by Carys Jones
‘I’m new, moved there less than a week ago.’ He felt uncomfortable that the conversation was moving towards him; it was important to never reveal personal information to clients.
‘Must be different from living in a big city.’
‘City?’ He nervously wondered how she could possibly know where he was from.
‘Relax,’ she smiled, noticing his tense expression. ‘Your suit gave you away. You can’t buy smart suits like that in Avalon, and if you did you would find little occasion to wear them. In all honesty I’m mighty touched that you made such an effort to come and see little old me!’
He searched for the cynicism in her comment, but saw only a warm smile and kind, yet frightened eyes.
‘Well, let us get down to it.’ Aiden leant and retrieved a file from his briefcase and switched on the Dictaphone. ‘Can you please just state your name and age, for the recording?’
‘Brandy White. I’m twenty-four.’
‘Thank you. So on April 6th of this year, you were charged with the murder of your husband, Brandon White.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Records state that you yourself made the distress call to 911 at approximately 11.23pm.’
Brandy nodded. ‘Can you please answer vocally for the recording?’
‘Oh, yes, I made the call.’
‘Did you call because you regretted what had just happened?’
‘Oh no, sir. I waited until he was dead, then called.’
‘So, you admit that you deliberately stabbed your husband,’ he checked his notes, ‘six times in the back and chest?’
‘Yes.’
‘Waiting until he was dead and then called 911?’
‘Yes.’
‘Would you say that you were of sound mind when the incident occurred?’
‘Oh yes, for the first time in my life I saw things clearly.’ Aiden found her responses puzzling and was beginning to question the young woman’s sanity. She did not appear to be the least bit remorseful and was quick to admit her guilt. On all accounts she should come across as callous and cold, but there was a warmth in her eyes and in her smile that suggested that deliberate murder was something she could never have committed, even in her wildest dreams.
‘Was the murder pre-meditated?’
Brandy flushed with embarrassment and Aiden realised that she had not fully understood his question. ‘Was it planned out?’
‘Yes and no.’
‘Can you be more clear, please.’
‘Well, I knew it had to be done, I just didn’t know when until the opportunity arose. So I guess that it was sort of planned.’
‘OK.’ Aiden jotted down a few notes. ‘So that you understand, Brandy, you have pleaded guilty to the murder of Brandon White and say that you did this of your own free will whilst of sound mind.’
‘Uh huh.’
‘This means that at your trial, if the Judge is satisfied that you are guilty of first degree murder, under state law, you will receive the death penalty.’ Aiden felt sick to his stomach as he said it. Brandy nodded in understanding and tears pricked her eyes but they did not wash down upon her cheeks. She took a deep breath, quickly composing herself.
‘I am happy to accept the consequences of my actions.’ There was something bizarrely noble about her attitude.
‘Very well, then. As your attorney you can address any questions you have to me.’
‘Oh good, since no one talks to me in here. I’ve been getting kind of lonely.’ A sadness seemed to envelope her tiny frame. Aiden wondered if the reality of what she had done was beginning to set in.
‘Well, I’ll come back in a few days so that we can discuss things further.’
‘I’d like that,’ she smiled. The guards moved forward as their time together came to an end.
‘Will you be attending church this Sunday, Mr Connelly?’ Her question caught him off guard.
‘Why yes, I believe I will be.’
‘Well then be sure to send Father West my regards.’ With that she left the room and the atmosphere suddenly grew much more oppressive. She was a light and Aiden felt a pang of guilt that he would be assisting in helping to extinguish it.
As Aiden passed through the security gates and started his journey back to Avalon he reflected upon his first meeting with Brandy. During his career in law he had encountered many men and women accused of murder, some guilty, some not so guilty. They varied in age, ethnic background, financial status, but one trait that they all had in common was that when you were with them, no matter what they were saying, be it professing their innocence or describing the murder in gruesome detail, there was always an element of anger and, dare Aiden say, evil, lurking behind their eyes. Whilst these people may seem perfectly normal on the outside, he could always sense that malignant rage and malice which would drive them to do something as terrible as taking another life. What puzzled him about Brandy was that in her eyes all he saw was sadness. Something about the case just wasn’t adding up.
Besides the fact that she did not seem in any way monstrous, which was a silly conclusion anyway, she was more than likely putting on a show for Aiden, hiding her true self. But even if that were the case, there were the simple physics of it all. Brandy White was tiny; she could not weigh more thana hundred and ten pounds. How had she managed to overpower her husband? It was hard to imagine that her husband could have been of even slighter build than she. It was possible but still, he couldn’t make a sound judgement whilst Brandon remained an enigma. Aiden noted that he needed to do more background research on Brandon White. He needed to know why a seemingly sweet and innocent woman would murder her own husband in cold blood and then so freely admit to it.
His mind had been racing so much that Aiden had failed to realise that he was already back in Avalon. The sky had now clouded over with the threat of rain. A small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that this was tornado country but he dismissed it. He parked up outside Cope and May; he was quickly getting to know his way around town.
‘Well, hello, Mr. Connelly,’ Betty greeted him warmly as his arrival was declared through the gentle jingle at the door.
‘Hello, Betty, how are you today?’
‘Very well, thank you, dear. And yourself? Did you find Eastham all right?’
‘Oh yes, no trouble at all.’ He was about to walk into the office when he added, ‘Your directions really helped.’
Betty beamed at this, and, maybe he imagined it, seemed to blush slightly. Isla was always teasing Aiden about his effect on women but he failed to notice it. Looking back, he reasoned that he had never chatted a woman up before, had never needed to as they seemed more than happy to approach him. Isla had cornered him at a mutual friend’s party when they were at college together. She later told him that she only did it because he looked like James Dean. Not that Aiden was complaining. Yes, he had never been short of female attention and had never pursued a woman. The macho side of him would have welcomed the challenge of the chase, but the lazier side felt why run after what you already have, on a plate no less?
‘Hey there, champ!’ Edmond was at his desk typing away, surrounded by stacks of paper and three empty coffee mugs. He was clearly having a busy day. ‘How did it go at Eastham?’
‘It went well,’ Aiden said as he sat down and switched on his computer, ready to write up his report of his first meeting with Brandy. ‘Although…’ He stopped himself from going further. Edmond would surely think him a fool if he confessed to his mixed feelings about the case.
‘Although?’
‘No, nothing.’ Aiden waved his hand dismissively.
‘No, go on, son. You can talk freely here, you are amongst friends.’
Aiden took a deep breath.
‘Brandy White, she is so, you know, small? And very well spoken. She even expressed her desire to see a priest. She just doesn’t fit the stereotypical role of a cold killer.’
Edmond stiffened in his chair and locked eyes with Aiden. His face wa
s set in a stern expression.
‘Brandon White was a good, decent man. A pillar of the community. Small she may be but her wickedness knows no bounds. I’ve no doubt she fluttered her eyelashes and pouted her big red lips. To look at, you would think she was the sweetest thing. Do not be taken in by her. She is beautiful, but deadly. Keep your distance.’
Aiden was surprised by Edmond’s hostile tone and knew better than to push the conversation further.
‘You are right, of course.’ Edmond relaxed at this and his eyes drifted back to his computer screen. ‘I just need to do some more research on the case; I need to get more background on Mr. White.’
‘Well, you won’t be short of information around here. He’s a local hero, led his high school football team, the Avalon Angels, to win their first ever State Championship. It was wonderful. He attended church every Sunday without fail and worked for his father, Clyde, over at his timber company. He was Clyde’s only son, he has been in pieces ever since.’
Aiden just nodded as he jotted down football, church and timber. He wanted to get a better idea of who Brandon was. Everyone in Avalon seemed to idolise him, but if he was such a great man, why would his young, beautiful wife kill him? If a story like this had occurred in Chicago the papers would have had a field day.
‘Was there a lot of media coverage on the murder?’
‘Oh, tons. The local paper, of course, and once word got out about what had happened more and more started turning up and asking questions. Things have died down a bit lately but I expect the media circus will come to town again around the trial. You best be ready, my boy. Once they get wind that you are her lawyer they will come sniffing round and asking questions. It is always best just to stay schtum.’
‘Yes, no worries, I won’t say anything to the press.’ He added newspapers to his list.
‘Good lad.’
‘Before I forget, my wife, Isla, would like to have yourself and your wife round for dinner one night.’
‘Oh how splendid!’ Edmond smiled ear to ear. ‘I’ll have a word with Mrs. Cope tonight. Although I should warn you, she does like a drink or two.’
The clouds still hung heavy with the threat of rain when Aiden pulled into his driveway. He had spent the afternoon going over his notes and listening to the audio recording of his meeting with Brandy. He had assembled a number of questions for when he next went to visit the prison and was determined to find out more about her deceased husband, Brandon.
The sweet smell of apple pie floated on the air and enticed his senses. He hoped that the delicious aroma was coming from his own home but did not want to get his hopes up as it would be completely out of character for Isla to bake.
To Aiden’s delight, when he entered the kitchen he was greeted by a glorious pie sitting proudly in the centre of the table.
‘Well, well,’ he called out. Meegan came hurrying in to greet him, throwing herself clumsily into his legs for a hug.
‘Hey, tiny dancer.’ He scooped her up in his arms and noted how quickly she was growing and gaining weight these days. He was thankful to now be having the chance to savour each and every precious moment of all her too fleeting childhood.
‘Pie, pie!’ she squealed, pointing over at the table.
‘Yes, I can see a lovely pie. Did Mommy make it?’
‘And me!’
‘Oh, of course, and you.’
‘She helped crush apples,’ Isla informed him as she entered the kitchen.
‘Clever girl.’ Meegan was beaming with pride.
‘How was work?’
Aiden set his daughter down and she ran off into the lounge. He admired the pie again and gave his wife an approving smile.
‘Well this is certainly nice to come home to. Makes a change from takeaway!’
‘The nearest takeaway is two towns over so you better get used to good old-fashioned home cooking!’
‘Work was good thanks, hun. Went to the prison, it was quite interesting. I can’t make her out.’
‘Who?’
‘The suspect. She seems, well, not like a killer.’
‘But she is though, isn’t she?’
‘Well, yes, she confessed.’
‘There you go then. Don’t go over-thinking it. Just enjoy handling a simple case.’ Isla began to lay the table for dinner.
‘So what delicacy have you whipped up for tonight?’
‘Macaroni and cheese.’
‘Oh.’ Aiden found it hard to conceal his disappointment at the meal which had been his staple diet whilst a struggling student.
‘I know, it isn’t the most exciting but the pie took forever. I’m still getting used to this whole Stepford Wives scenario.’
‘I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong. I love mac and cheese, and I know Meegan is crazy for it. Thanks.’ He went over and planted a kiss on her cheek.
‘So, what do you think?’ Isla stepped back from him and held her hands out expectantly, her face full of excitement.
‘So?’ Aiden was confused.
‘Come on Aid, don’t kid, you like it, right?’
‘Erm…’ He looked his wife up and down, unsure what the answer was she was looking for.
‘God, Aid!’ Her tone made it clear he had given a very wrong answer.
‘My hair, jeez! I had my hair done, remember? Shorter, new colour. God, you just live in your own little world, just like you did in Chicago!’ Her face was flush with anger, and now that she mentioned it, her hair did look a bit different.
‘Hey,’ Aiden was getting defensive, ‘there is no need to be like that. I’ve just got in; give me chance to get myself together.’
‘There was a time when you would notice something like that straight away!’
‘Well, excuse me for not being the most perceptive man in the world! Your hair looks great, Isla. Sorry I did not notice it the second you walked into the room. Maybe you shouldn’t have distracted me with the pie if you wanted to be the centre of attention!’
‘Oh, that’s right, I think it’s all about me.’ Her hands were folded across her chest, her eyes locked onto Aiden in a death stare and her voice was now eerily calm. He hated women’s mood swings. He hated arguing because he knew that whatever he said was inevitably going to be the wrong answer.
‘It usually is always about you.’
Now her eyes bulged with rage and the calmness was once again swept away by her anger.
‘Oh yes, Aid. Me, me me! We are here because of ME! Isn’t that right? How dare you! I moved my life for you. And this is how you repay me? Great! I’m trying my best to keep it together, this place is so unbelievably backwards, getting my hair done at least helps me get some sense of normality.’
‘Do you know how shallow that sounds?’
‘I do not care! I’m here and I’m really trying. I don’t want to become some housewife who fades into the background of your life!’
‘Isla, I see you. All I could think when I came in was how proud I was of you baking a pie, which is so much more important to me than your hair being immaculate. That is why we are here, to get our values right. You look beautiful to me no matter what. I don’t want Meegan to grow up being image-obsessed. I don’t want her to get sick like you did.’
Isla’s eyes grew teary at the mention of her battle with anorexia which, while a distant memory, still had the power to cut her like a knife. Aiden crossed the space between them which was littered with insults and spite. He held his wife in his arms and kissed her new hair.
‘You look beautiful, baby, you always do.’ She was now crying into his shoulder.
‘It’s just hard, Aid,’ Isla spluttered through her tears. ‘This isn’t my home. Chicago was my home and I’m lonely here. I had a life, I had friends and now I have…nothing. I’m sorry, I’m just finding it hard to adjust.’
‘I know,’ Aiden whispered soothingly in to his wife’s ear. ‘It will take time, baby. We’ve just got to stick together.’
‘Mommy?’ Meegan was lookin
g up at them, bewilderment in her little face and tears streaking her podgy cheeks.
‘Oh, baby girl,’ Isla gasped, hurriedly wiping the tears from her own cheeks.
‘What…is…wrong?’ the little girl sobbed, the confusion of seeing her mother cry overwhelming her.
‘Nothing, honey.’ Isla was now hugging her little girl as her sobs turned into hiccups.
‘Daddy told Mommy he was going to eat the whole pie because it looks so good and I’m very hungry,’ Aiden offered as an explanation.
‘No!’ Meegan screamed and started hitting his legs in fury.
‘Hey,’ he protested, grabbing her little arms mid-punch. ‘I’m sure that there is enough for us all to share, you and Mommy did a great job and I’m very proud.’
Isla smiled warmly at them both.
‘And doesn’t Mommy look super pretty with her hair?’
‘Oh yes.’ Meegan was now smiling again. Aiden felt exhausted; living with two women was far from easy.
‘They made my nails pink!’ She showed her dad her tiny nails which now glistened and sparkled. He hid his true feelings with a smile as he couldn’t handle another argument. Meegan was two; she didn’t need to be getting caught up in all that beauty stuff yet. He would discuss it with Isla another time. For now, they were going to enjoy a nice family evening together.
As they sat down to eat that evening, rain began splashing against the windows with a sudden fury, the tension in the air finally lifted.
Chapter Three: Little Miss Southern Star
Aiden took a long drink from his coffee and looked down sadly at his half-eaten breakfast, knowing that he was going to have to admit defeat.
‘Whats wrong?’ Isla asked from across the table. ‘Don’t you like your breakfast?’
‘It is wonderful,’ he began.
‘Don’t you feel well?’
‘I feel fine.’
‘So what is it?’
Aiden hesitated. Isla was getting really prickly about things lately and he didn’t want another argument. The truth of it was, that every day since moving to Avalon she insisted on cooking him a massive breakfast each morning, ‘to build him up for the day’ apparently, but it was just too much. Aiden was used to a liquid breakfast; on the rare occasions that he did eat it was usually just a bagel snatched from a vendor on his dash into work. Being confronted with a plate overflowing with bacon rashers, eggs both scrambled and fried, grits, French toast and beans was starting to make him feel sick. He knew he had to tread gently when expressing his thoughts to Isla; she was just being nice to him after all.
