Second to Cry (2 page)

Aiden found one article which contained a photograph of Sam Fern at the opening of the hospital ward where his wife was stood proudly beside him.

Had Aiden not known the connection between Sam and Buck Fern, he would still have made the assumption as soon as he saw him, as the millionaire looked almost identical to Avalon’s sheriff, aside from the fact that he was perhaps a bit taller in stature and had more hair, which may or may not have been his own. The heritage of said hair would be left to conjecture.

In the photograph Sam Fern was smiling broadly, but on such a flint-hard face the smile lacked warmth. His wife, however, was radiant beside him. With white-blonde hair and a ruby-red smile, she stole the picture from him, instantly drawing all eyes upon her.

It was easy to see why Mrs Samuel Fern had been in
Playboy
. She had the voluptuous figure and the flirtatious smile of a modern-day Marilyn Monroe. Her hands, adorned with fake nails, were wrapped around her husband as he was poised to cut an opening ribbon. She looked happy, they both did.

Aiden read the by-line to the picture;

Samuel Fern and his wife Deena, pictured outside the opening of the newly opened Fern’s Children Ward.

So her name was Deena. Good to know. Aiden added her name to his list of notes. He considered Googling her but hesitated, not sure he wanted a list of
Playboy
websites appearing in his Internet history at work. He would just take Edmond’s word for it for the time being that she had been Miss September at some point.

A sudden thought entered Aiden’s head and made him uneasy. No, it wasn’t a thought. It was a face. And it belonged to Brandy White. The woman whose life he had saved when he had uncovered the true killer of her husband.

Something stabbed at his heart. A pang of longing and for perhaps the hundredth time since she left he found himself wondering what Brandy was doing at that exact moment. Was she enjoying Chicago or did she miss the tranquillity of Avalon? He could picture her, working in the beauty parlour, smiling warmly at customers as they came in. They must love her, with her Southern charm and natural warmth.

Aiden found himself envying those customers because they got to see her and bask in her light. He was just left with memories and regrets and…

No. Aiden refused to wallow in his thoughts about Brandy. He needed to focus on the present. On his family. And on the case which he was currently working on. Brandy White was an old client, nothing more.

‘Which year did you say Mrs Fern was in
Playboy
?’ he asked Edmond, who upon hearing the question immediately lifted his ample frame up out of his chair and almost bounced over to where Aiden was sitting.

‘Ooh, I can’t remember for sure,’ Edmond said. ‘2002, 2003 maybe. We should do a search.’

He prompted Aiden as he stood over him and who was Aiden to ignore his boss? Besides, he would welcome the distraction and it would please the old man to look at some racy pictures all in the name of work.

‘Wait!’ Edmond said suddenly as Aiden was about to hit search on Deena, Miss September Playboy.

‘We should send Betty out on some errand. Don’t want the poor girl walking in here and seeing something too saucy for her mature sensibilities to handle.’

‘Okay,’ Aiden agreed though he doubted Betty either looked at or cared what was displayed on their computer screens. She was more concerned about the contents of their coffee cups.

‘I’ll send her out for some doughnuts,’ Edmond declared proudly.

‘Good idea.’

‘Just don’t mention this to Mrs Copes.’

Aiden raised his eyebrows.

‘The doughnuts, I mean. She’s still got me on this diet.’

‘Right, gotcha.’ Aiden nodded, knowing that if he had a dime for every forbidden doughnut he’d had to conceal from Edmond’s wife he would be as rich as Samuel Fern.

*

Isla walked past the kitchen window but stopped abruptly when something caught her eye. At the end of the drive the arm of the mailbox had been lifted to signal the arrival of a new letter, which was strange since the mailman had already been and delivered the usual bundle of unwelcome bills. Frowning, Isla wandered down the driveway and opened the rusted front door of the mailbox and, sure enough, there was a single white envelope neatly placed inside. Reaching in, Isla picked it up and, turning it over in her hands, she was surprised to see that the front was blank, it wasn’t addressed to anyone specific.

Assuming it was junk mail, Isla was about to rip it in half when she instead tore the envelope open and removed the note from within. As she read it, she felt the air around her cool a few degrees and goose bumps broke out along her bare arms.

Within the envelope was a single piece of crisp white paper which when unfolded contained one single word. But instead of being written, the letters had been crudely cut from other sources and glued to the paper. Isla shivered as she read the word:

Leave.

It was a simple, succinct directive. Isla glanced around but the street was clear. Looking at the note in her hand she felt with the cold, distinct sense of dread that it was most definitely intended for her.

Isla refused to read the note again. With a shudder she promptly tore the piece of paper in half and shoved it into the garbage can before walking back in to the house.

*

Aiden still savoured his short commute home from work. The small town was the backdrop to his journey as he drove through the now-familiar streets. Traffic was always sparse, even at what would be considered peak times. He remembered all too well the complete gridlock which he encountered within the city on a daily basis and he didn’t miss it. There was something satisfying about being able to travel unhindered. It left him feeling less stressed when he walked through the door and greeted his family at the end of the day. There was no built-up tension souring his mood; he was a free man.

‘I’m home,’ Aiden called as he pushed open the door to his modest home with his free hand, his other clutching his briefcase.

The small house he had acquired for the move to Avalon was still in need of a complete overhaul. His wife, Isla, was supposed to be arranging things for the renovation but so far nothing had been done which did annoy Aiden, but he chose to not let any negative feelings taint his good mood.

‘I said, I’m home,’ he repeated his initial greeting when he was met with only silence. Stepping in to the kitchen he noticed how oddly quiet the house was. Tea was not simmering on the stove as it usually would have been, well in the early days at least. Recently Isla had taken a more relaxed approach to her traditional housewife duties.

‘Isla, hon?’ he called through the house, raising his voice so that he could be heard throughout the small structure.

‘We’re in the garden,’ came a faint reply, carried on the early evening breeze.

Aiden placed down his briefcase and loosened his tie before strolling through the house, out through the back patio doors and to the welcoming sight of his young daughter, Meegan, giggling merrily as she was pushed in a small swing.

‘Sorry, I know I’m running late,’ Isla immediately apologized from her position behind the swing. In between pushes she nudged a loose strand of hair back behind her ear, and with the dropping sun glowing behind her she looked stunning. Aiden was almost taken aback at just how beautiful his wife was.

‘Even after all these months I struggle to get used to you coming home at a reasonable hour,’ she explained, still pushing Meegan in the swing even though the little girl now had other ideas.

‘Daddy, Daddy!’ she cried joyfully when she saw Aiden come in to the garden, extending her miniature arms out towards him.

‘Hi, Princess!’ Aiden came and scooped her up out of her swing seat and lifted her into his arms, spinning her around as he did so, which made her sequel with delight.

‘Daddy!’ Meegan clapped her hands happily before planting a wet kiss on Aiden’s nose.

‘I missed you today,’ he confided in his daughter who looked up at him with big, open, innocent eyes.

‘I watched
Princess and the Frog
,’ Meegan whispered in response, almost shamefully as though she had been too busy having fun to miss her father.

‘Did you enjoy it?’ Aiden already knew the answer; she would have loved it, as she had done the dozen or so other times she had watched it. It was currently her favourite movie.

‘I wish she’d stop watching it,’ Isla sighed, heading towards the house. She was wearing short denim hot pants which showed off her long, lean legs.

‘Why?’ Aiden asked, surprised by his wife’s lack of enthusiasm for the movie.

‘Princess films just set girls up to have unrealistic expectations of life.’

‘Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine today?’ he joked.

‘I’m serious, Aid. I don’t want Meegan to grow up to be one of those girls who wastes their lives waiting for Prince Charming to show up.’

‘So you want her to be like you and just settle for the first hot guy who comes along?’ Aiden teased.

‘I didn’t mean that,’ Isla glanced at him sheepishly. ‘I’m just having a bad day,’ she admitted sadly.

They were now in the kitchen and Aiden settled at the table, placing Meegan within her high chair while Isla began boiling some pasta in a pan.

‘Can I help?’ he offered.

‘No, I’ve got it.’

‘So why the bad day?’ Aiden asked as he briefly went over to the fridge, retrieving not his usual sole beer, but also one for his wife. He handed it to her and she gratefully accepted it.

Isla considered mentioning the note but considered against it. It was probably nothing anyway.

‘I took Meegan to that toddlers’ group over at the church.’

‘Oh yeah, you mentioned you were going to try going there.’

‘But it was a complete joke,’ Isla said, shaking her head before taking a sip of beer.

‘Joke,’ Meegan echoed without any comprehension.

‘How so?’

‘Basically, everyone there still treats me as a pariah. After everything you’ve done for this God-awful town and still they cross the street to avoid me. It’s ridiculous.’

‘They just need time.’

‘Aid, I’ve given them time. And you’ve given them a crooked priest but still they want more! So I took Meegs to the stupid toddler group and everyone just ignored me. If she went over to play with their kids they picked their kids up and moved them. I swear to God, I almost slapped one of the stupid bitches!’

‘Language,’ Aiden berated his wife, but only lightly as he could see that she was pretty fired up about the situation.

‘I’m just sick of feeling like an outsider!’ Isla lamented, the text of the note still burning in her mind. She drank some more beer to calm herself.

‘I’m sorry it’s being so tough on you.’ And Aiden was sorry. The horrid feeling of guilt crept up his spine and pinched at the back of his neck. It was his fault they were here, his fault that Isla was so miserable.

‘Daddy, look!’ Meegan called for her father and then began to proudly blow bubbles. Aiden looked at her fondly, and then up at Isla who was now smiling at her daughter.

‘I guess she’s why I do it,’ Isla admitted. ‘It’s just so hard sometimes.’

‘I know.’ Aiden himself was still treated like an outcast who could potentially be harbouring the plague and he knew it wasn’t a nice feeling. For a town which outwardly seemed so loving and community based, the people could be very standoffish.

‘Anyway, how was your day?’ Isla changed the topic and continued to prepare dinner. She handed Meegan a bowl of baby food which the little girl promptly dunked both hands into.

‘Meegan!’

‘Don’t worry, I’ve got it,’ Aiden offered, already wetting a flannel to clean Meegan up. ‘My day was good,’ he spoke as he mopped the contents of the bowel off Meegan’s little hands. ‘I started working on my next case.’

‘Oh?’

‘You’ll never guess who it’s for.’

‘Who?’ Isla asked, intrigued.

‘Buck Fern’s brother.’

‘You’re joking!’ Aiden’s wife scoffed as she stirred the pasta. ‘Is he as much of an ass as Buck is?’

‘I’ve not met him yet but by all accounts, yes, he is.’

‘Sounds like you’re in for a good time at work then.’

‘Yeah,’ Aiden sighed, picking up his beer now that Meegan was clean and finally eating her dinner rather than trying to wear it.

‘What’s the case?’

‘Paternity suit, I think.’

‘Ooh,’ Isla’s eyes lit up at the prospect of a scandal. ‘Those are always interesting.’

‘I guess.’

‘What’s the wife like? I’m guessing he’s married?’

‘Yeah he is. I’ve not met her yet either. Apparently she was Miss September one year for
Playboy
.’

This last piece of information got Isla’s full attention. She turned away from dinner to face Aiden, a wooden spoon held within her hands forcefully, like a weapon.

‘She’s a Playmate?’ there was something accusing in her tone and Aiden instantly wished he’d not revealed that particular piece of information to his wife.

‘She was. Years ago.’ Aiden tried to sound dismissive, didn’t want to dwell on the topic for too long. He’d forgotten that during college, Isla had applied to be a Playmate, seeing it as a fun way to make a load of extra cash. She hadn’t been accepted and it had remained a sore point for her ever since.

‘She must look cheap as that’s what they go for there.’ Isla said bitterly, watching Aiden intently, her eyes narrowed.

‘Exactly!’ Aiden agreed. ‘Can we eat yet?’

*

‘You used to hate paternity cases,’ Isla said suddenly as they lay in bed that night, bringing Aiden back from the brink of sleep. It was only just past ten but his body was now conditioned to early nights and early mornings and so it felt much later to him.

‘Huh?’ he asked sleepily.

‘Back in Chicago, you used to hate paternity cases. You said they made you feel uneasy because you worried about the kids involved. Which I thought was noble of you.’ From the tone of Isla’s voice it was clear that she’d been lying in bed thinking, rather than trying to sleep.

‘I did hate them, still do. They’re messy,’ Aiden admitted.