Second To Cry. Carys Jones

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.

      He didn’t have to wait long.

      If ever the word grandiose required a visual aide, it could be found in the form of Samuel Fern’s ranch. The impressive building suddenly appeared before him, as hugely imposing as a castle.

      The ranch was completely surrounded by tall brick walls, atop of which appeared to be electrified fencing. The only way in was via the dense gates which the road led to. But Aiden couldn’t see through the walls or gates, he could just make out behind them the upper parts of the ranch, which included turrets and various balconies. It certainly looked unbelievably impressive; Edmond’s home would seem like a trailer in comparison.

      Slowing his car, Aiden stopped at the gates and wondered what to do next. The security was like that of a fort. Two CCTV cameras swirled to look at his car as he tried to remember how to gain access.

      ‘There’s a brick,’ the secretary had said, ‘just by the gates. It’s concealed, but if you look hard enough