by Carys Jones
“Nothing unusual.”
“Mmm.” Buck thoughtfully stroked his chin.
“So what the hell does it mean?” Aiden pointed at the noose despairingly.
“What do you think it means?” Buck smiled slightly as he delivered the question, teasing Aiden.
“I…” Aiden looked at the noose and shrugged.
“For a smart guy you’re pretty dumb,” Buck snorted. “It’s a hangman’s noose. It could have been hung here as a threat. Like when you put a horse’s head in someone’s bed.”
Aiden frowned. Now Buck was definitely teasing him.
“So do you think this is a legitimate threat or not?” Aiden crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t have time to play games. He was supposed to be at work. He still needed to bring Brandy back to the house before he could head over to the offices. But the thought of leaving her alone at the house unsettled him.
“A noose in itself is not making any correlation to anything,” Buck concluded.
Aiden strode angrily over to the noose. He grabbed the guttering by the side of it and raised himself up slightly, his feet pressed against the wall of his house, so that he could pull the rope down. He reached into the gutter and pulled at the knot of rope which was holding the noose in place. After several attempts it dropped to the ground, coiling in on itself like a snake.
“Fucking thing,” Aiden moaned as he released the gutter and lowered himself the short distance down.
“I’d try and forget about it,” Buck advised.
“Forget about it?” Aiden kicked the rope angrily. “How can I forget about it? You know as well as I do who put this here and the kind of message they are trying to send me!”
Aiden shoved his hands through his hair and paced along his driveway.
“Look,” Buck sighed. “I can keep an eye on the place if that would make you feel any easier about things?”
Aiden snapped his head up to look for signs that the old sheriff was yet again teasing him, but his expression was stoic, his thin lips set in a genial line.
“I just…what the hell am I supposed to do about this?” Aiden raised his shoulder tersely towards the rope.
“Ignore it.” Buck replied flatly. “They will just be looking to scare ya. And, job done, they’ve succeeded. Doubt you’ll be returning to San Migeno anytime soon?”
“No,” Aiden agreed, “definitely not.”
“Then to them it’s job done,” Buck shrugged. “I bet the car has gone too.”
Aiden thought for a moment. He hadn’t seen the car that morning. Perhaps they had gone but that always felt too good to be true.
“Go take a shower and get on your with day,” Buck told him. “You look like shit.”
Aiden had to laugh at the bluntness of the comment.
“Thanks.”
“Go on, get!” Buck pointed briskly at the front door. “I’ll take care of this.” He stooped down to gather up the rope.
“Seriously, what’s got into you?” Aiden inquired as he opened his front door and glanced back. “You used to hate me.”
“Who says I don’t?” Buck asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Now go sort yourself out, Connelly. As I said, you look like shit.”
*
Brandy was still shaken up over seeing the noose that morning. She’d also noticed the way Aiden had paled when she mentioned the blacked-out car. As she wandered around the clothing store, she tried to distract herself with all the pretty items on display.
She held pretty cotton dresses up against her petite frame and admired dark denim skinny jeans. Everything looked so nice and at the outlet mall was discounted to a price she could actually afford. But Brandy had never really enjoyed shopping, not like other girls did. Aiden had been desperate to bundle her off to the outlet mall. It was like something snapped in him and he instinctively took her there, telling her she’d feel better if she did some shopping. He looked so harassed she didn’t bother to contradict him.
But since when had Brandy ever been consoled by retail therapy? It wasn’t her style. When she was stressed or upset, she went to church or, more recently, played upon her piano. A dark thought entered her mind, reflected in the darkening skies outside. Had Aiden taken her to the outlet mall because that’s what he’d do with his estranged wife whenever she was stressed? Was he starting to see her and Brandy as one and the same?
“No,” Brandy shook her head and willed herself to become more interested in the items around her. She lifted up a bright-blue sweater and admired the color of the fabric. She was still holding it when the noose by the window swung across her mind again, making her jump and drop the garment.
“Darn it,” Brandy dropped to her knees to pick the sweater up, her hands trembling as she did. The noose had swung with such a sickening motion. It wasn’t hard to imagine a lifeless body hanging within it, their neck snapped; their face deathly pale. Someone was threatening Aiden and possibly her too. Brandy’s time living in the trailer park had taught her all she needed to know about making threats. People would scratch a crude X on someone’s door and the following night their trailer would go up in flames. There was always a threat before the fire, like some strange criminal code giving the victims one final chance to flee.
Brandy put the sweater back and walked numbly through the rest of the store, wishing she wasn’t there, wishing she was back home with Aiden as it was by his side that she felt the most safe.
*
Buck slammed down the trunk of his patrol car, sealing the rope inside. He scratched his hand across his sullen cheek and sent a cursory glance along the street. There was no car with blacked-out windows creeping up the curb but Buck was certain the car would be back again soon. The noose was a warning. But Buck didn’t want to frighten Aiden, not yet.
He placed a hand on his hip, grateful for the pistol which was holstered there. It had been a long time since Buck Fern had fired his gun to kill, but it was a skill he’d not quickly forget. He drummed his fingers against the butt of the gun, his old hands eager to feel once again the power that came with taking another’s life.
*
Aiden struggled to focus at work. He arrived late and noticed gratefully that Betty had already opened up and headed inside.
“Morning, Betty.” Aiden smiled at her as the chime of the door tinkled behind him. He hoped he didn’t look as distressed as he felt.
“Good morning, Aiden,” Betty replied courteously, briefly pausing from typing on her keyboard to glance up at him.
Aiden was about to walk on towards his own office when he paused and swiveled on his heel.
“Have I had any messages?” he wondered. He kept hoping that Guy Chambers might have called him with some sort of explanation for what Aiden had found in Mexico, or rather the lack of findings which had awaited him.
Betty shook her head briskly. “No messages.”
“Oh,” Aiden’s shoulder slumped in disappointment.
“I took the liberty of getting you a coffee and a doughnut.” Betty’s lips lifted into a kind smile. Aiden noticed how her own tea and croissant were already half consumed on her desk.
“Thank you, Betty,” he told her sincerely. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Well, we’re a team, Aiden. It’s important that we support one another.”
“Yes,” Aiden agreed. “Yes it is.”
In his office he tried to occupy his mind with his tasks for the day. Emails were starting to trickle into his inbox as some of the less stubborn residents of Avalon felt that their legal needs outweighed their allegiance to Clyde White’s vendetta against Aiden.
Scanning through them, Aiden sighed audibly in relief. He’d feared that his decision to be with Brandy might signal the end of Copes and May, but the work was thankfully coming in. It wasn’t as much as before, but it would grow. Aiden was grateful both for the business and the distraction it offered. When he was working he wasn’t thinking about the cold sense of dread which had engulfed him that m
orning when he heard Brandy scream. Or the slow, sinister swing of the noose outside his kitchen window.
It took Aiden just over an hour to clear his inbox and the whole time the noose kept swinging in his mind’s eye like some macabre pendulum keeping time. The longer the image sat in Aiden’s thoughts, the more certain he became of the potency of the threat it brought with it. The people in the blacked-out car meant Aiden harm. More distressingly, they were targeting his home meaning that Brandy was also in danger.
Aiden pictured her there at that moment, gently humming to herself as her delicate fingers navigated their way along the piano keys. He had to protect her. He was the one who’d wanted her to return to Avalon, he couldn’t very well now put her life in jeopardy. Aiden reached out, grabbed the telephone on his desk and dialed a local number.
*
Buck Fern was sat with his feet up on his desk, holding the morning newspaper which he idly scanned with his eyes. A nearby cup of coffee was quickly cooling but he was happy to neglect it. He was already wide awake, he didn’t need the caffeine to jolt his senses into functioning.
In the paper he was looking for something, anything which could explain the presence of the car with the blacked-out windows in town. The crude noose was still in his trunk as he decided what to do with it. Buck turned the page of the paper and the phone on his desk began blinking, accompanied by an annoyingly shrill ring.
“Damn it.” Buck folded the paper and leaned over to grab the receiver which he nudged between his shoulder and left ear.
“Yeah?” he snarled to the caller.
“Sheriff, you’ve got an incoming call from Aiden Connelly,” the brisk voice of the sheriff station’s receptionist told him.
Buck sighed wearily.
“He says it’s urgent,” the receptionist added.
“Okay. I’ll take the call.”
There was a distant clicking sound on the line as the call was connected.
“Connelly?” Buck asked gruffly.
“Look, I keep thinking about that damn noose. And the car I’ve been seeing and I don’t like any of it. I think we need help. I think we need to involve the FBI.”
“About what?” Buck scratched a hand along his jawline. “You think the FBI are going to be interested in some prank and a car with blacked-out windows showing up in town?”
“You know it’s more than that,” Aiden’s voice wavered as though he were hurt by Buck’s dismissive comments.
“No,” Buck answered curtly. “I don’t.”
“I have to protect her!” Aiden lamented. “And I have to protect this town! I made a promise to Edmond to honor his legacy and I can’t do that if I’m six feet under in some unmarked grave with two bullet holes in my head.”
“Look, Connelly—”
“I’m scared, okay? Did you need to hear me say it? I’ve no idea what sort of people we might possibly be dealing with or what sort of lengths they’d go to. If they’ve taken the trouble to come all the way here to Avalon then, like you say, they’ve not come to take in the sights.”
Buck pulled his lips into a grim line and continued to listen.
“I want to call the FBI,” Aiden declared, though his voice lacked conviction. “I have a contact there, an old college friend, he can help us.”
“We shouldn’t be having this conversation on the phone,” Buck warned, dropping his cowboy boot-clad feet from the desk and leaning forward in his chair.
“Buck, please just hear me out—”
“I’m coming over.” Buck didn’t wait for Aiden to respond. He hung up the phone and stood up, reaching for his jacket which was slung over the back of his chair.
*
Twenty minutes later, Aiden heard the distant chime of the door to the offices opening. He held his breath and nervously tidied his desk. He knew who had just arrived. Smoothing down his tie, Aiden tried to calm his nerves, which felt frayed. He needed to protect Brandy no matter what, even if that meant turning to a man he despised for help.
Aiden still wasn’t sure why the old sheriff was even helping him. Was he just humoring him? Was he on the Caulerone brothers’ payroll and reporting back to them, letting them know that their plan to terrorize Aiden was working?
Aiden’s gazed darted around the familiar surface of his desk and settled on a framed picture of Meegan. She was beaming at the camera, holding one of her beloved foam fingers. Her little cheeks were bunched up and her eyes crinkled with joy. Aiden smiled tenderly at the picture and realized he was actually thankful that Meegan was in Chicago with her mother. In the city she was away from the eyes of whoever was in the blacked-out car. In the city she was safe.
As his eyes started to fill with tears, a knock came at his office door.
“Come in.” Aiden squeezed the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply, pulling his sorrow back down until he was alone and able to release it. Every inch of his body missed Meegan. It felt like someone had taken the sun from the sky and left him in complete darkness. But then he’d found Brandy and she’d restored some of the light but not all of it. Aiden wondered if he’d ever again feel complete when he was living so far apart from his beloved daughter.
The door opened and Betty partially entered.
“Sheriff Fern is here to see you,” she announced politely.
“Okay.” Aiden nodded. “Send him in, please.”
Betty drew back behind the door and was swiftly replaced by Buck Fern, whose eyes were currently shielded from Aiden beneath his stetson. He slowly entered the room, his sharp eyes glancing around and taking in the new furnishings.
“You’ve sure spruced the place up,” he commented flatly.
“Yeah, I wanted to make it feel…different.”
Buck removed his hat and sat down across from Aiden. He looked uncomfortable in the plush leather seat surrounded by modern furniture and sleek walls. He belonged in places with faded walls and worn-out chairs. Places that matched his sagging gait and tired eyes. In Aiden’s bright new office, Buck looked even older and more worn-out than normal.
“Thanks for coming over,” Aiden offered.
“I had to,” Buck replied tersely. “You were blathering on the phone like an idiot.”
Aiden coughed self-consciously and felt his cheeks start to burn.
“You’re not calling the FBI,” Buck pointed a finger at Aiden. “Or the CIA or any other Alphabet Soup organization you know.”
“But we need help,” Aiden insisted.
“Do we?” Buck drew himself forward to the edge of the expensive chair he was sat upon, his silver eyes suddenly as bright as a full moon.
“Yes,” Aiden clarified with certainty. “We do!”
Buck leaned back and sighed, turning his head to look out at the dark skies gathering beyond the windows of the office.
“The storm will soon be here,” he commented.
“You came here to talk about the weather!” Aiden raged. “Buck, we’re dealing with a very serious threat! I think we need some outside assistance. I’ll call the FBI, tell them where I’ve been and why, I’m sure they will take this seriously if we just —”
“It’s Sheriff Fern,” Buck interrupted him coolly, still gazing out of the window. “And you’ll call no one. In Avalon, when trouble comes we circle the wagons and deal with it ourselves.”
“How can you possibly deal with hired killers?” Aiden demanded. Buck slowly turned his head to look back at him, a knowing smile pulling on his lips.
“I’ve kept this town safe for more years than you’ve been alive. Never needing no outside help to do it.”
“Look, Sheriff…” Aiden didn’t dare make the mistake of assuming they were familiar and calling him Buck again.
“I’ll protect you, Connelly. You and that whore. You have my word and that’s as strong as oak.”
Aiden thoughtfully bit his lip. Buck Fern’s weathered face waited for a response.
“I can’t trust you to protect her,” Aiden said, his voice low. “You’d
have had her die for a crime she didn’t commit. Why would you protect her now?”
Buck shifted his weight in his chair.
“My allegiance is to Avalon.”
“So what, because she lives here she gets a free pass? We both know that’s not how it works so what’s changed?”
“She came back.” Buck lightly lifted his shoulders. “She returned to Avalon even though she knew the whole town hated her. She came back because she can’t resist the pull of this town, which makes her a true child of Avalon.”
Aiden wanted to point out that he was the actual reason Brandy had returned. She felt no allegiance to the town, only to him. But he kept his mouth shut. If Buck needed to believe that Brandy loved Avalon as much as he did in order to protect her then so be it.
“Can you even…” Aiden lowered his head apologetically, “protect us?” Buck Fern wore his long years in lines upon his face. He’d surely be no match for young, athletic hired guns.
Buck raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Do I look old, Connelly? Do I look tired?” he asked angrily. Aiden was immediately regretting questioning the old sheriff.
“I’m sorry, I—”
“Because I am old. And I am tired. But I’ll die defending this town. Do you think those guys who hung the noose at your house care about who they work for? They just go where the next pay check is. I’ll protect you, Connelly. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“So do you think I should be afraid?” Aiden asked nervously. “Do you think that whoever they are, they intend to harm us?”
Buck stood up and replaced his Stetson upon his head. He looked again out of the window and at the heavy sky.
“Pretty sure that storm will hit tonight,” he noted. “Might do some good to finally clear the air.”
Offering Aiden just a brief nod, Buck strutted out of the office as, outside, the first rumbles of thunder began to echo across Avalon.
*
Javier watched the small ember burn at the end of the cigarette which dangled precariously from the lips of the man sat across from him.
“So,” the man demanded, his eyes burning with fiery madness. “Is that everything?”