rusted bell which he assumed was for visitors.

Almost ten minutes dragged by before someone finally appeared through a door behind the desk. He was a uniformed policeman with skin like leather and deep-set lines woven across his face like the markings of some pirate treasure map.

The man eyed Aiden with mild irritation.

“Hi,” Aiden began uneasily, wishing he had a stronger grasp on the Spanish language. “Hola,” Aiden corrected himself with a nervous smile. The policeman’s face remained as hard as the weathered skin which covered it.

“I’m looking for Javier Santo. I believe he works here.” Aiden emphasized the name as best he could, aware that his other words might not be understood. The policeman sneered as if a bad odor had infiltrated his senses, then he glanced back to the door through which he’d just come.

“Santo!” he roared the name with frightening intensity. Moments later, the door opened and a younger policeman came out. He had short black hair cropped in a trendy style and a deliberate shadow of stubble across his cheeks.

The older policeman pointed at Aiden and then disappeared back through the door.

“Javier Santo?” Aiden asked warily.

“Si,” Javier nodded, his lips twisting as he chewed on gum.

“Hi, um…” Aiden extended his hand across the desk to a bemused Javier. “My name is Aiden Connelly. I’m from America. I was hoping I could talk to you about a friend of mine who was connected to San Migeno.”

Javier eyed Aiden’s hand suspiciously and then reluctantly shook it. His grip was firm and his hand was coarse compared to Aiden’s soft, coddled skin.

“My friend died ten years ago,” Aiden added. Javier’s expression darkened and he snatched his hand back.

“We should not talk here,” Javier kept his voice low, shooting a fearful glance back at the closed door behind him.

“Okay,” Aiden nodded. “Where would you like to go?”

“There is a café round the corner,” Javier told him sharply. “Meet me there in ten minutes.”

*

Aiden sat waiting in the sunshine for Javier. He ordered himself a glass of Coke without ice and sat nursing it. Ten minutes turned into twenty and he was starting to fear that the policeman wouldn’t show. Aiden was considering just going back to his motel when something blocked out the sun, bathing him in pleasant shadow.

Looking up, Aiden saw the uniformed figure of Javier Santo looming over him. He stood for a moment and then sat down across from Aiden. He ordered an iced tea from a nearby waitress and then pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his trouser pocket and proceeded to light one.

“So why are you in San Migeno?” Javier asked, the newly lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

“I told you, to find out what happened to a friend of mine.”

“What would I know about something that happened ten years ago?” Javier asked, gesturing wildly with his hands and leaning back in his chair. He was wearing aviator sunglasses which concealed his eyes from Aiden. It was difficult to hazard how old he was but Aiden guessed he was in his mid to late thirties. He was considerably younger than the policeman Aiden had first encountered but he seemed wearied by the world. He held his head high when he walked but his shoulders remained slumped.

“A contact of mine pointed me in your direction,” Aiden explained, cleaning closer to prevent anyone listening in on their conversation. “See, my friend who died, he was connected to the Caulerone brothers and my contact said you’d been investigating them.”

“Ha!” Javier laughed and pulled his cigarette from his mouth.

“What’s so funny?”

With his free hand Javier pushed his sunglasses up onto his head, revealing his dark-brown eyes which were framed by deep, dark circles. But it was the harsh scar which ran clean across his left eye which caught Aiden’s attention. He had not noticed it back at the station but now in the sunlight it was painfully obvious and impossible to ignore.

“No one investigates the Caulerone brothers,” Javier insisted, putting his cigarette back between his lips and taking a swift drag.

“If you value your life, Aiden, wasn’t it? I suggest you don’t say their name again in this town.”

Aiden didn’t understand. Guy had been quite clear during their phone call. Officer Javier Santo, based in San Migeno, was investigating the Caulerone brothers and the cartel they were running out of the town. Guy basically listed Javier as an FBI informant.

“Please,” Aiden pleaded. “I’m not looking to land the brothers in trouble. I just want to know what happened to my friend, why they killed him.”

Javier put a hand up to his left eye and rubbed it wearily.

“Pick a reason.” Javier shrugged nonchalantly. “Perhaps they didn’t like how he dressed, or maybe he gave one of them a funny look once. The brothers, how you say in American? They kill without conviction.”

Aiden was beginning to despair. He’d come all this way to learn that Justin possibly died because the Caulerone brothers didn’t approve of his leather jacket?

“I just…” Aiden gripped his glass of soda in his hands, needing something to hold on to. “All I need to know is if he was working for them. If he ever came to this town.”

“Sounds like you want to know a lot,” Javier raised his eyebrows at him.

“I owe it to him to find answers,” Aiden admitted, trying not to sound defeated.

“Ten years is a long time to wait for answers.”

“I only recently learned the truth about what happened to him.” Aiden felt a fresh wave of guilt break across his back as he thought of all the years he’d lived under the illusion that Justin had died in an accident.

“In America, the truth will set you free,” Javier nodded. “Here, the truth will get you killed.”

“So there’s nothing you can tell me?” Aiden asked desperately.

“Whoever this contact of yours is…” Javier once more plucked his cigarette from his lips and used it to point across the table at Aiden. “They are wrong. I don’t rat on the brothers, no one does.”

“But you did once,” Aiden glanced briefly at the deep scar across Javier’s eye. It was then that he noticed how the policeman’s left eye had remained motionless throughout their conversation. Aiden had tried not to stare at the scar out of politeness but now he realized with a chill that whatever had happened had left Javier with more than an unsightly scar; it had robbed him of one of his eyes.

Javier blinked and lowered his sunglasses, his mouth set in a tight line.

“My friend was just a young man when he was killed,” Aiden continued. “He was the kindest, most outgoing person I knew.”

“Yeah, well he wasn’t the smartest,” Javier stated, taking the last of his cigarette and stubbing it out in a nearby ash tray.

“Smart guys don’t get involved with the brothers. You look like a smart guy. You want my advice, turn around and go back to America and don’t look back, you got it?”

Javier tossed down a few dollars and began to leave the café. Hurriedly, Aiden dropped a few dollars from his own wallet and followed him.

“Javier, please—” He reached out and touched the policeman’s shoulder. He could feel the tension building up within Javier as he spun around and exhaled sharply in annoyance.

“You can’t bring your friend back,” Javier confirmed grimly. “Coming here, all you can hope to do is bring about your own death.”

“Can you seriously not tell me anything?” In his mind Aiden was frantically replaying his conversation with Guy Chambers. Had he misunderstood something? He’d thought Guy was being perfectly clear when he said he had a lead which Aiden should follow. A lead which had taken Aiden to Mexico but now he felt like he was standing at a dead end.

“Things don’t work here like they do for you back home,” Javier sighed. “You think I run things because I wear this badge?”