Third To Die

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.

“People don’t need to know about your past,” Rhonda said softly. “That’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it? That people will judge you?”

“Won’t they?” Back in Avalon everyone had judged Brandy. She couldn’t walk a block without hearing whispered negative comments carried back to her on the breeze. She tried to hold her head high, to rise above it but people looked at her as though she were an unwanted bug which they desperately wanted to destroy. Even after her name had been cleared following Brandon’s death, she couldn’t lose the harsh judgement of Avalon’s residents. Their cruel opinions seemed to have stuck to her, making them unchangeable and permanent.

“No!” Rhonda insisted. “You need to go out, do some shots, dance and forget all about your mystery man back home!”

“Mmm,” Brandy still wasn’t convinced.

“Because let’s face it, Brandy. He’s clearly forgotten about you.”

Rhonda’s observation was harsh but true and it was just what Brandy needed to hear.

“I’ll go.” She nodded assertively.

“Good girl!” Rhonda declared triumphantly. “See you at eight-thirty. Wear something inappropriate.”

Brandy ended the call and let the silence of her apartment settle over her. She knew that Rhonda was right, not just about the fact that she needed to get out but also about Aiden having forgotten about her. And sitting around on her own, night after night, wasn’t going to change anything. If he was going to call then he’d have called. Brandy stood up purposefully and marched in the direction of her bedroom to select an outfit to wear for the evening.

*

Aiden parked up outside the Copes and May offices and glanced inside. He could see Betty positioned neatly behind her desk, typing away with her glasses perched precariously on the end of her nose. He didn’t like what he was about to do.

“Ah, Mr. Connelly,” Betty greeted him brightly, removing her glasses as she looked up from her computer monitor so that they were hanging around her neck.

“How did everything go with Clyde White? I hope he didn’t give you too frosty a reception.”

“He was as expected,” Aiden raised his shoulders slightly. “I came away in one piece which was all I could have hoped for.”

“Oh, good.” Betty went to put her glasses back on when she realized that instead of continuing on to his own office, Aiden was hovering awkwardly by her desk.

“Coffee?” she asked him. “I’ll just finish this payment and then I’ll get right on it.”

“Actually, I need to talk to you.”

“Oh.” Betty turned and gave him her full attention, her eyes bright with interest.

“Can you come in my office?” Aiden suggested.

“Of course.” Betty immediately stood up and carefully straightened her skirt before following Aiden into his office.

“Take a seat.” Aiden gestured to Edmond’s chair. Tentatively, Betty lowered herself into it, clasping her hands neatly in her lap and leaning forward like a child awaiting sentencing from an angry teacher.

“I need to talk to you about Edmond,” Aiden sighed, leaning against his desk rather than sitting.

“Oh?”

“When I went to see Clyde White he told me that Edmond is more than a bit sick. That he’s actually terminally ill.”

“Oh my.” Betty’s left hand fluttered up to her chest as she took a sharp intake of breath.

“So following my appointment with Mr. White, I went to check in on Edmond. You know how he is; he kept us in the dark to prevent worrying us. But it’s cancer, Betty, and it’s bad.”

Betty wore a grave expression as she stared intently at the carpeted floor, one hand still resting upon her chest.

“I hate being the bearer of bad news but he wanted you to know. He expressly asked me to come and tell you.”

Betty began to shake her head woefully.

“No,” she uttered, her voice barely audible. “Not him too!”

Aiden went and knelt beside her, cupping her right hand in his own.

“He’s one of the good ones, Mr. Connelly,” Betty declared as she looked up to meet his gaze. Watery pools gathered beneath her eyes and began to slowly burst their banks and descend down the wrinkled crevasses in her cheeks.

“I know,” Aiden tightened his grip on her hand which was trembling with despair. “And please, call me Aiden.”

Betty’s entire body began to shudder as her tears intensified. Aiden sat and held her hand as she cried, knowing there was little else he could do to comfort her.

“I’m sorry,” Betty muttered as she tried to compose herself.

“Don’t be.”

“May I be excused?” Betty struggled to her feet and wiped some of the tears from her face.

“Of course,” Aiden immediately replied. “Take all the time you need, Betty. I know how much you care for Edmond.”

“Will he accept visitors?” she asked, her voice on the cusp of breaking.

“Yes,” Aiden nodded. “But perhaps wait until tomorrow. Edna mentioned that having visitors tires him.”

“Then may I take leave tomorrow to visit him?”

“Absolutely.”

Betty took slow, deep breaths as her sorrow subsided. Carefully she straightened both her hair and her outfit.

“He’s more than an employer to me,” she told Aiden with certainty. “He’s a friend.”

“I feel the same way.”

“That’s the magic of Avalon,” Betty added wistfully. “There are no strangers here, only family. It’s why people never leave.”

Aiden resisted pointing out that he was still very much a stranger in the eyes of the majority of Avalon’s residents.

He watched Betty leave, sharing her anguish. Edmond was indeed a good man and a good friend to them both. Alone in his office, Aiden began to contemplate his time spent in Avalon. Edmond had always been there to watch over him, to guide him. He was one of the few people in town who were proud of Aiden’s triumph with Brandy’s case. Everyone else felt like Aiden had betrayed the memory of Brandon White by exposing the truth, but Edmond could see past that and saw the tremendous victory that had occurred; that Aiden had saved the life of an innocent woman.

Thinking about Brandy made Aiden’s whole body tense with guilt. He should have called her. He knew that. He owed her an explanation, he owed her a goodbye. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, leaned back in his chair and made the call he’d been dreading.

*

Brandy rarely drank. After she’d downed the third shot Rhonda had bought her, she began to feel like she was floating and that the whole world had tilted on its axis. Dreamily she manoeuvred herself on to the dance floor where the rest of the evening became a blur of neon lights and pounding melodies which encouraged her body to move at a frenzied pace.

Somehow Brandy made it back to her apartment. She didn’t remember Rhonda struggling to place her in a cab, or how the driver insisted that if she threw up he’d kick her out. She didn’t remember anything until she woke up face down on her bed, atop all of the covers and still wearing her outfit from the night before.

The sun burned brightly through her windows. Having been too drunk to close her curtains, it seared across the bed and caused Brandy to wince and move. As she rolled over she felt almost blinded by its brilliance.

“Owww,” she shielded her eyes and groggily sat up. The room spun slightly but then settled. Brandy raised a hand to her head which felt like it had been stuffed with cotton wool balls as she slept.

“Owww,” she moaned again as she pushed herself off the bed and headed for her main living area where she poured herself a glass of water which she downed in one. Her throat felt brittle and dry, as if she had been eating sandpaper all evening.

The water helped the sensation, but only a little. Everything ached. Brandy already wanted to go back to bed and sleep away the discomfort. She was about to turn back around and return to her room when she noticed the display on her answering machine was flashing with the number one. Her heart froze in her chest and for a prolonged moment she stared at it in disbelief. Then she pressed play and stood and listened to her solitary message.

“Brandy, it’s me, Aiden. I know I should have called sooner but…I’m sorry. I can’t, I won’t be coming to Chicago. Things here in Avalon are…complicated. I’m sorry, Brandy. Truly I am. Please don’t hate me.”

Brandy played the message three more times. After the third round of apologies, she firmly pressed the delete button and retreated back to her bedroom, taking care to close her curtains and seal herself off from the world outside.

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