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Turning the card over, Aiden deliberated on what to do. The emptiness of the office seeped into him, reminding him of his promise, of his new responsibilities within Avalon. Finally he reached a decision. He straightened in his chair and picked up his cell phone, not daring to use the office’s main line. He dialled the number on the business card and waited tensely for his former college friend to pick up.
*
“Chambers,” he answered after the third ring.
“Guy, hi, it’s um, Aiden. Connelly.” Aiden was already regretting his decision to call. He wasn’t even sure what to say.
“Connelly, hi,” Guy’s greeting was cold and relatively formal. “What can I do you for?”
Aiden didn’t know where to begin. All of his questions surged forward in his mind so that it was impossible to net just one and articulate it.
“I’ve been thinking about what we discussed,” he began tentatively.
“Mmm.” Guy gave a non-committal response. Aiden wondered where he even was. Was he currently at work, out leading an investigation in some exotic location? It was certainly a far cry from where Aiden was; sat in a darkened office in a small backwater town trying to evade the ghosts of the past.
“The cartel involved,” Aiden decided to just be bold and direct. He wouldn’t get any answers unless he asked some questions.
“Can you tell me anymore about them?”
“I’ve already told you too much,” Guy replied quietly.
“Really, I just need anything,” Aiden pressed him. “A name, a date, anything at all that could point me in their direction.”
“And why would you want to be pointed in their direction?” Guy asked, sounding suspicious. “Most people run the opposite way from these kinds of men. You’re not thinking about doing something stupid, are you?”
The question caught Aiden off guard. Was he thinking about doing something stupid? At this point he didn’t even know. He just knew that the amended death certificate hadn’t been enough. Justin’s killer needed to be brought to justice.
“Revenge is a dark path to go down,” Guy warned.
Aiden didn’t want revenge. Did he?
“No, God no,” Aiden quickly reassured his contact. “I’ve no intention of going after them or anything stupid like that. I’m just…intrigued, that’s all.”
“Most men wouldn’t push this, Connelly. So what’s your deal, you thinking about joining the Bureau or something?”
Aiden leaned back in his chair.
“I don’t know,” he admitted truthfully. “Maybe.”
If he worked for the FBI he’d have better access to Justin’s sealed files. He could discover the names of the cartel members, possibly even the name of his friend’s killer. He didn’t truly understand why he wanted the information as he didn’t know what he could even do with it. He just needed some sort of closure. Something more finite than a piece of paper reinforcing a lie.
“How about you call me when you’ve made your mind up?” Guy suggested. “The Bureau could definitely use a guy like you. You were always one of the smart ones, Connelly.”
“Thanks,” Aiden took a breath, preparing to speak again but the line went dead. Guy had abruptly signed off, plunging Aiden back into silence.
*
Promptly, at five o’clock, Aiden locked up the front doors to Copes and May. He dropped the keys into his pocket and slowly approached his parked car. Betty had already finished for the day. Aiden liked the idea of giving the new offices a new lease of life, a fresh identity to reflect the new ownership, but he was feeling more restless than he had before. The only thing keeping him in Avalon was the promise made to a now-deceased friend. A promise which Aiden intended to keep but still…
Questions about Justin kept gnawing at the back of his mind, refusing to subside. He’d been unable to save his friends all those years ago, but perhaps he could redeem himself by avenging him?
But redeem himself to who? The loaded question darted around Aiden’s weary head as he turned the key in the ignition and began to drive home. As he pulled into the driveway of his house, he had his answer. It was himself. He was his harshest critic, his fiercest judge; he needed to honour Justin’s memory and uncover the truth just so that he could face his reflection in the mirror each morning. Everyone was always telling Aiden what a good man he was but if he didn’t feel like one inside, what did their words matter? He needed to make their comments true, to be the kind of man everyone already thought he was.
As Aiden walked through his front door, he braced himself for the wall of silence he’d smack against. He flinched slightly as he passed through it. He tried not to think about how Meegan would usually shout out in glee when she saw him, or how the home usually smelled of dinner cooking in the oven. Everything was exactly how he had left it that morning, the house was undisturbed.
He didn’t have much of an appetite so he just pulled a beer from the fridge and went and dropped himself down on to the sofa.
He’d just popped the top off his second beer and started watching a documentary on climate change when there was a knock at the front door. The sound was so distinct and unexpected that it caused his heart to start pounding in his chest. He quickly ran through a mental list of who it could be.
Had Isla returned with Meegan, having changed her mind about the divorce? Surely not, as a couple they were too broken to ever be repaired. Perhaps it was Buck Fern, the old sherriff, come to pay one of his trademark unexpected visits laced with accusations and barbed comments. Aiden sighed as he walked towards the door. He was in no mood to tolerate Buck Fern that evening. But as he opened the latch and let in the cool evening air he felt all thoughts evaporate from his mind. His mouth fell open in shock and he was rendered speechless.
“Hi,” Brandy smiled shyly at him. She had a single duffel bag beside her feet. Her long blonde hair was neatly braided down her back but a few stray strands had come loose and now danced gently in the soft breeze.
Her dark eyes glistened with unshed tears as she regarded Aiden.
“I decided to come back to Avalon,” she said simply. “I decided to come home.”
CARINA™
ISBN: 978-1-474-02831-8
Third to Die
Copyright © 2015 Carys Jones
Published in Great Britain (2015)
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