danger? How did he never think to question his death before? If his old high school friends from Greensburg hadn’t sought him out in Avalon, he’d have gone on thinking Justin had died in a motorcycle accident. Aiden had thought that searching for the truth might liberate his guilt, but it only gnawed within him with even more fervor. Because the question which troubled him most was: how could he bear the thought that Justin’s killer had been allowed to endure?
The Chances You Take
The only sounds in the office were the gentle whirring of the air conditioning system and the distant tapping of Betty’s fingers maneuvering across her keyboard. In the relative silence Aiden stared at his computer screen. His inbox was unusually empty. It seemed that Clyde White had swiftly managed to spread the news of Brandy’s return to Avalon and now the town were keeping their distance from Aiden.
Groaning, he refreshed the page. He had enough open cases to keep him busy; some work updating wills and settling property disputes. But he’d feared that the work would suddenly dry up. It was as if overnight Avalon suddenly ceased to have legal issues.
To add to Aiden’s tension, Betty had been uncharacteristically late that morning. When he pulled up outside the office and stepped out into the bright morning sun he’d actually needed to do a double-take of the vacant entrance. Betty was nowhere to be seen. Aiden opened up, bought the usual breakfast order from across the street and then hid in the comfort of his own office. He was about to call Betty to check she was alright when he heard the soft chime of the main door announcing her entrance.
That had been forty minutes ago. Aiden had yet to venture in to the office and face Betty. He wasn’t sure he could handle the look of disappointment she’d doubtlessly be wearing when he addressed her.
But his plan to remain in his office was running out of fuel. With no incoming emails to respond to, he’d be forced to head out and attend to tasks around town. He had a pile of papers that needed dropping off at the town hall along with a couple of documents that required additional signatures.
“Come on,” Aiden refreshed his inbox again, willing someone, anyone to contact him. He was about to accept defeat and go out to see Betty when his cell phone began to whir upon the desk, spinning itself in circles.
Aiden grabbed the device with a sense of relief but bristled when he noticed that the incoming call was from a blocked number.
“Aiden Connelly speaking,” he greeted the unknown caller with slight trepidation in his voice. What if it was a crank call from a disgruntled resident? Was he now going to be subjected to harassment by those still loyal to Brandon who continued to wrongly blame Brandy for his death?
“Aiden, hey, it’s Guy.”
Aiden froze in surprise.
“Guy Chambers,” Guy declared confidently. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already?” His tone was jovial, friendly even.
Aiden shook himself out of his startled stupor and cleared his throat.
“No, course not,” he replied politely. “I just didn’t expect to hear from you again. How are things?”
“Things are good!” And from the sound of his voice they truly were. Aiden could almost feel the heat radiating from the smile Guy was wearing coming down the line and bursting out into the office.
“I’m glad.” Aiden repositioned himself in his chair so that he was sitting straighter.
“Listen, Connelly, I’m going to get straight to it.” Typical Guy, not wanting to waste time on small talk.
“Okay…” Aiden nodded, feeling his shoulders tighten in apprehension. What exactly were they getting to? Why had Guy even called him?
“Last time we spoke, you asked me for more information on your friend Justin’s case.”
“Which you said you couldn’t give,” Aiden replied bluntly.
“Right.” On the other end of the line Guy cleared his throat. Was he nervous? “But say something fell in to my lap and I wanted to throw you a bone?”
“I’m not a dog.” Aiden ran a hand through his hair and glanced briefly at his inbox. Still no emails.
“Jeeze, Connelly, I’m trying to do you a solid here,” Guy’s voice boomed in to his ear. “Quit always being so tightly wound! I have a name and a location, you want it?”
“Why would you give me this?” Aiden wondered suspiciously. “Previously you told me you’d already said too much. Now you want to give me names? What’s changed?”
“The case has been tabled,” Guy said quickly, the words almost blended into one another.
“It has? But it had been open for ten years, why table it now?”
“The Bureau doesn’t have the manpower to keep chasing ghosts,” Guy said flippantly. “But I figured what is old news to us might be useful to you.”
“And you won’t lose your job by telling me this?”
“No!” 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
