First to Fall

by Carys Jones

  ‘Oh, do you know what else I’m going to do?’

  ‘What?’ he asked, intrigued.

  ‘I’ve enrolled at a college in Chicago. I’m going to go back and get my high school diploma!’ She was smiling at him and she was more luminous than ever. Looking at her, so beautiful and full of promise, he felt amazing. The world was no longer an evil place devoid of hope. She had restored his faith in humanity, in justice and in love.

  ‘Are you an angel?’ he asked and then laughed at how stupid he sounded.

  ‘Nope, I’m just a twenty-four-year old widow with a whole lot of life that needs living!’

  ‘Just don’t go forgetting about me!’

  ‘As if I could! Thank you for saving me, Aiden.’

  ‘No problem, Brandy Cotton, it was my pleasure.’

  As Aiden entered the kitchen of his home his senses were drenched in the sweet scent of freshly baked cakes. In pride of place in the middle of the table sat a delicious looking chocolate cake, with the words ‘Love You Daddy’ scrawled on it in icing.

  ‘Do you like it?’ Isla asked from the doorway with Meegan perched in her arms, watching her father’s reaction excitedly.

  ‘It’s great! I can’t believe that my girls did this for me!’ Meegan leapt down from her mother and clumsily ran over to his waiting arms for a big cuddle.

  ‘I made it just for you!’ she told him happily.

  ‘Does that mean that I get to eat it all?’

  ‘Nooooo!’

  ‘OK, OK, I’ll share.’ He smiled across to Isla, she looked tired and weary.

  ‘Sweetheart, why don’t you go upstairs and play with your toys for a little bit?’ The little girl obeyed him and toddled off towards her room.

  ‘So…it’s all over now then?’ Isla asked nervously. In her heart she knew that she was questioning if more than the trial was over. She was a woman, she felt things. She had tried to ignore the way Aiden looked when he spoke about Brandy, how he had been on the verge of a breakdown at the thought of losing her. She didn’t want to admit it, but she could feel him slipping away from her.

  ‘Yeah, the trial is all over, Brandy is a free woman now, its great.’

  ‘Have you been to see her?’ There was an accusing tone in her voice.

  ‘Yeah, just before, to straighten out some legal crap, you know how it is.’

  ‘You work so hard,’ she said bitterly.

  They were silent for a moment, each contemplating their next move in their own mind. The soft humming of a contented little girl playing with her dolls danced down the stairs and lay between them.

  ‘She’s very beautiful,’ Isla commented.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Brandy.’

  ‘Isla…’ He put up his hands in frustration. He could tell where this was going and he didn’t have the energy for it.

  ‘Do you love her?’ The question was so direct that it caught him off guard. He looked at Isla, his wife, the mother of his child. He saw in her face part of his own history, and in Meegan he saw his future. Brandy was right about him, he was a good man, which meant that there was only one answer which he could give.

  ‘No! Don’t be ridiculous, I love you.’ The lie burnt his throat as he released it.

  ‘Oh, Aid.’ She ran over, relieved, and melted into her husband’s arms. ‘I’m sorry to question you, I really am. I’m so silly. Forgive me?’

  ‘Of course.’ And he kissed her. He felt like a fraud.

  ‘We can get back to how we were, when things were good.’ She pressed herself harder against him. Part of him wanted that, to have things return to how they once were. Perhaps, in time, his feelings for Brandy would dull and he could happily play the role of dutiful husband and doting father.

  ‘Have you seen Father West?’

  ‘No,’ he answered, grateful for the change in the topic of conversation. ‘If I never see that man again that is fine by me.’

  ‘But he came good in the end,’ Isla challenged.

  ‘Imagine if he had never come forward, what would have happened?’ For a moment, her darker side raised its wicked head once more and she thought of what could have been. A world without Brandy, was that really such a bad place? Father West had seemed like such a good man, and the people in the town loved him so. Now Avalon was in turmoil, not one but two of their heroes had been disgraced and the local tramp now once more crowned a queen.

  ‘What will Brandy do now?’

  ‘She’s going to live in Chicago, sample city life.’

  ‘And what about us? Are we going to stay in Avalon?’

  Aiden pondered the question for a moment. His expectations of country life had certainly not been met. Whilst he enjoyed the fresh, clean air and the abundance of nature, he was sure that he would still be regarded as a villain and an outsider by many of the residents for years to come. He had made enemies of Buck Fern and Clyde White who remained heavyweights of the Avalon community, his wife had even feared for their safety at one point. What was keeping them there?

  ‘I don’t know, we could always move.’

  ‘Again? I don’t think so, Aid.’

  ‘Do you like it here?’ He sadly realised that he had never before asked his wife how she was feeling about living in Avalon.

  ‘I’m getting to like it,’ she smiled. ‘I’ve enrolled Meegan at a lovely pre-school which she starts next week and Edmond and his wife have invited us over for a barbeque this weekend. I think that we are finally starting to settle in.’

  ‘Decision made then, we stay.’

  Aiden lay awake that night, as he did many nights. The crickets hummed outside his window, oblivious to all that had occurred in their small town. A gentle breeze fanned the curtains and tickled his skin. Earlier, in the gentle light of dusk, he had driven around town to clear his head and had noticed a group of people furiously scrubbing the graffiti off Trinity Church. The world was beginning to return to normal and Aiden and his family were now a part of it. Isla was lost in a deep sleep as he waded through his forest of thoughts. Tired of the sound of his own concerns echoing in his head he got up and wandered softly into his daughter’s room to watch Meegan sleeping. She was so peaceful, so innocent; his very own Avalon angel who needed him more than anybody else in the whole world. Brandy could find her own way now; his daughter needed him, he knew where he was supposed to be.

  ‘Good to see you, Mr. Connelly.’ Betty smiled warmly at him as he entered Cope and May Solicitors at Law.

  ‘You too, Betty,’ he replied, thankful that she was no longer angry towards him. All day around town people had been smiling at him, wishing him good day. It was a much needed change from the bitter stares and cold silences. He was beginning to once more feel a part of Avalon.

  ‘Aiden, my dear boy.’ Edmond wrapped his arms around his young colleague before he was even fully through the door to the office. ‘You did a splendid job, splendid, getting Father West to confess to it all like you did!’

  ‘Well, he came forward himself.’

  ‘Don’t be so modest! You are a modern day Atticus Finch!’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that,’ Aiden blushed.

  ‘This is a time to rejoice! You have put Cope and May back on the map! Betty has been inundated, poor girl, with calls from people eager to have us represent them. Glorious, simply glorious!’

  ‘I’m just glad to help.’

  ‘And helped you have, my lad! Come, come, a toast.’ Edmond handed Aiden a mug where a dash of hard liquor sat nestled at the bottom, golden and pure. For a brief moment, Aiden thought sadly of his favourite blue mug which was no more. Change was inevitable; the skill to getting through life unscathed was learning to adapt to it.

  ‘To my colleague and friend, Aiden Connelly.’ The two men chinked mugs before sinking back their contents. He coughed as the amber nectar burnt his throat.

  ‘Its strong stuff,’ Edmond chuckled.

  ‘Sure is,’ Aiden wheezed, struggling to find his voice.

  ‘I take it
you are planning on staying here in Avalon? I know it hasn’t been an easy introduction to the town and you had to take a whole load of crap off people, so I’d understand if you were thinking of heading back to the city.’

  ‘No, I’ve been doing some thinking and here is where I want to be for now.’

  ‘Well, that’s great news. Since you are staying, you’ll be needing this.’ Edmond passed Aiden a brown file.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘Your next case.’

  Aiden flicked open the file and scanned the first page with interest.

  ‘Custody case?’ He raised his eyebrows to Edmond.

  ‘Yeah, quite high profile. A wealthy couple who live just out of town, he’s old and loaded, she’s young and stunning, she’s been wed to him for a few years, given him two kids and now wants out. However, the old man wants full custody, says she isn’t a fit mother, that sort of thing.’

  ‘So, I’m representing the mother?’

  ‘No, that’d be too easy, our client is the father. I figured that you are ready to handle the tough cases now.’

  ‘I’ve never seen a father be awarded full custody before.’

  ‘Well, just see what you can do. This isn’t an open, shut case but it should be a whole lot less aggravation than the White murder case.’

  ‘I’ll do my best. What’s the guy’s name?’

  ‘You are going to love this,’ Edmond smiled conspiratorially. ‘His name is Samuel Fern.’

  ‘Fern?’ Aiden echoed, shocked. ‘As in…?’

  ‘As in the one and only. He is Buck Fern’s older brother. I told you that this was a small town.’

  Aiden Connelly was finally free from the rat race, yet his troubles had followed him from the city and into the country. He sat with the sun on his face, a beer in his hand, contemplating life in general. In the distance, his wife pushed their young daughter on a swing, and the child’s jubilant giggles floated over to him on a gentle summer breeze. It was perfect. Yet his heart ached as he thought of Brandy, off in the city, and wondered what she was doing, who she was meeting. He tilted his head to gaze up into the cloudless sky, a vast amazing blue which seemed to go on forever. He had decided to take Samuel Fern’s case even though he knew it wouldn’t be easy. The warmth from the sun delighted his senses. Despite the clear skies he sensed change in the air, or perhaps it was just within himself. His adventures in Avalon were just beginning.

  Read on for an exclusive extract from Carys Jones’ novel Prime Deception out now…

  Prologue

  The Shadow newspaper offices, London

  Dawn had not yet broken over the capital and yet the offices of The Shadow newspaper were already a hive of activity. Eager and ambitious journalists were bent over their computers, furiously typing away, some not having left from the night before.

  The Shadow was England’s biggest selling tabloid newspaper and, as its name suggested, it was ever present amongst society, exposing every ounce of scandal and corruption as it occurred around the country. The paper had grown in notoriety over the last decade, being linked to practically every sin committed by a member of the elite. If someone had behaved badly, The Shadow knew about it and exposed it, casting the delinquent into darkness.

  Part of the paper’s success was easily attributed to the doggish determination of the staff who listed eating and sleeping as a low priority compared with work. In such a fiercely competitive field, they were each trying to make a name for themselves by catching that one big story which would set the country on fire.

  John Quinn had that story. He almost trembled with excitement when he thought about it. He ran his hands through his thinning black hair as he sat slumped over his desk, going over the questions he needed to ask for what felt like the hundredth time. He had been up all night since he had received the call. It was a young girl wanting to make money on a kiss and tell story, standard stuff really, except the man involved was no ordinary man. John had run into her at a party a few months back, and she had been really drunk, and talkative. He’d held back on revealing his occupation until she completely divulged her extra-curricular activities to him. She had seemed genuinely horrified when he offered her his card, professing how she most certainly did not want to sell her story. But he knew she would. The money was too good to pass up; dignity always had a price.

  So, as John had predicted, she had called. Now all he had to do was capture her side of the story and run with it. It would be front page news and he would instantly have made a career for himself. Having spent four years at university, followed by three as an unpaid intern, five being the office gopher then three as a struggling journalist, John felt he was long overdue some success in his field. He needed to go home, shower and make himself presentable, but he was afraid to even leave his desk; afraid someone might snap the story up from right under his nose.

  He remembered how desperate the girl had sounded when she called and almost felt guilty. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought she had been crying. John had seen so many young women, naively lured in to bed by rich and powerful men, selling their story out of spite or desperation. He failed to empathise with their plight – after all, they had willingly engaged in events. But this time something felt different. Perhaps it was because the man in question appeared whiter than white to the rest of the country and exposing this girl and their sordid affair would tarnish and possibly destroy his reputation.

  John Quinn was rarely shocked, but her story had genuinely caught him off guard. He did wonder if perhaps it had just been drunken ramblings, but then she had called, confirming everything she had said and insisting she wanted to take him up on the offer of writing a piece. He’d named a price to her which few people would be strong enough to turn down, because he knew just how valuable a story of that calibre was.

  Aware that time was pressing on, John took one last glance at his notes and put on his jacket, intending to return quickly to his flat and then meet the girl. He had just pushed his arm down in to the second sleeve when the internal phone on his desk began to ring. Sighing, he leant forward and picked up the receiver, tersely announcing himself to the caller.

  ‘John, its Maria,’ came a soft female voice. Maria worked in the news department, unlike John who was in features. She was one of the few people within the tangled structure of The Shadow who he trusted. They had slept together a few times, and continued to do so on the rare occasions that he wasn’t too exhausted or was feeling particularly lonely. Maria was nothing special; you could easily pass her by on the street without feeling the need to take a second glance, but she was kind and trustworthy. They were qualities which John figured he might one day be looking for in a woman and so he attempted to keep her relatively close.

  ‘I’m just on my way out.’

  ‘I know, to meet with that girl, right? What was her name, Lorna Thomas?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s right.’ John inwardly grimaced at the accuracy of Maria’s memory. During their last night together, pillow talk had wandered across into work territory and John had disclosed that he potentially had an amazing story in his hands regarding a kiss and tell but he’d managed to stop himself before he revealed any further details. Whilst he was close to Maria, she was still ultimately the competition and he didn’t want to risk her stealing the story out from under him.

  ‘I’ve just had a police report come through about her.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Apparently she committed suicide last night. Want me to email the report to you? I figured you’d probably want to run with the story yourself. Chief says no more than a hundred words on it.’

  ‘Right…okay, yeah.’

  In a daze, John took off his coat and repositioned himself in his chair. He suddenly felt a pang of remorse run through him that he had not been more responsive to the girl’s sadness over the phone. He had propositioned her to sell her story; he hoped he had not driven her to take her own life. John shook his head in disbelief. The story that would have made hi
s career was now gone, never to be confirmed. He read the report with dull eyes as it arrived in his inbox.

  It made for sombre reading. There was nothing about the girl Lorna had been, nothing about the prestigious internship she’d had in London, nothing about her history. Her death had no relevance within the paper, there was seemingly no story there and so she was resigned to a mere hundred words to mark the finite end of her young life.

  Sadness slipped over him as he placed his fingertips to his keyboard and began to write a brief obituary for the girl he was supposed to be interviewing. His heart felt heavy with each letter he pressed. John finished the piece and got up and walked away from his desk, but not before calling Maria and asking her to come round to his flat that night. He didn’t feel like being alone.

  22-year-old Lorna Thomas of Kent was found dead in her car in the early hours of this morning. Police have ruled that she committed suicide.

  Chapter One

  A Tabloid Tale

  Charles Lloyd awoke as he did every morning, after a fitful night’s rest where he barely managed to sleep at all. He stretched his arms out, yawning, before rubbing his tired eyes. Beside him, his wife continued to sleep soundly, her auburn hair swept across the white pillow case like a consuming fire. Charles went to wake her and then thought better of it, deciding to let her continue to rest.

  With all the stealth his weary body could manage, Charles removed himself from his marital bed and tiptoed over to his impressive ensuite bathroom, to wash and prepare himself for the inevitably manic day ahead.