Читать книгу Fourth To Run - Carys Jones - Страница 9
ОглавлениеThe Chances You Take
The only sounds in the office were the gentle whirring of the air conditioning system and the distant tapping of Betty’s fingers maneuvering across her keyboard. In the relative silence Aiden stared at his computer screen. His inbox was unusually empty. It seemed that Clyde White had swiftly managed to spread the news of Brandy’s return to Avalon and now the town were keeping their distance from Aiden.
Groaning, he refreshed the page. He had enough open cases to keep him busy; some work updating wills and settling property disputes. But he’d feared that the work would suddenly dry up. It was as if overnight Avalon suddenly ceased to have legal issues.
To add to Aiden’s tension, Betty had been uncharacteristically late that morning. When he pulled up outside the office and stepped out into the bright morning sun he’d actually needed to do a double-take of the vacant entrance. Betty was nowhere to be seen. Aiden opened up, bought the usual breakfast order from across the street and then hid in the comfort of his own office. He was about to call Betty to check she was alright when he heard the soft chime of the main door announcing her entrance.
That had been forty minutes ago. Aiden had yet to venture in to the office and face Betty. He wasn’t sure he could handle the look of disappointment she’d doubtlessly be wearing when he addressed her.
But his plan to remain in his office was running out of fuel. With no incoming emails to respond to, he’d be forced to head out and attend to tasks around town. He had a pile of papers that needed dropping off at the town hall along with a couple of documents that required additional signatures.
“Come on,” Aiden refreshed his inbox again, willing someone, anyone to contact him. He was about to accept defeat and go out to see Betty when his cell phone began to whir upon the desk, spinning itself in circles.
Aiden grabbed the device with a sense of relief but bristled when he noticed that the incoming call was from a blocked number.
“Aiden Connelly speaking,” he greeted the unknown caller with slight trepidation in his voice. What if it was a crank call from a disgruntled resident? Was he now going to be subjected to harassment by those still loyal to Brandon who continued to wrongly blame Brandy for his death?
“Aiden, hey, it’s Guy.”
Aiden froze in surprise.
“Guy Chambers,” Guy declared confidently. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already?” His tone was jovial, friendly even.
Aiden shook himself out of his startled stupor and cleared his throat.
“No, course not,” he replied politely. “I just didn’t expect to hear from you again. How are things?”
“Things are good!” And from the sound of his voice they truly were. Aiden could almost feel the heat radiating from the smile Guy was wearing coming down the line and bursting out into the office.
“I’m glad.” Aiden repositioned himself in his chair so that he was sitting straighter.
“Listen, Connelly, I’m going to get straight to it.” Typical Guy, not wanting to waste time on small talk.
“Okay…” Aiden nodded, feeling his shoulders tighten in apprehension. What exactly were they getting to? Why had Guy even called him?
“Last time we spoke, you asked me for more information on your friend Justin’s case.”
“Which you said you couldn’t give,” Aiden replied bluntly.
“Right.” On the other end of the line Guy cleared his throat. Was he nervous? “But say something fell in to my lap and I wanted to throw you a bone?”
“I’m not a dog.” Aiden ran a hand through his hair and glanced briefly at his inbox. Still no emails.
“Jeeze, Connelly, I’m trying to do you a solid here,” Guy’s voice boomed in to his ear. “Quit always being so tightly wound! I have a name and a location, you want it?”
“Why would you give me this?” Aiden wondered suspiciously. “Previously you told me you’d already said too much. Now you want to give me names? What’s changed?”
“The case has been tabled,” Guy said quickly, the words almost blended into one another.
“It has? But it had been open for ten years, why table it now?”
“The Bureau doesn’t have the manpower to keep chasing ghosts,” Guy said flippantly. “But I figured what is old news to us might be useful to you.”
“And you won’t lose your job by telling me this?”
“No!” Guy snapped a little too harshly. Aiden pulled a pen and paper towards him. In his mind he could still see Justin’s disfigured face from his nightmare staring at him, pleading with him. Whatever information Guy had, Aiden would willingly take it.
“So what do you know?” Aiden picked up the pen, poised to write with it.
“Your friend Justin was killed by a cartel run by the Caulerone Brothers. They operate out of San Migeno in Mexcio. Real nasty pair. But we’ve been liaising with a guy down there, a local cop keeping tabs on them for us. His name is Javier Santo. He should be able to at least tell you why they killed your friend. Because that’s what you wanted, right? Answers?”
Aiden was frantically scribbling all the information down.
“Um, yeah,” he agreed. “I wanted some answers.”
“Good, well that should help.”
“Thanks.” Aiden felt bewildered by the entire conversation. He looked down at the piece of paper which could lead him to Justin’s killer. Aiden ripped the note from its pad and held it between his fingers. It felt like holding a loaded gun; an object of frightening power – he just had to decide what he was going to do with it.
“So now you owe me one,” Guy declared smugly.
“Owe you one?” Aiden almost laughed at the absurdity of the notion. “What could you ever want from me, Guy? You work for the FBI, you’re much better connected than I could ever dream of being.”
“Hey, you never know,” Guy replied. Then his tone abruptly hardened. “Look, I’ve got to go. Think about what I said. I know you, Connelly. You’re the kind of guy who always does the right thing. Don’t go changing.”
The call ended and Aiden focused his attention on the piece of paper in his hand. He felt dizzy imagining Justin being connected with the Caulerone brothers, whoever they were. Had he gone down to San Migeno? If he had, he’d never mentioned it to his friends. After a few more seconds’ deliberation, Aiden folded the paper in half, shoved it into his pocket and then refreshed his inbox yet again.
*
Brandy had always liked Monday mornings. The prospect of starting a fresh new week excited her, or at least it had in Chicago. When she woke up there she would wonder where her week would take her. There was so much to see and do within the city that she wondered if she’d ever find the time to be able to take it all in. But it was very different in Avalon.
The kettle boiled and Brandy idly made herself a hot chocolate despite the searing heat outside. She needed the comfort of its sweet warmth. The visit to Home Depot over the weekend had rattled her, even though she kept insisting to Aiden that she was fine. Cupping her mug with both hands, Brandy walked slowly through to the living room. Even with the new drapes and cushions, the room still didn’t feel like home. She still felt like a stranger there.
The sharp shrill of the house phone ringing in the hallway made Brandy physically jump. For a moment she just listened to the sound as it methodically blared out. She wondered who could be calling and for a second she feared it was Aiden’s estranged wife, Isla. With trembling hands Brandy placed her drink down and walked over to the phone. She watched it ring for a few more seconds and then took a deep breath and lifted the receiver.
“Hello?” She willed herself to sound confident instead of meek and lost. She prayed that Isla Connelly wasn’t on the other end of the line; she didn’t have the strength for yet another confrontation.
“Brandy, is that you?” Carol Cotton demanded.
“Aunt Carol!” Brandy exhaled with relief and slumped against a nearby wall.
“You told me you’d call to check in and I’ve not heard from you in weeks! I started to get worried!” Carol sounded more angry than worried. Brandy could imagine her standing boldly in Chez Vous, the phone nudged up to her ear but hidden beneath her overly coiffed hair as she drummed her long false nails angrily against the sleek reception counter.
“I’m sorry, time sort of ran away from me.”
“Uh-huh.” Carol’s flat tone told Brandy how unimpressed she was with the excuse she had given.
“You’re too busy lying under that man instead of looking out for yourself!”
“Aunt Carol!” Brandy felt her cheeks begin to burn like fire.
“Why would you ever go back there?” Carol lamented. “To that awful town where you are treated like a pariah? You should be here, in the city.”
Brandy squeezed her eyes shut and tried to push her feeling of guilt down towards her toes.
“I’m so worried about you being there,” Carol continued. “I had Rhonda do a Tarot reading for you.”
“Aunt Carol—” Brandy wanted to object, but the old woman briskly interrupted her.
“And do you know what came up?” Carol demanded. Brandy shrugged as she leaned against the wall. She had no idea what had come up in the reading. She didn’t trust the cards. Her mother had believed in them but only when they served her purpose. Carol’s loyalty to the cards was a remnant of her old life down south that she’d been unable to shake despite her years of city living.
“The death card,” Carol uttered fearfully. Despite her lack of enthusiasm, Brandy felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
“She pulled the death card,” Carol repeated. “You need to leave that place ‒ it’s not safe for you! You need to come back to Chicago, you can have your old apartment, you’ve still got a job here at Chez Vous waiting for you.”
“Aunt Carol.” Brandy began to nervously play with a loose strand of her long blonde hair. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me. Truly I do. But Aiden is my destiny.”
“No one woman is meant to be with any one man,” Carol’s voice was stern. “Disney sold you a fairy tale long ago that is nothing but lies. Now, you listen to me and you listen good, Brandy Cotton! You are better than this! Going back to the town that vilified you to be some married man’s mistress?”
Tears gathered in Brandy’s eyes and began to silently tumble down her cheeks.
“Have your fun, play out your little fantasy of being his woman in his little house but that won’t be enough for you and you know it. I’ll be here for you when you come crawling back. You are always welcome here, Brandy. Because that’s what family do, we love each other through the good times and the bad.”
Carol didn’t wait to hear her niece’s response. She ended the call, filling Brandy’s ears with the flat drone of the dialing tone. Still clutching the receiver, Brandy’s knees buckled and she slid down to the floor. Her stream of tears had become a waterfall. She dropped the phone with a clatter and buried her head in her hands.
It seemed it wasn’t just the residents of Avalon who thought she was wrong to be with Aiden. As Brandy sobbed, she pulled her knees up to her chest, condensing herself into a ball. She couldn’t stop wondering when love had stopped being enough? She was in love with Aiden, didn’t that justify them being together?
*
Aiden strained to listen for the distant tapping coming from Betty’s computer, but it had seemingly silenced. Deciding that this was his chance to sneak away from the office without encountering the old woman, he stood up quickly, sending his leather chair skittering across the polished wooden floor.
The paper with the details of the Mexican cartel burned in his pocket. He needed to get out and clear his head. Scooping up a waiting pile of papers, he decided he could drop them off at the town hall. The drive over would provide him some time to deliberate further on what to do with the lead Guy Chambers had suddenly given him.
Aiden’s mind was preoccupied by the call with Guy as he stepped out from his office into the main waiting area. He was about to walk straight towards the main door which led out onto the street when someone politely coughed behind him. Startled Aiden spun around and felt his heart sink when he saw Betty peering up expectantly at him from behind her desk, her glasses resting on the base of her nose.
“Betty, hey!” Aiden could feel the flames of shame starting to devour his cheeks.
“Aiden.” Betty nodded courteously at him. She was calling him by his first name, that had to be a good sign.
“I’m sorry for my tardiness this morning,” Betty continued, clasping her hands together before her on the desk in a neat ball. “My refrigerator started leaking in the night. I was forced to clean up everywhere before I could depart the house. I’m terribly sorry, it won’t happen again.”
“That’s fine, Betty, it’s not a problem, really.” Aiden took another step towards the main door.
“I had hoped to discuss it with you when I came in,” Betty added. “But you’d locked yourself away in your office and I got the distinct impression that you didn’t wish to be disturbed.”
Aiden’s cheeks burned more intensely as he slowly turned back around to face her, clutching the paperwork he was holding to his chest like a shield.
“I hope you’re not avoiding me.” Betty’s eyes sparkled with knowing intensity. She held Aiden tightly in her gaze, not caring how much he squirmed; she wouldn’t let him go.
“What, no? Of course not,” Aiden fumbled, unravelling beneath the interrogation. He felt like he was back at school, a naughty boy caught playing up in class and forced to answer to his strict headmistress.
“Because I was concerned that perhaps you’d locked yourself away to avoid facing me.” Betty continued to stare squarely at him.
“Betty…”
“Aiden, I know.” Betty sighed and her gaze softened. Aiden’s own shoulders automatically drooped in relief. “Clyde White has been the busiest of bees, buzzing all round town since your run in with him over the weekend.”
Aiden looked blankly at Betty, who remained poised and expectant. He didn’t know what to say. Was she mad at him? Did she want to cease working for him?
“I feel like I should explain,” Aiden lowered the paperwork, his voice soft.
“Nonsense!” Betty held up the palm of her hand towards Aiden, the taut blue veins visible beneath her thin skin.
“No explanation necessary. What you do in your own time is your business, Aiden. I just want to make it perfectly clear that it is not my place to judge you. I’m just here to work and honor Edmond’s legacy. It is imperative that we maintain an air of professionalism here.”
“But I thought you hated Brandy as much as the rest of Avalon does?” Aiden asked, bewildered by Betty’s logical response.
“Hate is such a strong word,” Betty raised her eyebrows at him. “And Miss White, Cotton, whatever she calls herself these days is actually an innocent woman. Many people here seem to forget that, but I don’t.”
“I appreciate your candor on the matter,” Aiden told her honestly.
“You’re most welcome.” Betty nodded stiffly. A slight smile began to pull on her lips as a kind glow softened her gaze.
“You might want to recall this conversation if you ever hear about the bedfellows I keep,” she said cheekily.
Aiden laughed; a sharp, joyous sound which hadn’t been heard within the offices of Copes and May for quite some time. Betty also began laughing, the mirth was contagious.
“Yes, Betty.” Aiden managed to find his voice against the laughter still bubbling within him. “I shall remember this conversation if and when I hear about your own…arrangements.”
This made Betty laugh all the more heartily. She was still laughing as Aiden stepped out to the gentle chime of the door in to the hot morning sun.
*
Brandy looked at the auction, her finger poised over the button she needed to press in order to confirm her bid. During her time working in the city she’d amassed some modest savings. She was going to exhaust those now on one single purchase.
The small white piano looked impossibly beautiful even in a one-dimensional image on the computer. Brandy gazed at it adoringly, imaging how much she’d enjoy playing on it, having a piano of her very own. Aiden’s lounge was large enough to accommodate it. She could place it on the far wall, near the staircase, that way if she tilted her head to the right when playing she could look through the patio doors and admire the garden outside.
Her finger continued to hover with intent. She reminded herself that Aiden had told her to purchase a piano if it would make her happy. It would certainly help her feel more at home with him. Her previous conversation with her Aunt Carol still burned in her mind. Brandy was now more determined than ever to make things work in Avalon, to prove to the world that she truly was destined to be with Aiden.
“Just buy it,” Brandy urged herself. But still she was unable to commit to the purchase. She’d be spending a lot of money. Over a thousand dollars. She recalled all too easily a time was money was extremely scarce. Back when she lived with her mother in the trailer park, they barely had two dimes to rub together. What would her mother think if she could see her now purchasing her very own piano?
Thinking of her mother was enough to spur Brandy in to action. She pressed down hard on the button and bought the piano just as the online auction was about to close. Trembling with excitement and satisfaction, she sat back and lifted her gaze to the position on the wall against which she planned to place her new piano.
A warm smile brightened her face. The joy over the purchase was enough to banish the negative memories of her time with her mother back to the shadows of her mind.
*
Aiden’s brief drive did little to ease the conflict he was feeling over Guy Chambers’ call. He pulled up outside the offices of Copes and May, minus the papers he’d successfully dropped off at the town hall. Through the glass front he could see Betty busily typing away at her computer, staring distrustfully at the screen from behind her tortoiseshell glasses.
Aiden appreciated her more than ever. She’d showed him kindness about Brandy when he’d feared she’d only have hostility. Betty had surprised him. Glancing towards the other side of the street Aiden made a snap decision to grab Betty something sweet as a way of thanking her for her kind attitude.
It was a decision he swiftly regretted. As soon as he walked into the café, the gentle murmur of chatter ceased and the whole place was engulfed by a stony silence. Aiden coughed awkwardly as he approached the counter and placed his order. The assistant who usually smiled a little flirtatiously at him each morning shot him a quick, hateful glance before telling him how much money he owed. Sighing, Aiden slid out his wallet and handed over a five-dollar bill and waited on his change. He could feel numerous pairs of eyes boring in to his back, watching his every move. He just wanted to get out of there as fast as he could. With his Danish in a paper bag, he darted out of the store and didn’t look back. He was about to cross over the street to his office when someone tapped him on the shoulder. Surprised, Aiden spun around.
Deena Fern was standing on the street, her blonde hair snaking down one shoulder in a trendy plait, her designer sunglasses lifted up onto her head so that she could look him directly in the eye.
“Deena!” Aiden said in surprise. He had not seen Deena since he’d helped her during the paternity suit her late husband tried to take out against her. It had become yet another fly in the ointment of Aiden’s reputation in Avalon since he was hired by the husband, Samuel Fern, who had recently passed.
“How are you holding up?” he asked sincerely, remembering how distraught local sherriff and long-time adversary Buck Fern had been over the death of his brother Samuel.
“I’m doing okay.” Deena shrugged, her tanned shoulders partly exposed in the white tank top she was wearing. “I actually popped out to check in on you.”
“On me?” Aiden took a physical step back in surprise.
“Yes, you!” Deena confirmed with a shy smile. “You’re the talk of the town, you know. I appreciate it’s a regular thing for you, but still.”
She regarded him kindly. Deena knew all too well how cruel and judgmental the people of Avalon could be and Aiden truly appreciated her concern.
“I’ll survive.”
“He’s a real asshole that Clyde White,” Deena seethed, her friendly expression souring as she said his name.
“He got on your good side too, did he?” Aiden joked.
“When Samuel died, do you know who was the first person on my doorstep?” Deena’s eyes began to burn with hatred.
“That’s Clyde White,” Aiden shook his head dismally. “He’s Mr Concerned when it comes to anything Avalon related.”
“He wasn’t Mr Concerned that day,” Deena announced sharply. She began rubbing her arms as if feeling a sudden chill despite the warmth of the day.
“He came round to offer me more than a shoulder to cry on,” Deena continued, lowering her voice slightly and casting nervous glances around the street on which they were currently alone.
“He did?” Even though Aiden sounded surprised, he knew he wasn’t. Clyde White had never struck him as someone capable of being either honorable or decent. It made sense that he would move in on a friend’s recently widowed wife if he thought it suited his own purpose.
“He’s no saint!” Deena lifted one hand to caress her temple. “I wanted you to know that. He’s running your name through the mud when you’ve not done anything wrong. But him…he acts like he’s untouchable, like he’s a God around here. Well, he’s not. I told him to get the hell off my property.”
“And did he go?”
“He went.” Deena nodded slowly. “But not before telling me that I’d change my mind. He had this cruel grin on his face, like he knew something I didn’t.”
“He likes to mess with people,” Aiden sympathized.
“Well I didn’t appreciate it, certainly not in my time of mourning. I don’t care what shit he says about you, I know you’re a decent guy. And I want you to know that. I want you to know that I appreciate you being here in Avalon.”
“Thanks.” Aiden smiled as someone came out of the café behind them, signaling the end of their conversation.
“It’s nice to know someone does,” he called as he headed across the street, back over to his office.
*
A light curtain of rain fell silently upon the football field making Aiden’s skin glisten beneath the harsh stadium lights. Shivering slightly in his damp clothes, he trudged forward, his steps slick against the wet grass.
The stadium seemed completely deserted. Aiden scanned the stands where only shadows seemed to occupy the seats. He tightened his jacket around himself and continued to walk across the field. He was nearing the thirty-yard line when his entire body tensed with the unpleasant realization that he was being watched. Pausing, Aiden lifted his head against the rain to look back at the stands.
It took him less than a second to locate the solitary figure sat in the center, their features shrouded beneath a dark hood. Had they been there before? Aiden tried to remember but his mind felt foggy and his thoughts sluggish. For reasons beyond his comprehension, he felt drawn to the lone spectator. He changed his direction and began walking swiftly towards the stands. The figure didn’t move or seem to register Aiden approaching, they remained perfectly still.
As Aiden moved closer, he realized that the figure was wearing a battered leather jacket over their hooded jumper. A jacket which looked all too familiar.
“Hey!” Aiden forced the greeting out from the back of his throat, making his voice boom as much as possible. The figure didn’t look up.
“Hey!” Aiden quickened his pace and reached the base of the stands and began to swiftly climb the steps, heading for the row on which the figure sat. Aiden was growing in certainty that they were wearing Justin’s beloved leather jacket. But how was that even possible? He could now see the patch which covered the left elbow that had been lovingly stitched on by Justin’s mother when he made a tear in the jacket after a particularly heated bar fight.
Justin had told his mother that he’d torn the leather when he fell from his motorbike but it was a lie. Justin never fell from the bike, he had an almost symbiotic relationship with the vehicle. They moved as one, seamless and precise. But Justin’s mother would have been distraught over the revelation of a bar fight, better to the blame the bike; the inanimate object she couldn’t fear.
Aiden snorted at the irony of it. All along it was the bike Justin’s mother should have feared as it was the bike which ended her son’s life. The air in the stadium had suddenly plummeted and Aiden’s breath gathered in a wispy cloud before his face. He was now standing on the end of the stranger’s row. Their gaze remained fixed upon the empty football field.
“Hey!” Aiden called out but they did not look up. There was no way they couldn’t hear him when he was standing so close. It took Aiden less than three long strides to reach the hooded figure. Aiden’s teeth had started to chatter loudly in his head from the growing cold.
“Where did you get that jacket?” Aiden asked as he reached out and touched the figure’s shoulder, the leather damp beneath his fingertips. As Aiden connected with the figure, their head suddenly snapped back, limp like a rag doll. Recoiling in horror, Aiden looked down at the face which was now staring up at the sky. A terrified cry was born deep in his gut but it remained trapped down there as Aiden froze, suddenly unable to move or even look away.
The figure’s face was nothing more than a skull, the hollowed eyes gathered rain water as they now gazed up at the heavens. Aiden’s mouth hung open and his shoulders trembled as he looked at the perfect white of the bone, the rows of teeth; the preserved shell of the man it had once been.
Then Aiden’s cry managed to burst out; breaking through the fear and tumbling against the harrowing figure.
*
“Aiden!” Brandy was staring down at him, silhouetted against the bedside lamp shining behind her.
“Are you okay? Were you dreaming about your friend again?”
With a groan, Aiden hoisted himself up and ran his hands through his hair.
“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “I was dreaming about him again. I was led to believe that he’d died in a motorcycle accident. But recently I discovered that his death wasn’t an accident, that he’d actually been murdered.”
“Oh God!” Brandy’s eyes widened and she nudged closer to Aiden. “Murdered by who?”
“I don’t know, though I’ve got my suspicions.” Aiden’s shoulders slumped. “And now I see him when I close my eyes. Like I can feel him suffering from beyond the grave, as stupid as that sounds. No one was made to pay for his death. The people who killed him, they got away with it.”
“You feel like they need to be brought to justice.”
“Yes!” Aiden felt his body begin to burn with intention. That was exactly what he wanted. He thought of the phone call with Guy Chambers, of the small slip of paper with a Mexican town written upon it. The culprit for Justin’s death was within reach, Aiden was certain of it.
“I might have a way to bring them to justice,” Aiden lifted an arm and looped it around Brandy’s shoulders. She pressed her head against his bare chest and Aiden felt a pleasant sense of contentment surge through him. Brandy seemed to fit perfectly against him, like they were made for one another. His fingertips spun circles on the soft skin of her exposed shoulder as they talked.
“I know a guy in the FBI who has pointed me in the direction of a potential contact. But it means going to Mexico for a few days.”
“Want me to come with you?” Brandy offered.
“No,” Aiden tilted his head so that he could plant a tender kiss upon her forehead. “I want you to stay here so that when your new piano arrives you can set it up right away.”
“You don’t mind that I ordered it?”
“Not at all.” Aiden smiled. “I’m glad you did. Having it here will make this house feel more like it’s your home too, which it is.”
“I am excited for it to arrive,” Brandy admitted. Then her tone lost some of its lightness.
“Do you think going to Mexico will make the nightmares stop?”
Aiden shrugged.
“I don’t know.” He shook his head sadly, the image of the hooded skull still haunting his thoughts.
“I guess it’s worth a shot though, right?” Brandy noted hopefully.
“Yeah,” Aiden agreed. “It’s worth a shot.”
*
“Mexico!” Betty echoed the location and adjusted her glasses so that they weren’t on the end of her nose.
Aiden placed down her morning tea and croissant and gave her an apologetic smile.
“Well, I suppose it’s up to you as and when you take your vacation.” Betty did a poor job of masking her indignation. Aiden understood her misgivings; he’d been at the helm of Copes and May for just under a month, it certainly wasn’t the right time to be going off on vacation.
“It’s not a holiday,” he explained, standing beside Betty’s desk clutching his own morning cup of coffee.
“I’m actually going down there to follow a lead on something.”
“In Mexico?” Betty’s scrunched her features up as she spoke, making her face seem even more lined than usual.
“I know it’s very last minute but I’ll only be gone a few days.”
“Well, I can keep an eye on the office while you’re gone.”
“Why don’t you take a few days off?” Aiden suggested brightly. Betty instantly shook her head as her eyes began to sparkle.
“No thank you,” she replied courteously. Aiden wondered why she seemed so averse to having a few days’ vacation. Then he realized and felt his cheeks start to burn slightly with embarrassment. The reason Edmond had always looked after Betty as loyally as he had was because he understood that Copes and May was all she had. Betty didn’t have a family waiting for her back home at the end of the day. She enjoyed coming to work; savored the opportunity to chat with people and get out of her modest house.
“Actually, I probably will need you here.” Aiden withdrew his previous offer and he saw Betty straighten in her chair like a wilting flower which had just been watered. She fed on her own importance within the office and Aiden knew he owed it to her to nourish that.
“You’ll need to field phone calls for me, stay on top of incoming emails.” Not that there were many of those to deal with. Clyde White had done a sterling job of turning the residents of Avalon against Aiden yet again. At some point he’d have to win back their collective trust but, right now, he had much older ghosts that needed to be laid to rest.
“I’m more than happy to come in during your absence,” Betty declared.
“Good.” Aiden nodded at her and began drifting towards his own office. He had flights to book and needed to arrange a hire car once he landed in Mexico.
“If someone asks where you are, what do I say?” Betty turned to look back at him.
Aiden paused with his free hand clutching the door handle to his office. What did he want Betty to say? He wasn’t sure he should be openly advertising his impromptu visit to Mexico. Besides, Guy had privately given him the information, Aiden risked landing them both in trouble if word got out about his true intentions down there.
“Just say I’m away on business,” Aiden shrugged.
“Will do.”
*
Buck Fern slowed his patrol car as he passed down the street outside the offices of Copes and May. His golden sherriff’s badge winked in the light from where it was proudly attached to his shirt on his chest.
He glanced in and saw loyal old Betty typing away at her desk. News of Aiden’s encounter with Clyde White in Home Depot had filtered back to him. Despite the sunshine burning overhead and the shimmering blue sky, Buck knew that a storm was heading towards Avalon. Aiden had foolishly brought back the girl who had ignited a fire of hate within the town.
Buck pressed on the gas and moved on past the offices, further down the street. He squinted against the sunlight beneath his stetson and turned up the stereo in an attempt to drown out his own thoughts. His whole body struggled against the weight of protecting his beloved town. Too many people were gone; their memories plaguing his every step. Buck couldn’t escape the ghosts of Avalon but he’d honor their memory; he’d ensure that their beloved town could weather this encroaching storm.
