Third to Die (23 page)

*

“I’m sure I can handle whatever information you have for me,” Aiden nodded confidently, though he wasn’t certain he could. Guy glanced around and leaned in towards his old friend. The burger bar was relatively quiet in the lull between lunch and dinner.

“The reason your friend’s files are still confidential is because they are connected to an ongoing investigation.”

“Ongoing?” Aiden frowned. “But he died almost a decade ago? How can that even be possible?”

“It happens a lot in these sort of cases.”

“What sort of cases?” Aiden felt his chest constrict in anticipation of unwelcome news.

Guy smoothed his hand across his brow and his shoulders sagged.

“Just so we’re clear, I tell you this and we’re done? I’ve returned the favour.”

“Yes,” Aiden nodded assertively. “Absolutely.”

“Okay, so you think your friend was killed in a motorcycle accident?”

“Yes.”

“But his file tells me that wasn’t the case. He was murdered by some drug cartel he was working for.”

Aiden froze. Two words began to spin madly round his mind. Murdered. Cartel. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“The local P.D. were supposed to cover it up to make it officially look like an accident. The FBI were involved in bringing the head of the cartel to justice. Like I said, its standard practice in these sort of cases that it can take years to build up a solid case against someone. Deaths, like that of your friend, are often part of a much bigger picture which is why they have to be kept quiet. If it got out that the cartel had been involved in his murder it could risk the rest of the investigation.”

“Justin didn’t work for any sort of cartel.” Aiden declared with certainty.

Guy rolled his eyes and smiled sadly.

“I’m pretty sure he did, Aiden. Think back, did he have a lot of money for a kid his age? Would be randomly make big purchases? I’ve seen this type of thing a lot over the years. He was running drugs into the state for them. Like I said, I didn’t think you’d want to hear this.”

Aiden did think back. He thought of Justin’s leather jacket, of his beloved motorcycle. Whenever he was quizzed about how he’d come about them he was always vague. But Aiden never saw the items as a red flag. He realized now just how naive he had been.

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” Guy continued solemnly. “You should know by now that everyone has their secrets. But that’s all I can tell you, the case on the cartel is still open which means I’ve already said too much.”

“No, you’ve been really helpful,” Aiden replied numbly.

“I can, however, give you this,” Guy reached into his back pocket and pulled out a neatly folded document. He slid it across the table to Aiden.

“I told the Bureau your line about representing the deceased’s mother and her needing the amended death certificate, so there you go. It was the responsibility of the local P.D. to sort that out for her but I guess they overlooked it,” Guy said the last part bitterly, as though he regularly encountered incompetence within local police forces.

Aiden carefully unfolded the document. It was Justin’s death certificate, only now the cause of death was neatly typed within the relevant box; motorcycle accident. Only it wasn’t the truth. The truth was much murkier than Aiden could have predicted.

“So how did he die?” He pressed Guy for details. Across from him he shook his golden mane.

“I’ve told you all I can.”

“Please,” Aiden pleaded. “He was one of my best friends.”

“Then you’re better off not knowing.”

Their food arrived, leaving them briefly distracted from their conversation.

*

Isla struggled to manoeuvre the buggy into the elevator. The entire walk back from the park Meegan had wailed, thrashing her legs about manically and crying until her cheeks were red raw.

“Daddy!” she sobbed. “I want Daddy!”

Isla did her best to ignore both her daughter and also the judgemental glances she attracted from passers-by as she headed back to her apartment building.

“Daddy had to go back to work,” she had initially informed her daughter softly. When Meegan failed to accept this response, she decided to just let her tantrum play out. But as she hauled the buggy into the constricted space of the elevator, she realized that Meegan was more distraught than she thought she would have been. It was as if the little girl somehow understood that she wouldn’t be seeing her father again for quite some time.

Wedged behind the buggy, Isla had to stretch awkwardly across it to press the button for her relevant floor. The doors slowly closed and she heard the mechanics of the system begin to clamp around the tiny metal box and pull it upwards.

“Daddy!” Meegan cried, her voice now hoarse and almost broken. Isla closed her eyes and willed herself to hold it together. She was almost back at her apartment, just a few more floors.

“Daddy!”

“Meegs,” Isla lowered herself so that she was at her daughter’s eye level. “I don’t expect you to understand this, not yet anyway. But your daddy and I have separated. It doesn’t mean we don’t love each other, it certainly doesn’t mean that we don’t love you, it just means that things are going to change, for all of us.”

As Isla spoke, repressed tears trickled down her cheeks, smudging her make-up.

“I just need you to be a good little girl and try to understand.”

The doors parted at their floor just as Isla stood up. She sniffed and quickly wiped her eyes. Thankfully there was no one around as she pushed the buggy down the corridor towards her apartment. And Meegan had been stunned into silence by the sight of her mother crying.

*

“I appreciate you meeting me here today,” Aiden said as they headed outside. The iron sky overhead promised the imminent threat of rain.

“Well, now we’re even.” Guy smiled politely and lowered his sunglasses over his eyes.

“Thanks for the certificate.” Aiden tapped his pocket where the document was now stowed.

“I hope it gives you closure.” Guy stepped away from Aiden and prepared to head deeper into the city when he stopped. He looked back at his old college friend.

Aiden was standing just beyond the burger bar. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and stared forlornly at the ground. He kept replaying past events in his mind. Justin had never mentioned that he was smuggling drugs, if he had then Aiden might have been able to talk him out of it thus saving his life. For so long he had believed that Justin’s death had been a tragic accident, but now to know that he died deliberately by someone’s hand was almost too much to bear.

Why hadn’t Justin trusted Aiden enough to share with him his secret? Why didn’t he tell him about the cartel? About the drugs? They had been best friends, hadn’t they?

“How’s Isla?” Guy asked brightly as he headed back to Aiden, trying to make polite small talk.

“We’re getting divorced,” Aiden replied flatly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, that sucks.”

“Actually, I’m not sure it does.”

“Aiden, are you okay?”

“Do you ever feel like everything you held to be true is actually just a lie?” Aiden pondered.

Guy shrugged nonchalantly.

“Sometimes, I guess that happens to us all.”

“I thought I was a husband, a decent father. I thought I was Justin’s close friend. What if it turns out that I was actually never any of those things?”

“Look,” Guy placed a comforting hand upon Aiden’s shoulder. “You’ve been dealt a couple of tough breaks, we’ve all been there. I’m sorry your friend kept secrets from you, I imagine it was difficult for him to do so. If you need me in the future…” Guy pulled a pristine white business card from his pocket and passed it to Aiden. He glanced briefly at the embossed details.

“I thought that after today we were done?” Aiden frowned as he read Guy’s cell phone number upon the card.

“Maybe that was yet another truth which turned out to be a lie,” Guy raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly. “You just seem like you could use a friend,” he released Aiden’s shoulder to pat him on the back.

“Are you happy, Guy? You made some controversial decisions, do you still stand by them or do you wonder what might have been if you’d done things differently?”

“I never look back,” Guy pointed at Aiden, “and neither should you. If you spend too much time looking back you just end up with a sore neck.”

“I guess,” Aiden turned the business card over in his hand. It looked expensive.

“Take care, Connelly,” Guy waved briefly and was soon gone from sight.

Aiden placed the business card in his pocket beside Justin’s updated death certificate. Soon he’d return to Greensburg and give Mrs. Thompson the new certificate. He knew that John and Alex were also waiting upon his return, waiting on answers. But it wasn’t just the residents of Greensburg that needed him. He had to go back home to Avalon, open up the doors to Copes and May and start making good on his promise to Edmond. First, there was one final person he had to visit in Chicago.

*

Brandy kissed her aunt on the cheek before heading out the front door of the salon. With her working day concluded, she was in high spirits. The wind danced through her hair as she stepped on to the sidewalk, causing it to cascade behind her like an ethereal veil. Pulling her coat tight, Brandy walked into the wind. Instead of crossing the street and heading towards her apartment building, she carried straight on. She wasn’t ready to face the loneliness of her apartment, not yet. She wanted to prolong her current buzz for as long as possible.

Aiden knocked on the door for the third time. The sound bounced back into the corridor. Holding his breath he waited. Still the door remained closed. Raising his fist he paused just before he connected it with the painted wood. What if she wasn’t in? He knew he should have called first but, in his eagerness to see her, he’d decided to bypass something as arbitrary as a phone call. Releasing his fist he ran his hand through his hair.

What if she was there and was just choosing to ignore him? He couldn’t blame her. He kept breaking any promises he made to her. He eyed the peep-hole embedded into the door warily. Was she stood there on the other side watching him? No, she’d never do that. She was too kind to leave him waiting. That meant that she wasn’t in. Aiden quickly racked his mind; where else could she be? His flight was leaving in just under three hours, he was running out of time.

*

The forgotten ballroom was empty as Brandy quietly walked in. She sighed contentedly as she approached her beloved white piano. Removing her coat she hung it neatly over the back of a nearby chair and then sat down on the small piano bench.

Without the warmth her coat provided, she shivered slightly in the cool of the vast room. The months were growing colder now and she wondered when, if ever, the hotel would turn on the heating.

Gently, Brandy lowered her fingers on to the ivory keys. She let them rest there for a moment, and then she began to play. She’d only been able to memorize a few songs during her lessons. There was one she was particularly fond of; it was the melody she had played for Aiden. As she performed the familiar tune she tried to lose herself in the music. She didn’t want to think about Aiden anymore. He’d let her down yet again. His drunken promises of meeting with her had come to nothing. Brandy felt foolish to keep believing in him.

She pressed down hard as she played a chord. The sound reverberated through the wooden piano and echoed around the ballroom. She continued to press heavily upon the keys, her shoulders rising and falling with each note.

She wouldn’t let him in, never again. Each time he called she filled up like a hopeful balloon, only to have him swiftly pop her fragile exterior, leaving her utterly deflated. Brandy vigorously pressed more keys, the song reaching its conclusion. She bit her lip as she played in an attempt to stop her emotions spewing out of her and covering the piano.

The song finished and Brandy lifted her hands from the keys. She was trembling and breathing hard.

“That was beautiful.”

Her breath caught in her throat when she heard the familiar voice. She wanted to turn round, to see if it was really him but she forced herself to remain facing the piano. She heard his footsteps approaching her.

“It’s a pleasure to listen to you play,” he said softly, a few feet behind her.

Brandy closed her eyes with pained frustration and swivelled round on the bench. When she looked up, Aiden was there, wearing a crumpled shirt and a sorrowful expression. He seemed different somehow, like a worn-out version of his usual self. She saw the dark circles beneath his eyes, the new lines across his forehead.

“I went by your apartment,” he explained nervously, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets. “When you weren’t there I figured you’d be here.”

“I’m often here.” Brandy replied curtly.

“I was hoping we could talk,” Aiden took a tentative step towards her. Brandy scowled at him.

“I’ve nothing to say.”

She wished he hadn’t come there, to her sanctuary. To the place where they’d had their intoxicating first kiss. He was soiling it all with his presence. If he didn’t want her, why couldn’t he just let her go? Why did he insist on continually torturing her? Didn’t he know it was torture to see him and not be able to have him?

“Brandy, I’m so sorry I didn’t come and see you last week.”

Brandy clenched her jaw.

“I wanted to see you, desperately, believe me. But something happened back in Avalon.”

Brandy maintained a stony silence.

“Edmond…” Aiden sniffed and wiped a raised a hand and wiped it across his eyes. “Edmond passed.”

This managed to melt the ice coating Brandy’s welcome. Her whole body wilted and she shot Aiden a woeful glance.

“Edmond? Are you serious? He died?”

Aiden nodded, suddenly unable to speak. In less than a second Brandy had left the piano bench and crossed the distance between them. She flung her arms around Aiden, squeezing him tight. She smelled of vanilla and strawberries.

“Oh God, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, Aiden.”

Lifting his arms, Aiden held her against him. His body shuddered with grief but he couldn’t escape how amazing it felt to be so close to her.