Second to Cry Page 10

  ‘I’m glad you made friends today,’ Aiden said to Isla but she didn’t respond. Quickly glancing over, he saw that she was also sleeping. It was going to be a quiet drive home.

  *

  Aiden knew where to find Deena Fern. He knew she would be in attendance at the next high school football game and he was determined to speak with her.

  However, once at the game, he struggled to locate the unmistakeable platinum glow of Deena’s hair amongst the crowd.

  ‘Football, football!’ Meegan screamed with delight from her perch on his knee. It was just the two of them that night as Isla had been feeling unwell and was complaining about ‘lady problems’ and so remained at home in bed.

  The stands were packed as per usual but Aiden spotted no trace of Mrs Fern.

  During half time he went down with Meegan to the food vendors, even though she hadn’t yet finished the popcorn he’d bought her before the game.

  ‘Popcorn?’ the toddler asked with surprised glee as they walked down from the stands to the kiosk area.

  ‘No, we’re just stretching our legs,’ Aiden told her.

  He ignored the tantrum which then ensued, deciding to just let Meegan tire herself out whilst he scanned the crowd. Amongst the brightly coloured jerseys there still wasn’t a trace of Deena Fern. Perhaps he had been wrong; maybe she had boycotted the game in an effort to evade him.

  Feeling disheartened, he returned to his seat and watched the rest of the game. Meegan was now too sleepy to enjoy it following her outburst regarding sweet snacks. The team losing only added to Aiden’s souring mood.

  Meegan was now sleeping soundly on Aiden’s shoulder as he headed for the parking lot. He’d all but lost hope when he spotted a black SUV. It looked almost identical to Deena Fern’s. He was about to fear it was nothing more than a coincidence when Deena appeared, Davis and Jude in tow, the former looking as tired as Meegan was.

  Deena saw Aiden and her eyes widened with fear. He noticed her body tense as she approached her car, her hands tightening their grip on her young sons.

  ‘Mr Connelly,’ she greeted him but it sounded more like a question, querying why he was lingering near her vehicle.

  ‘I need to talk to you,’ Aiden wasted no time in getting straight to the point.

  ‘No you don’t,’ Deena replied curtly, focusing on lifting a sleepy Davis into the car whilst Jude obediently climbed in himself.

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘We have nothing to talk about,’ Deena said sharply, turning to face him. Her tone was cold but her eyes were fearful.

  She then continued to strap her sons into her car. Davis fought at her, though not giving it his full conviction, he was too tired to put up much resistance. Jude sat and watched his mother, a look of concern on his young face.

  ‘I just want to help,’ Aiden said softly.

  Deena froze and then turned slowly to look at him, shutting the door to her car as she did so.

  ‘You want to help me?’ she didn’t sound convinced.

  ‘Yes, I do. Please, if we can just talk?’ Aiden pleaded.

  ‘You really are a sucker for blondes in distress,’ Deena swiped at him.

  ‘I don’t see many other people rallying to your aid so maybe you can quit being such a bitch,’ Aiden bit back. ‘I’m trying to be a good guy here.’

  ‘There’s no such thing as a good guy,’ Deena retorted with the sincerity of a woman who has been burnt by men on numerous occasions.

  ‘Let me help you, let’s talk,’ Aiden urged.

  ‘Fine,’ Deena sighed. ‘But not here, and not with the children. Meet me at Miller’s Café tomorrow at three.’

  Miller’s Café was located in the next town over and was renowned for serving a vast selection of teas. Its modest name belied its high-quality interior and menu. It was more of a boutique restaurant than a cafe, with a Parisian style which the French owners had brought with them when they relocated some twenty years previously.

  Aiden pulled into the parking lot beside the cafe and saw that Deena’s SUV was already there. It was parked at the back.

  Inside, the cafe was divided into small tables and separate booths, which offered patrons more privacy. Deena was settled in a booth, already sipping from what looked like an iced tea, though it was more lavish than its namesake, adorned with spirals of orange peel and a rim of sugar.

  Isla was fond of Miller’s Cafe; she felt it added a much-needed touch of class to Avalon, but they rarely got to go there as children weren’t welcome amongst the clientele. It was also beyond the price budget for most Avalon residents, undoubtedly the reason which made Deena select it for their meeting.

  ‘Hi,’ Aiden gave a brief greeting and slid into the booth across from her. Deena nodded politely and hailed a waiter over with her hand.

  ‘I’ll have an iced tea, thanks,’ Aiden told the waiter. ‘It’s a nice place.’ He looked around the cafe as he spoke.

  ‘It’s okay.’

  ‘Thank you for meeting me.’

  ‘Did I have a choice?’

  ‘Of course!’ Aiden said, offended.

  ‘I thought perhaps you intended to blackmail me over what I said.’

  ‘I’d never do that. Like I told you, I just want to help.’

  ‘How can you help me?’ Deena challenged. It was then that Aiden noticed how sore her eyes looked; they’d lost their usual sparkle.

  ‘Why did you say Davis’ father was a dead man? Are you frightened that Samuel will go after him? Will hurt him?’ Aiden asked, making sure to keep his voice low.

  Deena went to answer, but the waiter came over so she bit her tongue. Aiden gratefully took his iced tea and tried to resume the conversation.

  ‘I can’t help you if you don’t tell me anything. Do you fear your husband?’

  ‘Of course,’ Deena sighed. ‘All women in my position fear their husbands because their husbands hold all the cards.’

  ‘You mean money?’ Aiden clarified.

  ‘I guess so, yes.’

  ‘You don’t have money of your own? You were once a successful model.’

  ‘Model?’ Deena blushed at the word. ‘That’s kind of you to label me as such. And yes, I have money of my own but it pales in comparison to my husband’s wealth. I could put my sons through college, give them a normal life but Samuel can give them an extraordinary one and, like any parent, I just want what is best for my children.’

  ‘So you’re scared that if your husband learns the truth he will cut your children out.’

  ‘He will cut Davis out. That’s not what I want.’ Deena stirred her iced tea with its straw and looked troubled.

  ‘Who is the father?’ Aiden asked gently.

  ‘I’ve told you.’

  ‘No, you haven’t.’

  ‘Davis’ father is a dead man.’

  ‘Look, I know you are scared for his safety but I’m certain that no harm will come to him—’ Aiden began but Deena interrupted him.

  ‘You don’t understand, Mr Connelly. His father is a literal dead man.’

  ‘You mean he’s already dead?’ Aiden asked, shocked.

  ‘Yes,’ Deena looked down at the table, unable to meet his gaze.

  Aiden tried to make sense of what she was saying. Was there another senior millionaire in her life? Had he recently passed on?

  ‘Well, I’m sorry to hear that. Who was he?’

  ‘Does it matter?’ Deena sighed.

  ‘I don’t know, does it?’ Aiden turned the question onto her, himself wondering if the father’s identity still mattered now he knew he was deceased.

  ‘So you can understand my predicament,’ Deena said sadly. ‘If Samuel knows the truth, he disowns Davis, who is then left without a father, without anything, because his paternal father is dead.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘I need you to keep my secret, Mr Connelly. For my son’s sake. My family risks being torn apart and losing everything, I can’t have that happen.’

  ‘How did h
e die?’ Aiden asked, curious. ‘Davis’ father?’

  ‘He was murdered,’ Deena answered, her voice empty.

  ‘Murdered?’ Aiden was shocked.

  ‘Don’t look so surprised,’ Deena chastised. ‘You worked on his case.’

  ‘His case?’ Aiden felt confused. Then, suddenly, something dropped into place and he didn’t know what to say.

  ‘You mean?’

  ‘Yes, Brandon White is the father of my son.’

  The room began to spin as Aiden tried to absorb the information he had been given. Brandon White, the deceased, murdered Brandon White, was the father of Davis Fern. It was almost too much to comprehend.

  ‘Shocking, isn’t it?’ Deena tried to smile but her eyes remained sad and lost.

  ‘Were you involved with him?’ Aiden managed to ask.

  ‘Were we lovers?’ Deena mocked the question. ‘Yes, Mr Connelly, Brandon and I were lovers, though I wasn’t the only one, I’m quite certain of that.’

  ‘He was married,’ Aiden suddenly felt incredibly defensive. Brandy had sat at home, night after night, enduring horrific acts of abuse whilst her husband was out romancing ex-Playmates. The thought sickened him and he had to take a long drink of his iced tea to fight the urge to vomit. He could feel anger rising in him, causing his hands to bunch into fists and his cheeks to redden.

  ‘So was I,’ Deena replied. ‘We were both consenting adults. We knew what we were getting ourselves into.’

  A long silence fell between them, Aiden unable to speak, struggling to subdue the outrage he felt on Brandy’s behalf.

  ‘Did he know about Davis?’ he asked at length, not wanting to know the answer.

  ‘No.’

  Aiden fell silent again. All he could think about was Brandy and how hurt she’d be to know of the betrayal.

  ‘I know you were close to the case,’ Deena said, seeming uncomfortable. ‘I know you were close to Brandy.’

  ‘Don’t you say her name!’ Aiden snapped.

  ‘Don’t be a hypocrite, Mr Connelly,’ Deena said, a wry smile now playing on her ruby-reddened lips. ‘You sit here defending a woman you clearly care about when you are married to another, so surely you understand that the heart may not always want what it’s supposed to have.’

  Aiden was at a loss for words, sadly she was right.

  ‘Despite what you may think, Brandon was a good man,’ Deena continued.

  ‘He most certainly was not!’ Aiden countered vehemently.

  ‘He was to me,’ Deena smirked. ‘Maybe not to others but, to me, he was only ever a gentleman.’

  Aiden could feel himself seething, angered by her smugness, by the fact that she’d had Brandon’s child, that she was defending him even when he beat upon his poor, defenceless wife.

  ‘I trust you’ll keep my secret,’ Deena said, reaching into her bag for her purse as she prepared to leave.

  ‘And why would I do that?’

  Deena retrieved several dollar bills and placed them down before looking up at Aiden, her face marked with a victorious smile.

  ‘Because you wouldn’t want to break her little heart. You know it would kill her if she ever found out.’

  Aiden felt frozen to his chair, held down by his inability to act. Deena was right and he hated that. She’d manipulated his feelings for Brandy to protect herself and he was so blinded by his feelings that he was unable to overcome or see past them.

  ‘I didn’t want to tell you,’ Deena admitted, standing up and straightening her sundress. ‘But you kept pushing. And now you know the truth and it’s messy. It’s messy and, to a degree, you’re involved.’

  ‘What about the paternity suit?’ Aiden asked, wanting to frighten Deena, not wanting to appear completely powerless.

  ‘Go ahead,’ Deena shrugged. ‘But then she finds out. I don’t think she’d take it too well, do you? Brandon always said she was an emotional wreck.’

  ‘Leave her out of it,’ Aiden managed to get a grip on his emotions, making himself sound formidable even if he didn’t feel it.

  ‘Don’t you think you owe your husband, and your son, the truth?’

  ‘No,’ Deena replied simply. ‘I think if Davis had to choose between a fake millionaire daddy or a dead one, he’d pick the millionaire.’

  ‘You’re cruel.’

  ‘No, I’m just a mother trying to do right by my kids. You can hate me if you want to, Mr Connelly, I don’t care what you think of me. I just care that you stay the hell away from this case.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mrs Fern,’ Aiden said his voice cold. ‘I intend to.’

  *

  ‘Aid, can you grab that spoon off Meegan?’ Isla asked but her husband didn’t even turn his head to acknowledge her.

  ‘Aid!’ she shouted.

  ‘Sorry, what?’ Aiden asked, pulling himself out of his thoughts and into the present. Since his encounter with Deena Fern, he had been completely distracted.

  ‘Can you get that spoon off Meegs?’ Isla asked again.

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ Aiden retrieved the spoon from the toddler who promptly spat on him in protest. Yet Aiden didn’t even register the defiant act.

  ‘Don’t let her get away with that!’ Isla declared from her vantage point by the cooker where she had seen everything unfold.

  ‘With what?’

  ‘She just spat on you!’

  ‘She did?’ Aiden sighed and then turned to his daughter who pulled in her cheeks as though she was preparing to spit on him once more.

  ‘Meegan, don’t spit on Daddy, its wrong,’ his voice was stern but unconvincing.

  ‘Aid, is everything all right?’ Isla asked, concerned, leaving the cooking dinner for a moment to join him at the table.

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine. Work is just a bit intense.’

  ‘The paternity case?’

  ‘Yeah, amongst other things.’

  ‘What other things?’ Isla asked, anxious to get to the root of her husband’s unease.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Aiden waved a dismissive hand and made a mental note to try and not dwell too much on the whole Brandon White baby situation whilst at home. But it was hard to ignore the issue as it was at the forefront of his mind. Every time his thoughts were momentarily idle it would creep in, his fears and anxieties over what Brandy would think. And then his thoughts would turn solely to Brandy, and he’d find himself zoning out whilst he wondered what she was doing at that very moment and, more importantly, if she was happy.

  ‘It does matter when you’re not focusing on your family,’ Isla told him.

  ‘I’m just tired.’ It was a feeble excuse but the only one Aiden could muster on the spot.

  ‘Do you want to go rest in the lounge while I finish up in here?’

  ‘You don’t need any help?’

  ‘I’ve got it.’

  Giving Aiden space was perhaps the last thing he needed. Alone in the lounge he got out his iPad and began idly browsing the Internet, fighting the urge to search for Brandy Cotton Chicago.

  Perhaps if he just saw a picture of her he would feel better. If he could see an image of her smiling, appearing happy, he could forget what he knew about Brandon and accept that it was all part of her troubled past, something she was trying hard to move on from.

  As Aiden caught up on the news he wasn’t really taking any of the stories in. There was unrest in North Korea, an old TV actor had died. None of it particularly sparked his interest. He imagined the headlines if the story about Deena and Brandon ever leaked out. It would undoubtedly be big news locally as Deena was a semi-celebrity and Brandon a local star still to this day, despite the revelations about his abusive marriage. The town of Avalon were quick to forget if not forgive his indiscretions as he remained a footballing hero and, moreover, he was deceased and the superstitious residents of the town refused to speak ill of the dead. Even Father West escaped their scathing rumours as being a man of God, albeit a fallen one, still marked him as untouchable.

  It was Brandy’s
name which continued to be dragged through the mud. She was wise to have left Avalon, the horrors of her scandal would have followed her around like an unpleasant odour for the rest of her life if she’d stayed.

  Perhaps the story of Brandon and Deena’s baby would even make national news. With Deena being an ex-Playmate and Brandon a murdered football hero it was definitely the sort of story that the trashier newspapers loved to run with.

  Aiden hated the thought of Brandy being subjected to yet more gossip and cruel talk. He wanted to shield her from that, to protect her from how horrid the world could be. She still seemed so innocent to him, despite all she had been through. She retained a purity which he would do anything to save from corruption.

  ‘I said dinner is ready!’ Isla appeared in the doorway to the lounge, looking dishevelled and angry.

  ‘Did you not hear me calling you?’

  ‘Sorry, no,’ Aiden shook his head and switched off his iPad with one swift flick across the screen.

  Aiden went into the kitchen where the air was now hot and humid due to the cooking of dinner. Isla had opened a window but it was slow in breaking down the density of the steam.

  ‘She spat on me,’ Isla said as they began to eat their lasagne.

  ‘She did?’ Aiden was surprised. He thought Meegan had only spat on him as a way of attracting his attention, be it a very crude way.

  ‘Ever since the pirate party she’s been displaying some really bad habits,’ Isla continued while Meegan merrily tucked into her own dinner, oblivious that they were talking about her.

  ‘Like what?’ Aiden asked.

  ‘The spitting, she’s bitten me and even called me a cow.’ Isla lowered her voice for the latter part, not wanting her daughter to hear her repeating the word.

  ‘It’s going to happen, the more she plays with other kids she’s going to pick up their bad behaviours. All we can do is let her know it’s not acceptable,’ Aiden said calmly.

  ‘But I thought the whole point of being here was that she wouldn’t exposed to bad kids!’

  ‘There’s no such thing as bad kids, only bad parents.’

  ‘You know what I mean!’