Fourth To Run. Carys Jones
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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