by Carys Jones
It was strange being back at the church. Aiden had tried to avoid the place of worship ever since Father West had been unceremoniously removed from his position and placed in prison. Even though the outer walls had been fiercely scrubbed clean, if you looked close enough you could still see the faint shadow of the cruel words which had been pasted across the building.
Aiden had showed Avalon that even the holy could fall. He wasn’t sure if the town would ever forgive him for that. At Edmond’s funeral he sat on the pew behind the Copes clan. If anyone wondered where Isla was, they were too polite to ask. He was certain he’d have to face their questions at some point, when the day wasn’t reserved for remembrance.
“I can come if you want,” Isla had told him over the phone. He could hear the pitch in her tone which meant that she didn’t want to come.
“It’s okay,” Aiden insisted. “Better I do it alone really.”
“I was terribly fond of Edmond,” Isla insisted.
“Everyone was.”
But Isla was now in Chicago. Aiden didn’t want to pull her back to Avalon when he knew she’d tried so hard to escape.
As Aiden watched the array of baggage slowly drop down on to the revolving terminal, he rubbed his throbbing temple. He was exhausted. He hadn’t slept in days, which perhaps explained why his life currently felt like a waking dream.
He remembered the whispers at the funeral and the turned heads. He caught snippets of what was being said. He heard Father West’s name against his own. It seemed that people blamed Aiden for the popular priest being forced to leave. West was still awaiting trial. Aiden already knew that a man of the cloth wouldn’t die for his crime, at least not in the South.
Aiden was so lost to his thoughts that he almost missed his own holdall sliding round. He snapped out of his fatigue just in time to reach out and grab it before it was sent to commence another rotation.
*
“I’m actually coming back to Chicago in a few days,” Isla gripped the phone tightly in her hands as Aiden declared his impending visit. Biting her lip she glanced nervously around her new apartment. There were unopened boxes everywhere and the space was considerably smaller than she was used to. But when she looked out of the large windows she saw her beloved city and she knew that she was home. Meegan was sat on her playmat, eagerly engaged with some building blocks.
“Oh, how come?” Isla forced herself to sound amicable. Aiden was free to visit the city as and when he liked but she wasn’t sure she was ready to face him, not yet. The pain of the dissolution of their marriage was still so open and raw; if she saw him it would be like pouring lemon juice upon the wound, bitter and painful.
“For work,” Aiden had sighed.
“You’re back to work already?” This had surprised Isla. She moved closer to the window and watched the people moving on the sidewalk below. From her vantage point they looked like ants.
“It’s to do with the Greensburg case.”
“Oh.”
“Listen,” she heard Aiden clear his throat awkwardly. “I know it’s early days and we don’t have anything formal set up yet. But when I’m there, could I see her?”
Isla turned and looked back at her daughter, blissfully playing. She held a bright-red brick in her dumpy little hands which she was trying to force onto a blue brick which was the wrong size. No matter how hard she tried, they wouldn’t fit together.
“Of course,” Isla lowered herself to perch on the edge of a box. “It’s just…”
“It will be weird to see me?”
“Yes,” Isla laughed slightly. “And I don’t want it to be.”
“Some things are inevitable.” Aiden sounded so distant when he spoke, so lost.
“Aid, are you all right? I mean, I know how hard Edmond’s death must have been for you.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Aiden replied sharply.
“Okay,” Isla cleared her throat nervously. “Okay, sure. Let’s sort out a time for you to see Meegs.”
*
Meegan was waiting for him in a small park located in the centre of the city. She was wearing a blue and white striped dress and her hair was held in bunches on either side of her head. She looked adorable. She didn’t see Aiden approaching her; she was too busy playing in the sandbox, focusing on the bucket she was trying to fill with all the amber grains.
When Aiden saw her, he froze. He still smelled of the stale air which circulated the aeroplane. He’d had time to check into his hotel and drop off his luggage but nothing else. He wished he’d had chance to shower. He wasn’t concerned about the odour of travel; it was everything else that clung to him which bothered Aiden. He feared that he carried death with him. Back in Avalon the air reeked of it. And now he was in the city investigating yet another death. Aiden was starting to feel detached from the world of the living.
“Aid, hey!” Isla looked up from the magazine she was reading. She was sat on a nearby bench keeping an eye on their daughter. Already she was transformed, wearing designer jeans, a trendy top and a mask of make-up which seemed excessive for an afternoon in a park.
Aiden had to quickly thaw and move towards them as he’d been spotted.
“Hi,” he greeted his estranged wife awkwardly. They briefly hugged and he went to kiss her on the cheek but she moved out of reach, blushing slightly.
“Daddy!” Meegan clambered onto her feet and began to try and get out of the sandbox. She held her little arms outstretched towards her father, her face aglow with pure delight.
“Hey, princess,” Aiden scooped her out of the sand and held her in his arms. His fears about the lingering shadow of death surrounding him instantly dispersed when forced to compete with his overwhelming love for his little girl.
“Daddy!” Meegan leaned her head against his chest and nuzzled against him.
“I missed you,” Aiden kissed her forehead and held her tightly. “Have you been a good girl while I’ve been gone?”
“The best!” Meegan confirmed, still pressing herself against him.
“She’s been doing really well,” Isla noted politely as she settled back down on the bench and returned to her magazine.
“Do you like being back in the city?” Aiden looked down at the precious bundle in his arms as he spoke.
“Yes!” she replied excitedly. “We went to the toy store and the park!”
“Sounds good,” Aiden felt slightly pained that Meegan didn’t seem to be missing Avalon. Did she not identify with the town as home?
“I was thinking that the next time I’m in the city we could catch a football game,” Aiden told her.
“Football!” Meegan began to squirm in his arms to be released so he lowered her back into the sandbox. She sat down beside her pail and tilted her head slightly to the left.
“We go football?”
“Yes,” Aiden sat on the edge of the sandbox and smiled at her. “Chicago has a great team we can go and support.”
“Football!” Meegan raised her arms up in delight, pretending she was waving one of her beloved foam fingers. Behind them, on the bench, Isla rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, I’ll take you to their next game,” Aiden smiled but sadness caused his shoulders to sag. He liked attending the Avalon Angels games. When you were there you got a real sense of community. It wouldn’t be the same at a bigger game, it would feel more impersonal.
“I was hoping the football thing might die out,” Isla noted a little sourly.
“She loves going,” Aiden turned to look back at her. “We have to keep up with the things that she loves. We owe that to her.”
*
It was just before three when Aiden approached the small burger bar he used to frequent as a college student. He thrust his hands into his trouser pockets and waited. Meegan had wailed when he left the park after their two hours together. It was a shrill, piercing sound which tore through him. He kept promising that he’d be back again soon but she didn’t understand, how could she? She was just a lit
tle girl, she shouldn’t have to comprehend grown-up issues.
Walking away from them had felt strange. Aiden felt like bit by bit he was losing his identity. He was no longer a husband. He was still a father but not all the time as he used to be. He could now walk away from it all. He was a lawyer but even that label struggled to fit. He now owned Copes and May but how was he supposed to run it without Edmond’s guidance?
“Wow, Connelly, you’ve barely changed.” Aiden snapped back into the moment as Guy Chambers approached him. He was wearing dark denim jeans, a crisp white shirt and had a pair of designer Aviators pulled up in his golden hair even though the sun hadn’t even shone that day.
“Guy, hey,” Aiden smiled at him as they shook hands. Guy’s handshake was strong and firm. His hands were as golden as his hair. He looked remarkably well. It was evident that beneath his shirt he had a strong physique. Aiden felt small and pale against him.
“Thanks for meeting me,” Aiden told him sincerely.
“Well, today is one of those rare occurrences for me; a day off.”
“Do you not get many of those?” Aiden asked as they entered the burger bar.
“Not really, no.” Guy shook his golden mane.
“So where did you get the tan?”
Guy looked at his sun-kissed hands and laughed.
“I was out in California last month working on a case.” They sat down and he removed his sunglasses with a flourish.
Aiden wasn’t surprised that Guy had been in California, there was something extremely West Coast about his appearance. He looked healthy, athletic and full of life. Aiden was pale with intense eyes, the look of someone who rarely saw daylight.
“California doesn’t sound too bad,” Aiden said jovially.
“It wasn’t,” Guy agreed, smiling lightly. “I’m lucky that I love my job. I get to travel the country, see some amazing places.”
“Glad you’re liking it.”
“Yeah,” Guy levelled his gaze upon Aiden. “I’m happy with my choices, with how my life has turned out.”
“Good for you,” Aiden stiffened slightly. He didn’t want to discuss their history. He didn’t want to bring up Claire and all that Guy had forsaken for his current life. Aiden hadn’t come there to cast judgement; he’d merely come seeking answers.
“Shall we cut the chit-chat?” Guy suddenly asked briskly.
“Sure,” Aiden replied uneasily.
“I’ve found out the truth about your friend,” Guy lowered his voice. “I’m just not sure you’ll want to hear it.”
*
Buck Fern pulled on the door to the offices of Copes and May. It didn’t budge, it was locked. Scowling, he drew up closer to the glass and peered inside. The waiting area was concealed in darkness and Betty was absent from her usual position behind the desk.
Buck briefly removed his Stetson and ran a hand through his thin hair. Clyde White had been adamant that Aiden Connelly had inherited the solicitors from Edmond prior to his passing. And Clyde was rarely misinformed. Buck tried the door once more. It was definitely locked. Wherever Aiden Connelly was, he wasn’t at work.
For a moment Buck considered the possibility that he’d finally achieved his goal and had successfully run Aiden out of town. Had the responsibility of taking on Copes and May single-handed been too much for him?
But if that was the case and Aiden had finally left Avalon, why didn’t Buck feel better about it? Concerned, he shoved a handful of tobacco into his mouth and began to thoughtfully chew on it as he wandered back down the street.
*
“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 distr
aught 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.