Second to Cry (4 page)

Past experience had taught Aiden that a richer a man was, the more elusive he could be.

‘I’m not sure. Probably best to ask Betty as she would have dealt with him in the past I’m sure, through her church group for charity events.’

Edmond pressed down on the intercom on his desk and it crackled to life.

‘Betty?’

There was a brief pause and then a response came, marred by static. Aiden struggled to see the need for the intercom. They would be better served by either installing an internal phone system or by physically leaving the office and walking the minimal distance to the communal waiting area and Betty’s desk.

‘Yes, Mr Copes?’ Betty asked, her voice further aged by the poor line of communication.

‘Could you bring us two coffees and we also need to pick your brains about something.’

‘I’ll be right in.’ Betty confirmed.

Edmond would no longer ask whether Aiden wanted a coffee. Working just the two of them, in such close proximity, he had soon picked up on his preferences and now they each intuitively knew when the other would be wanting some sort of beverage or snack.

Aiden knew that if he was popping out to lunch, Edmond would also be most grateful if he picked up something sweet from the bakery across the street. And though Betty would also protest an offered Danish or doughnut, eventually she would concede and agree to eat one, simply, she stated ‘to stop it going to waste.’

There was a nice atmosphere within the office. In there at least Aiden felt accepted and a part of something. He wished those feelings extended to the rest of Avalon, he just had to keep hoping that in time they would.

Barely five minutes had passed when Betty entered with a small tray, upon which were balanced two steaming mugs of coffee.

‘Thank you, Betty,’ Edmond beamed, suddenly wishing he’d requested a snack to accompany his drink.

‘Yeah, thanks, Betty,’ Aiden said as he got up and took his mug from the tray.

‘What did you want to ask me about?’ Betty enquired after placing Edmond’s mug down, now holding the empty tray by her chest like a shield.

‘Samuel Fern,’ Edmond told her bluntly.

‘Oh?’

‘How easy is he to get hold of? I mean, does he accept visitors? Do people just make appointments to go out to the ranch?’

‘Oh, um…’ Betty pondered for a moment. ‘I’ve only dealt with him through my church group,’

Edmond glanced over at Aiden when she said this, with an expression which said, ‘see, I knew she’d know something’.

Aiden had to admit that Betty was always an invaluable source of local knowledge. If ever Edmond didn’t know something, which was rare, Betty almost definitely would. Together, Aiden wagered there was nothing the pair of them didn’t know about Avalon and its residents.

‘We never went out to his ranch; it was more to invite him to functions. I think he had a secretary who dealt with that sort of thing. I will try and find her number if you like?’

‘Yes thanks, Betty, that would be helpful.’

‘Does his secretary live out at the ranch?’ Betty had made to leave, but Aiden called her back with his question.

‘I believe so, yes.’

‘Okay, thanks.’ Aiden wasn’t sure why it mattered where Samuel Fern’s secretary was based, he was just trying to put together a clearer picture of the man.

Betty left and Edmond surreptitiously made his coffee Irish which Aiden pretended not to notice.

‘So you’ve never had to deal with Samuel Fern before?’

‘Only his will,’ Edmond reminded him. ‘And he came here to do that. I see him on the golf course and we chat. He seems a nice guy, much nicer than his brother.’

‘Okay,’ Aiden nodded.

‘Although,’ Edmond now lowered his voice, ‘if anything happens with this paternity case, he will need to re-write his will.’

‘Oh. So is his wife due to get everything?’

‘The lot.’ Edmond said dramatically. ‘Her and the sons, obviously.’

‘Yeah.’

Aiden wondered about this. How could a man go from being so certain about a woman that he would leave everything to her, to wanting a paternity test to prove he had fathered her child? It seemed extreme to change your opinion of someone so drastically.

The intercom on Edmond’s desk suddenly came to life again, with Betty’s voice echoing out of it.

‘I’ve got that number for you,’ she informed them.

If the number had been for Edmond, Betty would have dutifully brought it in, however, since it was Aiden’s case, he would be expected to go and collect it from her. Betty still regarded Aiden as a new employee and, in her eyes, had yet to earn the level of respect she reserved for Edmond and previously his late partner.

‘I’ll go get it,’ Aiden said, momentarily excusing himself.

The air in the main waiting area felt fresh and light which made Aiden assume that Betty must have had the door open for some time. Outside the sun was still shining brightly so he couldn’t blame her for wanting to capture some of that beautiful weather indoors.

‘Samuel Fern’s secretary is called Rita Moore,’ Betty told him, handing him a Post-it note upon which she had written a number in her delicate cursive writing.

‘Right, okay.’

‘So if you call her, she can arrange an appointment for you to go and see him.’

‘That’s great. Thank you, Betty.’

Aiden glanced down at the number, thinking it strange for a man who had retired to need a secretary. Especially considering he’d been working in the oil industry, he was hardly a celebrity. It just seemed a bit extravagant, but perhaps Samuel Fern was. Aiden would soon find out first hand just what the man was like.

The office seemed stuffy after the freshness of the waiting area so Aiden opened the window closest to his desk. The air was warm and peaceful as it filtered in. Not like his old office, where you couldn’t open the windows as the sound of the traffic roaring past the building was so loud it would prevent you from working.

Edmond was now engaged with his own work so Aiden didn’t disturb him with further idle chat. Instead he dialled the number Betty had just given him. After three rings someone picked up.

‘Good morning, the estate of Samuel Fern, how may I help?’ came a sharp female voice.

‘Oh, good morning. My name is Aiden Connelly, I’m hoping to make an appointment to see Mr Fern—’ Aiden went to give further details but the lady on the phone cut him short.

‘I’m sorry but Mr Fern isn’t taking appointments at the moment.’

‘Ma’am, I’m his lawyer,’ Aiden explained.

‘What did you say your name was?’

‘Aiden Connelly.’

‘Just one moment, Mr Connelly.’

Aiden waited patiently as he was put on hold and made to listen to what sounded like whalesounds. He presumed it was meant to have a calming effect but it just left him feeling annoyed.

After several minutes the whale song ceased and Samuel Fern’s secretary returned, her voice noticeably softer than when she had originally answered.

‘Mr Connelly, Mr Fern would like to see you as soon as possible. Are you free this afternoon to come by the ranch?’

Aiden felt caught off guard at the immediacy of the meeting. He figured he’d get to see Samuel Fern later in the week, not so swiftly as thesame day.

‘Let me check my diary,’ he stalled for time as he checked his online diary, knowing full well that he was completely free. In fact the only thing in his diary was a reminder to collect milk on his way home.

‘If I move some things around, I could come by the ranch at about 3?’ Even though Aiden wasn’t busy he still wanted people to think he was, as they often associated how busy someone was with how competent they were at their job. At least that had been the mentality within his last workplace and it had stuck with him. If people perceived his schedule to be pretty clear it might make them lose confidence in him.

‘One moment,’ this time Samuel’s secretary forgot to press hold to subject Aiden to the whales so instead he could hear whispered voices speaking away from the phone. Though he couldn’t distinguish what they were saying, he could hear a man and woman speaking. The man must have been Samuel.

There was a flurry of movement near the phone and then the female voice returned.

‘Three o clock is perfect. Do you require directions to the ranch, Mr Connelly?’

‘Yes, please.’

Aiden had no idea where the ranch could be located. On his travels he had spotted some expensive-looking properties just beyond Avalon so perhaps it was one of those. The houses within the town were more modest.

It was Aiden’s hope that one day he might be able to buy a large property just outside of town, one with a swimming pool. Meegan would love that.

Edmond’s home was impressive, with a pool and a tennis court. Aiden and Isla were often invited round for functions and it was also a reminder to Aiden of what he was working for, to see such a beautiful home. More than anything it was the amount of land a home could be set upon which impressed Aiden. Within the city space was such a commodity but out here, on the open plains of America, you could quite easily acquire acres of land and then do with it as you wished.

Upon listening to the directions to Samuel Fern’s ranch, Aiden sensed that it was actually located quite close to Edmond’s home which would explain why the two men had become acquaintances on the golf course which they both frequented.

‘So when you heading out to see Sam Fern?’ Edmond asked after Aiden had concluded his phone call.

‘This afternoon.’

‘So soon! Well, like my mother used to say, there is no time like the present.’

‘Yeah, exactly. I think he lives out near your place.’

‘Now you mention it, I don’t think he lives too far from me. No doubt his place will be a palace compared to mine though!’

‘You’ve never been to the ranch?’

‘Nope, never had any cause to. Samuel Fern goes to parties, he doesn’t throw them.’

‘Got ya.’ Aiden nodded. ‘Well, I’d best pop out and get some lunch. Can I get you anything?’

‘Only if you’re headed to the bakery,’ Edmond said, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of lunch. ‘I’d hate to put you out.’

*

Isla plunged her hands into the warm soapy water and began scrubbing furiously at the casserole dish. At the kitchen table Meegan was happily playing with the remains of her own dinner, her bright laughter slightly stifled by the radio which was on. They were currently playing one of Isla’s favourite songs from when she’d been growing up and she hummed along to the melody slightly as she scrubbed.

The casserole dish was free of all previous grime and she began rinsing it when she looked up and saw the arm of the mailbox standing erect. Isla froze with the dish in her hand as the song continued playing but she was no longer humming. She squinted out at her mailbox. The arm was most definitely up.

‘Dammit,’ she muttered to herself as she began to dry her hands. All she could think of was that previous note. She’d managed to brush it off as some strange occurrence, but if there was another note in her mailbox it wouldn’t be so easy to dismiss.

‘Mummy’s just going to get the mail,’ she told Meegan, who didn’t even look up at her. ‘You be a good little girl, okay?’

Isla jogged out in to the afternoon sunshine and hurried over to the mailbox. The front door creaked in protest as she pulled it open. Peering in to the relative darkness she saw a crisp, white envelope and she felt her heart sink. Silently she removed the envelope, unmarked once more. Numbly she opened it and read the note contained inside. There was the same crude lettering, cut out from magazines and newspapers, but this time the message was different:

Avalon Doesn’t Need You.

Isla blinked several times as she looked over the note, shaking her head slightly. In her mind she was screaming that it was a threat but, externally, she tried to remain calm. She looked back up at the house where Meegan was obliviously playing with her dinner. How long had the note even been there? Had whoever dropped it off been watching her?

Taking a deep breath, Isla tore the note in to pieces, refusing to give whoever was sending them the satisfaction of upsetting her.

*

At half past two Aiden left the office and headed out towards Samuel Fern’s ranch just beyond the borders of Avalon.

The sky was as empty and vast as the ocean, letting the sun bore down unopposed on the residents of the small town and even in his car, with the air conditioning on full blast, Aiden could feel the heat from outside, pressing in at his windows.

He’d learnt early on that a formal suit wasn’t the best attire during the summer months so today he was dressed more casually than he ever would have been in the city; he was wearing cargo pants with a polo shirt. There was something bizarrely liberating about being able to go to work in weekend wear.

‘Continue for 2.3 miles,’ Aiden’s satellite navigation system told him after he had inputted the coordinates for Samuel’s ranch.

‘You can’t miss it,’ the secretary had assured him. ‘You travel down a road for almost three miles, Fern Lane, and then the ranch is at the end of it.’

So Samuel Fern had his own road, that was certainly impressive and a first for Aiden.

The radio played more country music. The current song was about a couple who only seem to get along after a couple of drinks. Aiden found himself growing increasingly fond of country music.

Soon enough, he was turning on to Fern Lane. Even the sign for the road looked expensive. It was clearly put up privately as it was much fancier than the generic road signs.

Around the road the land was dry and desolate, much like most of the surrounding territories. Avalon could be extremely hot and dry which was reflected by the lack of green vegetation. That was perhaps the one thing Aiden truly missed; the abundance of fresh nature. He missed seeing trees, forests and fields full of tall, green grass. Whenever he expressed this feeling to Isla, she’d just roll her eyes at him.

‘We should have moved to Maine,’ she’d tell him. ‘I’d have been happier there.’

Aiden continued down Fern Lane, keeping his eyes eagerly pinned ahead, waiting for the ranch to come in to view.