Third to Die (6 page)

“Why aren’t you watching?” Isla called to him. She paused the movie with the remote, freezing the characters in their conflict.

“I don’t know,” Aiden shrugged as he walked back in with a cold beer held to his lips. “I guess I was…thinking.”

“About what?”

Aiden sat back down but kept his distance from his wife. Baby talk was safe. He was comfortable discussing her pregnancy but he wasn’t ready to start divulging what had happened at work. He hadn’t told her about Edmond, about the cancer. He didn’t know if he could trust Isla again. He tried to ignore his doubts, to focus on the positive; that they were having another child together. But the doubts remained and they polluted his thoughts and made him withdrawn when they bubbled to the surface of his mind.

“Work is just intense,” Aiden told her vaguely as he sipped his beer.

“I miss having a nice cold beer on a hot night,” Isla looked longingly at the bottle.

“Another eight months or so and you can have one.”

“Yeah.”

Aiden pressed the remote and the movie continued. He stared blankly at the screen, nursing his beer whilst Isla watched him out of the corner of her eye. Finally she couldn’t take it anymore and she stopped the movie once more.

“Talk to me,” she insisted.

“We’ve been talking.”

“Something is bothering you, I can tell.”

“I’m fine, let’s just watch the end of the movie and go to bed.”

“Aid, I want you to open up to me.” Isla reached out for his face and turned him to look directly at her. His cheeks were rough with newly grown stubble beneath her fingertips.

“Please,” she urged him. “Don’t block me out.”

Aiden looked into her emerald eyes and then let his gaze drift down to her stomach which was still flat and not showing.

“We can be close again,” Isla insisted. “We can put all that business with Samuel Fern behind us.”

Isla had previously intervened in the paternity case, revealing the truth to old Samuel Fern behind Aiden’s back. But she told herself that her intentions were good, that she had been ultimately trying to protect her own family at the expense of potentially destroying another.

“Can we?” Aiden asked. He drained the rest of his beer and placed the empty bottle upon the floor.

“Buck Fern basically threatened me yesterday. He pulled me up on the side of the road and told me he wants us to leave Avalon. He said that his brother could have me disbarred for misconduct.”

“Oh God,” Isla declared pityingly. “Is that why you were so upset when you came home yesterday?”

She remembered how Aiden had barely said a word that night. He kissed both his wife and daughter on the forehead before disappearing outside in the garden where he sat on the small patio until the crickets sang and the sun had dropped below the horizon. Then he came in and went to bed, a pained expression distorting his handsome features. Isla tried several times to reach him but he was too lost in whatever sadness had consumed him. Experience had taught her that when her husband retreated into himself like that she just had to wait for him to resurface in his own time.

“Yeah…I guess.”

“Could Samuel Fern really have you disbarred?”

“It’s possible,” Aiden sighed, leaning forward so that his elbows were resting on his knees. “You should never have gone to him like you did.”

“Aid, we’ve been through this,” Isla said through gritted teeth. “I was trying to protect our family.”

“Well, it’s done now.” Aiden suddenly stood up. He paced the small length of the living room as he reminded himself over and over that Isla was pregnant, that their family was expanding and he had to forgive her past indiscretions and they had to move on.

“How many times can I say I’m sorry?” Isla beseeched him.

Aiden could feel his emotions mounting within him. His grief flooded his senses as it tried to drown him. He ceased pacing and stood before his wife, shoulders slumped.

“It’s not just that,” he admitted, his voice low.

“Then what is it?” Isla asked anxiously, getting up and standing before him.

“It’s Edmond.” Aiden felt his voice catch in his throat, barely able to say the words.

“What about Edmond?” Isla reached out and took his hands in hers, unifying them.

“He’s…” Aiden raised his eyes to the ceiling, blinking rapidly to allow gravity to pull back some of his mounting tears.

“He’s sick, really sick. I fear he may be dying.”

“Oh, Aid!” Isla pressed herself against her husband’s lean chest and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly against her.

“That’s so awful,” she muttered into his shirt.

“Yeah,” Aiden agreed tearfully as he hugged her back. For a while they just stood there.

Isla was silent in her relief that Aiden’s anguish wasn’t solely based upon her past behaviour.

As Aiden held his wife, he tried not to focus on Edmond’s pale, withdrawn face which haunted his mind. People overcame cancer on a daily basis, Aiden had to think that Edmond could easily be one of those people. He would be a survivor, he had to be.

But beneath his grief for Edmond, Aiden felt something else darkening his heart. Something which could potentially prove more toxic to the stability of his life in Avalon. He tried not to think of her, he kept telling himself that the phone call was the last one he’d ever make to her. They’d said goodbye, it was time to forget about Brandy. Yet each time he closed his eyes she was there, smiling sweetly at him. He yearned for her in a way that seemed both unnatural and completely innate. It was like she was a part of him and in severing his connection with her he’d subsequently lost a key component of his own soul and now he was only half a man, struggling to cope.

“I’m sure Edmond will be okay,” Isla’s voice sounded distant when she spoke. Aiden realized it was because he was so preoccupied with his own thoughts. He too hoped against hope that Edmond would be okay. But he wasn’t so sure about himself. Aiden was trying so hard to anchor himself to Isla, to his family, but what if all he was doing was placing an even greater burden upon his already overwhelmed shoulders?

*

The smell of cooked chicken permeated throughout the house as the small bird roasted in the oven. Aiden was sat on the sofa entertaining Meegan as his wife prepared dinner in the kitchen.

“For you.” Meegan lifted a pink plastic cup and saucer with her pudgy hands and raised it towards her father. She was having an afternoon tea party with three of her dolls and Aiden in attendance. The centrepiece of the gathering was Meegan’s beloved foam finger from a previous football game. It wasn’t long until a game was due to start on the television and then Meegan would abandon her tea party in favour of sitting on her father’s lap and watching the two teams clash over the prized football.

“Thank you,” Aiden said courteously as he accepted the cup from her and took a sip from the imaginary tea inside.

“Mmm, it’s good.” He smiled warmly at his little girl.

“I gave you three sugars!”

“Three!” Aiden exclaimed.

“Yes, I put sugar in yours and then—” The sound of the doorbell ringing forced Aiden’s attention away from Meegan as she prattled on to herself about how she’d made her father’s cup of tea.

Aiden turned his head to listen as Isla audibly sighed and then went over to the front door. He heard her unlock the latch and let in the cooled air from outside. The sun was still hiding behind a dense cover of cloud, leaving the day blissfully chilled.

“Hello?” his wife greeted the caller but she sounded uncertain, as though she were facing a stranger. A moment later, she appeared in the lounge.

“There’s someone here to see you,” she explained to Aiden.

“Who?” he asked as he stood up.

“I don’t know,” Isla shook her mahogany curls.

“Okay,” Aiden handed his plastic cup back to Meegan, who scrunched her little face up in disgust.

“Don’t worry, Mommy will join the party,” Isla quickly sat down and Meegan was instantly appeased, handing the empty cup to her mother and explaining how she’d put three sugars in it.

Aiden wandered towards the open front door. He could clearly see a tall man standing there, patiently waiting, but his gaze was pulled away from the house, thus hiding his features.

“Hey,” Aiden announced his arrival and the stranger turned and looked at him. Aiden straightened in shock. He felt as though he were looking at a ghost.

Even though time had thinned his hairline and drawn lines around his eyes, there was no mistaking the ash-blonde hair and pale-blue eyes of John Rogers. Aiden blinked at his old friend in shock. He had not seen him since the day of Justin Thompson’s funeral, which felt like another lifetime ago.

“John?” Aiden uttered in amazement.

“Hey, Aiden,” John smiled sadly at him. “You look good!” he noted with slight enthusiasm.

“Thanks. I can’t believe you’re here! How long has it been?”

“A long time.” John shoved his hands deep into his jean pockets and lingered awkwardly on Aiden’s door step.

“Come in, come in,” Aiden ushered him inside and showed him through to the kitchen. As Aiden closed the front door, he saw the pickup truck John had arrived in. It was weather-beaten and old and sat like an unwanted used penny next to Aiden’s gleaming car, which was relatively new.

“That your wife?” John asked as he sat down at the small kitchen table, folding his long legs around the chair.

“Yeah,” Aiden nodded. “Can I get you a drink or something?”

“A coffee would be good. She seems nice.”

“Thanks.” Aiden began making them both a cup of coffee. “Are you married?”

“I was.” John said solemnly. “Not anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.”

“Hey.” Isla appeared in the doorway with Meegan in her arms, casting an inquisitive glance at John.

“Hey, honey, this here is John Rogers, one of my old friends from school. John, this is my wife Isla and my daughter, Meegan.”

“Nice to meet you,” John smiled politely at Isla. “You’ve got a beautiful daughter.”

“Thank you,” Isla proudly smoothed Meegan’s hair down. “I’ll leave you boys to catch up.”

She turned and retreated back to the lounge.

Aiden handed John a mug of coffee and sat down across from him.

“I’ve got to say, it’s a huge surprise to see you!” he admitted. It was surreal to be looking at John. Seeing him instantly sent him back to that fateful night in Alex’s shed.

“I bet you’re wondering why I’m here,” John stated factually.

“Well, yeah,” Aiden nodded. “Not that it isn’t great to see you, but it’s been a hell of a long time.”

“Last I heard, you were some big shot in Chicago,” John ran a hand down his face as he spoke. His nails were short and edged with dirt. “Then I saw you on the news a while back about some woman you’d saved from death row. Took me forever to find this little back water town.”

“It’s kind of out of the way.”

“Why’d you move?” John suddenly asked. “Why leave Chicago for somewhere like this?”

“I wanted a simpler life.”

“You should know that life isn’t simple, no matter where you go,” John said gravely.

“You come here just to catch up?” Aiden wondered.

“No,” John shook his head fervently. “I sure as hell wouldn’t haul my ass into the middle of nowhere just to find out how you’re doing! I’m sorry I didn’t call or email or anything first. I sort of wanted to talk to you about this in person.”

“Talk about what?”

“When I saw you on the news and heard about how you’d saved that woman’s life, I knew you’d be able to help.”

“Help you, how?”

“No, not me,” John corrected him. “I need you to help Justin.”

Aiden cleared his throat awkwardly and drank some of his coffee.

“I think Justin might be past my help,” he finally said. “What with him being dead and all.”

“That’s just it!” John leaned forward and lowered his voice. “We all believed that Justin slid off the road that night due to the rain and that’s why he died!”

“Because that’s what happened.” Aiden internally winced at being forced to revisit that night. He’d tried so ardently to move on, to forget about those awful events which preceded Justin’s untimely death and marked the end of the group’s friendship.

“No.” John pointed a dirtied nail at his old friend. “That’s what we were told happened.”

“Where is this coming from?” Aiden asked tensely.

“After the funeral you up and left town,” John recollected. “You were so eager to leave, to move on from it all. You went to college, moved to Chicago. You were in another world, Aid. But some of us, we stayed. And our town was plagued with rumours surrounding Justin’s death, people saying he didn’t skid out in the rain. People saying that he was killed.”

“People always talk,” Aiden sighed wearily. “It’s just small-town gossip, nothing more.”

“That’s what I thought, too!” John agreed, his blue eyes energized and wide. “I thought it was just talk until Alex tried to take a look at the police report.”

“How would Alex access the police report?”

“He’s a cop now,” John hurriedly exclaimed. “He works on the local force. One night we got to talking about all the rumours and he said he’d take a look and put our minds at rest. Only there was no police file. There was nothing about Justin’s accident. Don’t you find that strange?”

Aiden tried to take everything in but he was irked by the fact that John and Alex had remained friends. It was only Aiden who had felt the need to ostracize himself from the group.

“I don’t know,” Aiden struggled to understand what John was asking of him. “Sometimes files go missing, with old cases I doubt it’s that unusual.”

“But it is!” John insisted. “When Alex started asking questions, the old cops got real wound up and told him to stop sticking his nose into old business. Aid, clearly something went down that night that has since been covered up.”

“And what? You and Alex put your heads together and decided it was time to start digging up the past?”

“Justin was our friend,” John lowered his eyes and clasped his hands together. “I feel that we owe it to him to uncover the truth about his death.”