Sometimes, behind the simplest cases…

Lawyer Aiden Connolly’s new case seems to be a run-of-the-mill paternity dispute. Millionaire Sam Fern suspects that his son is not his own flesh and blood, and he wants a paternity test to prove it. Fern’s wife Deena, a glamorous former model, is desperate to convince Aiden of her innocence…and she will go to any lengths to prove it.

…hide the darkest truths.

Meanwhile, Aiden is haunted by the memory of another beauty – Brandy White, who he worked to free from a murder charge. The woman he unwittingly fell in love with…and the woman who will once again draw him into a tangle of love and lies. With more than his reputation on the line, can Aiden hold his nerve – when nothing else seems certain?

Also by Carys Jones

Prime Deception

First to Fall

Second to Cry

Carys Jones

Copyright

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2014

Copyright © Carys Jones 2014

Carys Jones asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © June 2014 ISBN: 9781474007535

Version date: 2018-06-27

Carys Jones loves nothing more than to write and create stories which ignite the reader’s imagination. Based in Shropshire, England, Carys lives with her husband, two guinea pigs and her adored canine companion Rollo. When she’s not writing, Carys likes to indulge her inner geek by watching science fiction films or playing video games. She lists John Green, Jodi Picoult and Virginia Andrews as her favourite authors and draws inspiration for her own work from anything and everything. To Carys, there is no greater feeling than when you lose yourself in a great story and it is that feeling of ultimate escapism which she tries to bring to her books.

As always, for my biggest fan, my Dad

Contents

Cover

Blurb

Book List

Title Page

Copyright

Author Bio

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Extract

Endpages

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Be My Baby

Carol Cotton smiled pityingly as her niece, Brandy, hauled her single piece of luggage out of the cab.

‘You sure travel light,’ she commented. Brandy looked down at her holdall and smiled brightly.

‘I tried to leave most of my baggage behind.’

‘Good girl,’ Carol winked, wrapping an arm around the young woman and guiding her towards the apartment building where she’d be staying. As they walked, Brandy’s head pivoted wildly around as though her neck were loose, eager to absorb all the new sights and sounds of the big city.

‘Everything here is so…grand!’ Brandy enthused.

‘You get used to it,’ Carol replied jadedly. Reaching in to her purse she pulled out some keys and opened the glass doors of the apartment building which led in to a modern reception area.

‘Wow,’ Brandy breathed in awe.

‘You’ll be staying here in your own apartment,’ Carol explained, handing the keys to Brandy.

‘Are you joking?’ Brandy looked down at the keys in disbelief.

‘I’m no joker,’ Carol deadpanned. Brandy looked at the keys and then back at her aunt, struggling to take everything in. Less than a month ago she was a in a jail cell awaiting sentencing on her life and now she was in Chicago being given her own apartment. Surreal didn’t cover it.

‘You’ll be working for me,’ Carol explained. ‘At my salon, Chez Vous, which will more than cover your rent.’

Brandy was speechless.

‘I’ve done all right for myself,’ Carol continued. ‘Unlike your momma. It’s high time you had some family show you kindness. I dread to think what you went through back in Avalon.’

They entered the elevator and ascended up to the relevant floor. Brandy felt as though she were in some wonderful dream and any minute she’d wake up and be back in her cell staring at the same four grey walls and wondering whether the sun was shining or not.

‘You need to forget all about Avalon and everything that happened there,’ Carol advised as Brandy fumbled to unlock the apartment door.

‘Chicago is a new start for you, Brandy. The world can be anything you want it to be.’

*

‘So what can you tell me about Samuel Fern?’ Aiden asked his colleague, Edmond Copes, after they had exchanged the usual morning pleasantries.

‘What would you like to know?’ Edmond answered; not lifting his eyes away from the computer screen as his fingers furiously pounded the keyboard beneath it.

‘Just some general background,’ Aiden shrugged nonchalantly. ‘I’m a bit surprised I’ve not heard of him before,’ he added.

‘I mean, I’ve lived here a few months now and he is the Sheriff’s brother.’

‘Being brothers doesn’t mean they get along,’ Edmond said, still not making eye contact.

‘I guess,’ Aiden admitted, stretching back in his desk chair.

‘You’ve met Buck Fern, haven’t you?’ Now Edmond lifted his eyes to look directly at Aiden, a cheeky grin on his face.

‘It’s not hard to believe that even his own brother doesn’t like him!’

Edmond made a fair point. Buck Fern, sheriff of the small town of Avalon was hardly what could be described as a warm and pleasant man. If anything, Aiden had found him only to be cold and cruel. Despite the service Aiden had done the town in exposing the truth around the murder of Brandon White, Buck still refused to offer him more than a nod in greeting.

Aiden considered that perhaps what Buck lacked in kindness, his brother Samuel would make up for. Maybe they juxtaposed one another in character?

As if reading his mind Edmond spoke up. ‘Don’t go thinking Samuel will be the sweet to Buck’s sour,’ his Southern drawl prolonging the flavour-inducing words.

‘So they’re not so different?’ Aiden felt a little disappointed. Working previously with Buck had been more than a struggle. He wasn’t sure he had either the energy or patience to enter into a similar situation with another stubborn member of the Fern clan.

‘Not particularly,’ Edmond shook his head, causing his jowls to shudder slightly. ‘Main difference between them is the money.’

‘Money?’ Aiden felt his interest piqued. As a lawyer, he was well accustomed to handling the distribution of estates, the division of great assets. He had learnt over the years that nothing could tear a family apart as quickly or as effectively as vast amounts of wealth.

‘Oh yeah, Samuel Fern could literally swim in the stuff!’

‘Nice.’

‘He lives on a ranch just outside of town. Massive place.’ Edmond pushed himself away from his desk, his previously pressing work momentarily forgotten as there was now a story to be shared and the old man loved nothing more than finding a new audience for his collection of local tales.

‘Has he always lived here?’

‘Heck no. Sam Fern left Avalon years ago, when he was young. Made his money in the oil business. He’d float in to town over the holidays, spoiling his folks with exotic gifts, donating money to local charities. Thought himself a real big shot.’

‘So why did he move back?’

‘Same reason as you,’ Edmond pointed a finger at Aiden, ‘to settle down. He’d worked hard all his life. He met a woman, fell in love, wanted to establish a family. So he came back.’

‘And Buck wasn’t happy about it?’ Aiden guessed.

‘Buck was fuming about it,’ Edmond chuckled. ‘He spends his life working his butt off for this town. And the moment Sam rolls in, he’s completely forgotten and overlooked for his younger brother. So the two have never seen eye to eye.’

‘I can imagine.’

‘But Sam Fern has got a shedload of cash. I can’t disclose a figure but I wrote up a will for him couple of years back and it brought tears to my eyes!’

‘Jeez.’ Aiden mused on the information for a moment. ‘So around town is he pretty powerful, well known?’

‘Not really, he distances himself from local politics. Probably for the best as that’s Buck’s territory.’

‘Yeah, course.’

As they talked, Aiden scribbled down a few key words on his notepad as he tried to establish some background to the case. Edmond’s local knowledge of people always proved invaluable.

‘So what about his wife?’ Aiden asked, since she would be integral to the case.

‘She used to be a Playboy model,’ Edmond raised his eyebrows suggestively but Aiden didn’t bite. He just nodded to himself thoughtfully.

‘I think she was Miss September one year…’ Edmond offered but Aiden just continued with his notes.

‘And they’ve got two children?’

‘Yeah, two small boys. One is about four the other is younger, maybe almost two.’

‘So they’ve been married for a while?’

‘Five years or so.’

‘Why have a custody battle now?’

‘Well,’ Edmond lowered his voice and glanced towards the door, beyond which was sat their loyal secretary, Betty, whose hearing was less than sharp so there was no real need to whisper.

‘Sam Fern has said he has his suspicions about his second son.’

‘Suspicions?’ Aiden had to strain to hear Edmond.

‘Yes. He says he has a feeling he isn’t his. If we can prove as much, it will certainly help with his custody appeal.’

‘So initially this is a paternity case?’ Aiden said, his voice at a normal level which immediately prompted Edmond to signal that they should be speaking more quietly.

‘Initially yes.’

‘What about the divorce proceedings?’ Aiden entered in to the charade of whispering just to appease Edmond. The older man shook his head.

‘Nothing with the divorce yet. He wants to be certain about the paternity of his second son first.’

‘Why is he suspicious?’

Edmond raised his shoulders. ‘No idea really. He mentioned something about there being a striking physical difference between his boys, reckons he can’t see himself in the younger one.’

‘Has his wife’s behaviour contributed to his fears?’

‘Well she’s young and beautiful and he’s old and was never handsome, not even as a young man, so I imagine he’s always fretted about that sort of thing,’ Edmond answered honestly, now forgetting to whisper.

‘He approached you directly about the case?’

‘Yeah, one afternoon on the golf course.’

‘You get much work when you golf?’ Aiden asked, remembering how when he worked back in Chicago either an exclusive gym or golf course was always a great place to scout for new business. He had no idea that Edmond would be as astute to make connections that way and admired the old man for his initiative.

‘Son, I get nearly all my work from when I golf!’ Edmond laughed to himself, pulling back towards his desk, clearly feeling that the conversation was concluded.

Aiden turned his attention to his own computer and the various emails which needed his attention, but his mind remained on the paternity case and something was pressing its way to the front of his thoughts, refusing to subside.

At last he just had to ask, needing to know the answer.

‘Edmond, how come I’m handling the Sam Fern case if he came to you about it directly?’

‘He asked specifically for you to work on it.’

‘He did?’ Aiden was surprised, shocked even. His previous case had been high profile but he didn’t expect clients to be seeking him out by name, not yet.

‘Sure did. I imagine he heard about how well you got on with Buck which warmed him to you!’ Edmond chuckled to himself once more, his body jiggling within his chair.

*

With his mind still very much on the Sam Fern case, Aiden decided to delay responding to his emails and instead run a quick Internet search on the local millionaire.

Sure enough, there were loads of stories about him. He seemed to be somewhat of a local celebrity.

Most articles were focused around a charitable donation he had given. He had funded a new MRI machine at the local hospital, along with a new ward for the children’s services. He’d given various donations to the local church and also the hospice at the next town over. He certainly appeared to be extremely generous.

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.

‘How old is the child?’

‘Two.’

‘That sucks.’

‘Can I go back to sleep now?’ Aiden asked, his eyes feeling heavy.

‘I didn’t even know we had an ex-playmate living here,’ Isla mused half to herself, half to her tired husband.

‘Maybe you two could be friends,’ Aiden muttered dreamily.

‘What?’ Isla screeched, instantly outraged.

Sighing, Aiden pulled himself up so that he was sitting and looked at his wife. His body groaned from being pulled from the sweet release of sleep so abruptly.

‘She’s an ex-playmate. I imagine she is glamorous. I know they used to live in the city so you two would have a lot in common, that’s all.’ He planted a kiss on Isla’s forehead to further placate her.

‘She might know decent places locally to get hair and nails done,’ he added, knowing that Isla was constantly aggrieved by the lack of professional beauticians close by. Or at least ones she deemed competent.

‘Hmm,’ Isla mulled on the thought. She had to admit it wasn’t the worst idea she’d ever heard.

‘I need to get to sleep,’ Aiden pleaded.

‘Okay, fine.’

They both lay back down and settled themselves in the darkness. Isla’s mind continued to flutter ideas around her head, preventing her from sleeping, but Aiden immediately dropped off and a lazy smile pulled across his lips.

He was dreaming, as he often did, of Brandy. She was on the beach, by the edge of the sea, playfully dipping her toes into the water. Each time she did, she would squeal girlishly at the cold. Aiden was watching her from afar.

The wind caught her blonde hair and whipped it around her head. She looked messy and carefree and devastatingly beautiful. Turning, she looked over to Aiden, a sweet smile on her face, and she beckoned him to join her in the water.

‘Come on in!’ her voice still held its soft, Southern lilt. She bit her lip playfully as she watched him which set his pulse racing.

Aiden moved to oblige, his eyes taking in the curves of her petite body in the green bikini she was wearing which glistened with an ethereal glow, as though she were a mermaid.

As he walked towards her, he was enticed by her gaze, by the sound of her soft laughter. He didn’t want to just play in the ocean with her. He wanted to kiss her, to hold her, to run his hands down her almost bare body. He wanted…

Aiden woke up suddenly, his breath catching in his throat. As his senses slowly returned, he realized that he was in a full state of arousal and beside him Isla was now fast asleep. He considered waking her and then sighed to himself. He was definitely too tired for that. Shaking off the residues of the dream, Aiden headed for the bathroom, wishing that he had not woken from such a pleasant fantasy.

*

The following morning the sun was shining brightly, basking Avalon in a sumptuous golden glow. It was hard to feel anything other than happy when the weather was so nice and the air so fresh. But Isla was not happy.

‘Another day with just a two year old for company,’ she moaned as Aiden drank his morning coffee.

‘You just need to make some friends around here, that’s all.’

‘I’ve tried and no one here wants to be my friend. No one here gets me.’

‘I’m sorry, hon, I’m sure you’ll meet someone on your wavelength soon enough.’ Aiden wasn’t paying that much attention to his wife as his mind was already at the office, thinking about the working day which lay ahead of him.

‘Aid, I’m lonely.’

Aiden sighed and placed his mug of hot stimulant down and gave his wife a steady, long look. He was as tired as she was lonely of being caught in the same argument. She didn’t like Avalon, he did. She had come because of him, had sacrificed the life she knew. But in his mind it was done now and she needed to at least try and make the best of it. From where he was standing, Isla seemed reluctant to even try, preferring instead to dig in her heels and just lament about how miserable she was.

‘Just give it time,’ he told her sternly, hoping the tone of his voice would encourage her to drop the topic for at least one morning.

‘I’ve given it time!’ she exclaimed angrily, not sensing his annoyance.

‘A couple of months is nothing. It can years to settle somewhere new. Be patient.’

‘Patient! Aid, I’m wasting away here!’ Isla bunched her hands into fists as she spoke and began to pace around the kitchen.

Aiden gestured towards their daughter who was happily eating her breakfast, oblivious to their heated exchange.

‘She is the sole reason we are here,’ he said. ‘Her wellbeing matters more than our own. That’s what happens when you become a parent. So next time you feel lonely, or isolated, or frustrated because you can’t get your nails done how you like them, think of our little girl and how much she is benefitting from being around you, from living somewhere without copious amounts of air pollution.’

‘Are you calling me a bad mother?’ Isla’s hands instantly moved to her hips as she delivered the accusation, glaring at her husband.

‘Jeez, no,’ Aiden sighed, regretting having tried to even make the point about Meegan’s welfare.

‘Because it sounds like you’re calling me a bad mother!’ Isla declared again, becoming confrontational.

‘Isla, no. You’re not a bad mother; I’m just suggesting you need to get some perspective on the situation.’

He rose up and went over to his wife and, placing his hands on her shoulders, bent down and softly kissed her cheek. Her body was stiff beneath his touch but loosened slightly when he kissed her.

He needed the argument to be over, for Isla to be in a decent mood when he left so that he wouldn’t come home to further animosity.

‘Meegan loves it here and you will too,’ he whispered soothingly and Isla managed to smile slightly.

‘So you don’t think I’m a bad mother?’

‘Of course not. You can just be a little self-involved,’ he added the last part lightly, as a tease, so she wouldn’t get wound up again.

‘Whatever, get out of here. Go earn the money to put bread on this table!’ Isla’s bad mood had passed and she was now appearing almost cheerful. She always looked so much prettier when she smiled. Aiden wished her temperament would allow her to do it more often.

‘See you later! Bye, princess.’ He kissed both his wife and daughter on their foreheads before stepping out the door and into the sunshine to commence a new working day.

*

Aiden drove through Avalon with his windows down and his radio on. The station he was tuned in to was playing a country song about loving someone who was with someone else. Though the lyrics were pained, the melody was upbeat and Aiden happily tapped along on his steering wheel.

He was in a good, possibly great, mood until he saw the flash of blue lights in his rear-view mirror, which was shortly after joined by the scream of a police siren which drowned out the radio completely.

Checking his mirrors, Aiden signalled and pulled over, unsure what exactly he had done to deserve being stopped. His music wasn’t loud, he had been well within the speed limit, there hadn’t been a stop sign he had overlooked.

He was still pondering on why he had been pulled over when he saw a familiar figure emerge from the police squad car which had parked up a few feet behind him. Buck Fern stepped out into the sunshine. A large Stetson shielded his eyes from the sun but he still squinted as he strode over towards Aiden.

Buck took his time walking over, taking arrogant, deliberate steps, as though he were taking some special joy in forcing Aiden to take time out of his day for him. Eventually he reached Aiden’s car and leant down to look in through the open window.

‘Morning, Mr Connelly,’ he drawled the words out almost as slowly as he moved.

‘Good morning, Sheriff, is everything all right?’

‘You’ve got a tail light out.’ Buck glanced to the back of the car.

Of course he had. Aiden inwardly groaned at not having noticed it sooner and thus preventing this awkward encounter.

‘I have? I must not have noticed. I’ll get that sorted out later today.’ Aiden answered politely.

‘There’s a good garage up near the turn pike,’ Buck offered, shifting his weight so that he was leaning against the car, clearly in no hurry to conclude their conversation.

‘Okay, thanks, I’ll check them out.’

‘Offer good prices too. Not that you lawyer types need worry about money.’ There it was. Aiden knew the old man would struggle to last five minutes without insulting him somehow.

Buck leant away briefly to spit on the ground and his breath suggested he’d been chewing tobacco.

Aiden wanted to leave, to drive off and get away from Buck Fern and his bitterness but he felt that the old man wasn’t done with him yet. That the out tail light was merely a front for something else he wanted to discuss.

‘I hear you’re working on my brother’s case,’ Buck said lightly, as though it were common knowledge around town.

Aiden had to give the sheriff credit; he’d certainly wasted little time getting to the point.

‘How do you know about that?’ He’d only just started work on the case so he was surprised word could have got round so quickly.

‘Nothing goes on in this town that I don’t know about,’ Buck replied arrogantly.

Aiden wanted to point out that, actually, an awful lot occurred in Avalon that Buck didn’t know about. Like horrific domestic abuse or priests who were driven to murder but then tried to let someone else go down for their crime. But he managed to bite his tongue and say nothing. Let the old man have his delusions of power and knowledge.

‘Besides,’ Buck added, ‘he’s my brother. We do talk, you know.’

‘So are you two close?’

The question bristled Buck, who physically stood more alert, as though alarmed at the suggestion that he and his brother were close.

‘We’re blood,’ he explained vaguely after a brief pause. It didn’t really answer Aiden’s question but he decided it was best not to pursue it further.

‘You need to take care of him,’ Buck told Aiden, his voice firm. ‘That woman has never been no good for him. He was blinded by her beauty. Some men are fallible like that,’ he gave Aiden a long look as though he were implying something more.

He knew what the old sheriff meant. He was referring, of course, to Brandy but Aiden refused to let it get to him, knew it was best to rise above the pettiness even though Buck was doing his best to illicit a response from him.

‘Even a man of God can be weakened by a beautiful woman,’ Buck continued. ‘And my brother is no exception. She’s ruined him.’

‘Ruined him how?’ Aiden asked, sure that Samuel Fern would have had nothing but gratitude for the Playmate who agreed to share his bed.

‘He spent so much money on her.’ Buck shook his head in disapproval. ‘She’s just a whore.’

Normally Aiden might be surprised by such a venomous description of someone’s sister-in-law, but from Buck Fern such hostility was to be expected.

‘How come you’re handling the case and not Copes?’

Clearly Buck’s brother had left out the part about how he had specifically asked for Aiden to work on the case.

‘He’s too busy to take on such a big case right now,’ Aiden lied, assuming it was best not to let Buck know about Samuel’s preference of lawyer.

‘I’d be happier if it were Copes working on it,’ Buck said bluntly, not caring at all for Aiden’s feelings.

‘I’m sure you would be,’ Aiden agreed, feeling the exact same way.

‘I trust him.’

‘And you don’t trust me. Great, I get it,’ Aiden was running out of patience. ‘If we are all done here, Sheriff, I really need to get on my way.’

‘Fine, fine.’ Buck backed away from the car. ‘Make sure you get that tail light fixed.’ Even though it wasn’t, it sounded like a threat.

‘Yes, I will do.’

Aiden watched Buck return to his squad car. His movements were still slow, as though he had nothing but time on his hands. It shocked Aiden how someone could have a role as important as sheriff and have no urgency to them. Perhaps it could be attributed to the small town mentality or maybe it was unique to Buck Fern.

When the squad car had left, no doubt to harass another unsuspecting citizen, Aiden started his own vehicle up again and continued on his way to work.

But something bothered him as he drove. It just didn’t make sense for Buck to have heard straight from his brother about the case, especially as Edmond had made a point about their poor relationship.

Aiden was certain that Buck had heard the news from another source, though who exactly he wasn’t sure. A cold feeling ran down his back, making his body icy despite the pleasant morning sun. It was hard to know who to trust in Avalon and, just when Aiden hoped he’d found his footing there, he still felt like an outsider.

Chapter Two

Father to Son

Aiden knew that he needed to visit and speak directly with Samuel Fern sooner rather than later but his encounter with Buck that morning had left him a little unsure of the whole situation.

‘Buck Fern stopped me this morning,’ Aiden told Edmond before the older man could settle himself down in his office chair.

‘That must have been pleasant,’ Edmond scoffed, rolling his eyes. ‘What did our wonderful sheriff want with you?’

‘He was asking about his brother’s case.’

‘He was?’ Edmond’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

‘He claimed his brother had told him about it.’

‘Really?’ Edmond seemed genuinely shocked by this. ‘I didn’t think they spoke much, if at all.’

Aiden watched his colleague’s reaction closely, satisfied that he was telling the truth and thus could not have been Buck Fern’s informant.

‘It makes me a bit uneasy,’ Aiden admitted. ‘I don’t want Buck’s involvement in this.’

‘No, no, I completely agree.’

‘He just seems to always be all over everything.’

‘Buck Fern is Avalon’s rash. You can scratch away at him but he never goes away, if anything, he just spreads himself further!’ Edmond vented, shaking his head in annoyance. ‘Your best bet is to go straight to the source. Go see Sam Fern on his ranch, assess the situation and what he expects from the case.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Aiden agreed. ‘Is he quite easy to gain access to?’

Past experience had taught Aiden that a richer a man was, the more elusive he could be.

‘I’m not sure. Probably best to ask Betty as she would have dealt with him in the past I’m sure, through her church group for charity events.’

Edmond pressed down on the intercom on his desk and it crackled to life.

‘Betty?’

There was a brief pause and then a response came, marred by static. Aiden struggled to see the need for the intercom. They would be better served by either installing an internal phone system or by physically leaving the office and walking the minimal distance to the communal waiting area and Betty’s desk.

‘Yes, Mr Copes?’ Betty asked, her voice further aged by the poor line of communication.

‘Could you bring us two coffees and we also need to pick your brains about something.’

‘I’ll be right in.’ Betty confirmed.

Edmond would no longer ask whether Aiden wanted a coffee. Working just the two of them, in such close proximity, he had soon picked up on his preferences and now they each intuitively knew when the other would be wanting some sort of beverage or snack.

Aiden knew that if he was popping out to lunch, Edmond would also be most grateful if he picked up something sweet from the bakery across the street. And though Betty would also protest an offered Danish or doughnut, eventually she would concede and agree to eat one, simply, she stated ‘to stop it going to waste.’

There was a nice atmosphere within the office. In there at least Aiden felt accepted and a part of something. He wished those feelings extended to the rest of Avalon, he just had to keep hoping that in time they would.

Barely five minutes had passed when Betty entered with a small tray, upon which were balanced two steaming mugs of coffee.

‘Thank you, Betty,’ Edmond beamed, suddenly wishing he’d requested a snack to accompany his drink.

‘Yeah, thanks, Betty,’ Aiden said as he got up and took his mug from the tray.

‘What did you want to ask me about?’ Betty enquired after placing Edmond’s mug down, now holding the empty tray by her chest like a shield.

‘Samuel Fern,’ Edmond told her bluntly.

‘Oh?’

‘How easy is he to get hold of? I mean, does he accept visitors? Do people just make appointments to go out to the ranch?’

‘Oh, um…’ Betty pondered for a moment. ‘I’ve only dealt with him through my church group,’

Edmond glanced over at Aiden when she said this, with an expression which said, ‘see, I knew she’d know something’.

Aiden had to admit that Betty was always an invaluable source of local knowledge. If ever Edmond didn’t know something, which was rare, Betty almost definitely would. Together, Aiden wagered there was nothing the pair of them didn’t know about Avalon and its residents.

‘We never went out to his ranch; it was more to invite him to functions. I think he had a secretary who dealt with that sort of thing. I will try and find her number if you like?’

‘Yes thanks, Betty, that would be helpful.’

‘Does his secretary live out at the ranch?’ Betty had made to leave, but Aiden called her back with his question.

‘I believe so, yes.’

‘Okay, thanks.’ Aiden wasn’t sure why it mattered where Samuel Fern’s secretary was based, he was just trying to put together a clearer picture of the man.

Betty left and Edmond surreptitiously made his coffee Irish which Aiden pretended not to notice.

‘So you’ve never had to deal with Samuel Fern before?’

‘Only his will,’ Edmond reminded him. ‘And he came here to do that. I see him on the golf course and we chat. He seems a nice guy, much nicer than his brother.’

‘Okay,’ Aiden nodded.

‘Although,’ Edmond now lowered his voice, ‘if anything happens with this paternity case, he will need to re-write his will.’

‘Oh. So is his wife due to get everything?’

‘The lot.’ Edmond said dramatically. ‘Her and the sons, obviously.’

‘Yeah.’

Aiden wondered about this. How could a man go from being so certain about a woman that he would leave everything to her, to wanting a paternity test to prove he had fathered her child? It seemed extreme to change your opinion of someone so drastically.

The intercom on Edmond’s desk suddenly came to life again, with Betty’s voice echoing out of it.

‘I’ve got that number for you,’ she informed them.

If the number had been for Edmond, Betty would have dutifully brought it in, however, since it was Aiden’s case, he would be expected to go and collect it from her. Betty still regarded Aiden as a new employee and, in her eyes, had yet to earn the level of respect she reserved for Edmond and previously his late partner.

‘I’ll go get it,’ Aiden said, momentarily excusing himself.

The air in the main waiting area felt fresh and light which made Aiden assume that Betty must have had the door open for some time. Outside the sun was still shining brightly so he couldn’t blame her for wanting to capture some of that beautiful weather indoors.

‘Samuel Fern’s secretary is called Rita Moore,’ Betty told him, handing him a Post-it note upon which she had written a number in her delicate cursive writing.

‘Right, okay.’

‘So if you call her, she can arrange an appointment for you to go and see him.’

‘That’s great. Thank you, Betty.’

Aiden glanced down at the number, thinking it strange for a man who had retired to need a secretary. Especially considering he’d been working in the oil industry, he was hardly a celebrity. It just seemed a bit extravagant, but perhaps Samuel Fern was. Aiden would soon find out first hand just what the man was like.

The office seemed stuffy after the freshness of the waiting area so Aiden opened the window closest to his desk. The air was warm and peaceful as it filtered in. Not like his old office, where you couldn’t open the windows as the sound of the traffic roaring past the building was so loud it would prevent you from working.

Edmond was now engaged with his own work so Aiden didn’t disturb him with further idle chat. Instead he dialled the number Betty had just given him. After three rings someone picked up.

‘Good morning, the estate of Samuel Fern, how may I help?’ came a sharp female voice.

‘Oh, good morning. My name is Aiden Connelly, I’m hoping to make an appointment to see Mr Fern—’ Aiden went to give further details but the lady on the phone cut him short.

‘I’m sorry but Mr Fern isn’t taking appointments at the moment.’

‘Ma’am, I’m his lawyer,’ Aiden explained.

‘What did you say your name was?’

‘Aiden Connelly.’

‘Just one moment, Mr Connelly.’

Aiden waited patiently as he was put on hold and made to listen to what sounded like whalesounds. He presumed it was meant to have a calming effect but it just left him feeling annoyed.

After several minutes the whale song ceased and Samuel Fern’s secretary returned, her voice noticeably softer than when she had originally answered.

‘Mr Connelly, Mr Fern would like to see you as soon as possible. Are you free this afternoon to come by the ranch?’

Aiden felt caught off guard at the immediacy of the meeting. He figured he’d get to see Samuel Fern later in the week, not so swiftly as thesame day.

‘Let me check my diary,’ he stalled for time as he checked his online diary, knowing full well that he was completely free. In fact the only thing in his diary was a reminder to collect milk on his way home.

‘If I move some things around, 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 it has a small black button and a speaker. Just press the button and wait for someone to speak to you. It’s the exact same model that Hugh Heffner has,’ she’d added proudly.

Aiden had wondered if Samuel Fern had installed it to make his wife feel more at home.

Glancing at a small protrusion of rockery which he assumed would contain the entrance rock, Aiden squinted in the bright sunshine to find the small black button. At last he spotted it and rolled down his window, allowing his left arm to be exposed to the fierce afternoon heat. He pressed the button and waited.

There was no crackle like there was with the intercom at the office. Instead a male voice responded, sharp and clear as though they were stood right beside him.

‘Can I help you?’

‘It’s Aiden Connelly, I’m here to see Samuel Fern.’

‘Come and park in the visitors’ area,’ the voice instructed as the strong gates began to slide open.

Aiden drove in to the complex and took in the true glory of the ranch. Although it now seemed redundant to call it as such as it was so much more than that.

Samuel Fern’s home looked like an old English mansion. It was massive, spreading far beyond what Aiden could see. There were full length windows lining the front of the building, easily more than twenty, above which were balconied windows and various terraces.

As Aiden parked up and took it all in he had a strange feeling that the building looked very familiar. He’d definitely seen something remarkably similar before. He waited for the memory to surface and then knew instantly where he’d seen the building before. It was almost identical to the Playboy mansion in California. Aiden felt a little shamed to know what the mansion looked like, but like any teenage boy he’d harboured a fascination with the place and had always dreamed of going there. And now he was getting to live out that fantasy, sort of.

Again, he wondered if the house had been built to the specifics of the Playboy Mansion to make Deena Fern feel more at home.

The front doors to the fortress opened as Aiden approached and a lady, who Aiden assumed was Samuel’s secretary, was waiting to greet him.

‘Mr Fern will be down momentarily,’ she informed him politely. ‘Would you care to wait in the library or, as it’s so nice, you could wait by the pool?’

‘By the pool sounds good,’ Aiden nodded.

The secretary began to lead him through the house towards the pool out the back. The interior of the home was just as extravagant as the exterior.

A sweeping staircase led to the upper levels, made of pale marble. The marble theme was continued throughout the home with marble floors and also various pillars. Expensive-looking antiques were dotted around; a vase here, a sumptuous painting there. The walls were painted a light beige so that the whole place felt open and spacious. It was a beautiful sight to behold.

As Aiden walked through, he noticed amongst the artwork were framed pictures of Mrs Fern during what must have been her modelling days. And then, as they were about to leave the main foyer, a framed picture of her spread in Playboy. Aiden immediately averted his eyes, feeling his cheeks instinctively flush.

There was certainly no speculation now as to whether or not she had been a Miss September and Samuel was clearly most proud of that accolade.

From the foyer they entered the vast kitchen, which was large enough to accommodate a hotel let alone a family home. Whilst equally impressive, with state-of-the-art electronics and dark wood complemented by granite worktops, this room felt more lived in. On the double-door fridge there were various pictures of what must have been Samuel’s sons, accompanied by children’s artwork, lovingly held up by magnetic shapes. Whilst the kitchen was still eye-wateringly opulent, it was nice to see the family element creeping into it.

Samuel’s secretary opened one of the six bay doors in the kitchen which led them out on to a terrace, beside which was the pool.

The pool was one lagoon after another, joined by slides or small tunnels. Surrounded by rocks, it managed to both blend in with the landscape whilst being an oasis. The dazzling sapphire water looked especially inviting in the dense heat as there was no breeze to take the edge off the sun’s penetrating rays.

Aiden surveyed the pool and thought how much Samuel’s sons must love it, which made him think how much Meegan would love it and he had a momentary pang of missing her. He could imagine her gleefully running up to it on her unsteady little legs, demanding to go in and impatiently allowing Aiden to put on her arm bands before she’d dive in with a surprisingly large splash.

‘Can I get you something to drink?’ the secretary kindly offered as Aiden sat down at a wrought-iron dining table under a pagoda. It was cooler in the shade but only slightly.

‘An ice tea would be lovely, thank you.’

She left and Aiden tried to focus on the job at hand, rather than gawping at the flagrant displays of wealth around him.

His drink arrived before Samuel Fern did, thankfully cool in a tall glass, adorned with a slice of lemon. It tasted amazingly fresh, Aiden should have known that a man as wealthy as Samuel Fern wouldn’t waste time with the store-bought stuff.

‘Mr Connelly,’ a deep voice called out to him from close by, and a man with more than a striking resemblance to Buck Fern came out of the kitchen towards him. He wore slacks and a short-sleeved white shirt which was unbuttoned slightly at the top. He had a thick covering of white hair on his head and the same flint-sharp eyes as his brother.

‘Welcome to my humble home.’ He laughed to himself at the humble part. Samuel’s voice had lost the Southern lilt which coated Buck’s, which could probably be attributed to a life lived away from Avalon.

‘You’ve a stunning place here, Mr Fern.’

‘Please, call me Sam.’

Sam sat down next to Aiden as the secretary reappeared to take his drinks order. ‘I’ll have a Tom Collins,’ he told her, waving a dismissive hand.

‘Did you find the place all right?’

‘Yes, no problem.’ Aiden nodded.

‘I appreciate you coming out here so soon. I’ve just got some matters which need sorting. I imagine Edmond filled you in, he’s a good man.’

‘Yes he uh…’ Aiden cleared his throat uncomfortably. He suddenly felt very awkward to be entering this home, this kingdom, where there were pictures on the fridge, to question the authenticity of it all.

‘He mentioned you have some…concerns about your younger son?’ Aiden lowered his voice respectfully as he spoke.

‘He’s not mine!’ Sam declared with frightening sincerity. ‘You need only look at him next to his brother; he’s not a Fern boy!’

Sam’s drink arrived and he eagerly took a long sip from it.

‘I just need proof,’ he told Aiden, his voice level, cold. It was obvious that Sam was prepared to be as shrewd in his private life as he had been in his professional one.

‘You don’t get to the top through making friends,’ Aiden’s mother used to tell him. And he saw what she meant, to hear Sam Fern talk so coldly about his wife and son.

‘So a paternity test?’

‘Whatever it takes.’

‘Will your wife agree to a paternity test?’ Aiden queried, thinking of the pictures, the framed Playboy image. The house, whilst overtly opulent, did appear to be full of love. But then appearances can be deceiving.

‘Probably not,’ Sam sighed. ‘She’s adamant the boy is mine, but I don’t buy it. You need only stand him next to his brother to see the truth of her indiscretion. I’m expecting you, as my lawyer, to handle this. I want that paternity test with or without her consent.’

‘I’ll certainly do my best.’ Aiden felt uncomfortable about going against the boy’s mother. He’d rather reason with her and see if he could get her to agree to the test, keep things amicable. No doubt if the son wasn’t Sam’s, things would get increasingly messy so he wanted to prevent causing further anguish within the family.

‘Marriage isn’t what it used to be,’ Sam Fern mused sadly. ‘When my parents got married, it was for life and they were genuinely committed to one another.’

‘You don’t think marriage is like that now?’ Aiden asked, sipping on his delicious iced tea.

‘Is it?’ There was something oddly knowing about the way Sam asked, which again made Aiden question just how close he was to his brother Buck.

And the question instantly made Aiden think of Brandy. He tried to push her from his thoughts and was grateful for the distraction when Sam’s secretary hurried over to them, looking concerned.

‘Mrs Fern is here,’ she said apologetically.

‘What the hell is she doing home already?!’ Sam scoffed angrily.

Aiden shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He’d rather not be present if a domestic was about to take place.

The sound of high-heeled shoes clipping against the marble kitchen floor proceeded Deena Fern’s entrance. As did the high-pitched squeals of young children.

The boys came running out on to the terrace first. Well, one ran, the other toddled in a style akin to Meegan’s. They eagerly came over to their father.

‘Daddy!’ the older of the two boys greeted Samuel Fern merrily. ‘We went to the store and bought baseball stuff.’

‘Baseball!’ the younger boy echoed happily.

‘Boys, you need to settle down. We have a guest,’ Sam gestured to Aiden and the two boys turned to stare at him with wide, questioning eyes.

‘This is Mr Connelly. Mr Connelly, allow me to present my boys. This here is Jude,’ the older boy politely extended his hand in greeting which Aiden shook, bemused at the formal gesture.

‘Nice to meet you Mr Connelly,’ Jude told him, his childish manner suddenly gone and instead a young man primed to inherit his father’s empire stood in his place.

‘And this is Davis.’ The youngest boy did not move to shake Aiden’s hand; instead he hid shyly behind his older brother at the sound of his own name.

‘They’re chalk and cheese,’ Sam said, casting an angry eye towards the now-hidden Davis.

Upon meeting Samuel Fern’s sons, it was evident that the two young boys could not be more different both in manner and in looks.

Jude was noticeably tall for his age and already had the look of a long, lean body. He had curly blonde hair and the same ashen eyes as his father. He was polite, courteous and seemed keen and alert. Jude was already displaying some of the traits he would have as a grown man and it was immediately evident that Sam Fern was very proud of his oldest son.

Davis seemed to have a shorter, stockier physicality. He couldn’t have been much taller than Meegan. His hair was dark brown and shone in the sunlight. And it was as straight as it was dark, sitting flatly atop his little head like a helmet. His eyes were almost the same colour as his hair; rich and dark. A spattering of freckles bought out by the sun were dotted upon his cheeks and despite his shyness he seemed playful.

In contrast, Jude’s skin was flawless. There was no denying that the boys really were polar opposites but that didn’t exactly indicate infidelity. Aiden knew plenty of siblings who were nothing alike, even those who were twins. But Sam Fern was adamant that something was awry.

‘They were playing up at the store so I had to bring them back early,’ Deena Fern called from inside the house as her clipped footsteps drew closer. She came out on to terrace, dressed suitably for the part of a millionaire’s wife.

She wore denim hot pants, twinned with a crisp white T-shirt and beige wedges which showed off her long, tanned legs. Her platinum-blonde hair cascaded down her back, pulled back by a pair of designer aviator sunglasses which she’d pulled up to reveal sparkling blue eyes.

Deena Fern still retained the beauty which had made her a Playboy centrefold. Her skimpy clothes emphasized her curves which, even after having two children, were impressively defined. She was tall, even without her shoes she’d easily have been close to six feet tall, making her taller than her husband.

Her face, whilst no stranger to the surgeon’s blade, was still stunning to behold but in the brash style that glamour models seemed to favour. Her eyes were framed by false lashes, her skin glistening from foundation and her lips a deep red from gloss. She was dressed to impress even though she was only taking her sons to the store. Men’s eyes would always follow her wherever she went, Deena made sure of it.

‘Deena, I have company,’ Sam told her curtly. Deena flashed a quizzical look at Aiden and then back to her husband.

‘I didn’t know you were having a business meeting today,’ she said sternly, as if annoyed at being left out of the loop with regards to his plans.

‘It’s not business.’

‘Baseball,’ Davis peered out from behind his brother to whisper the word to Aiden, and then promptly popped back in to hiding.

Aiden smiled. Both of the boys were adorable.

‘Can you take the boys inside?’ Samuel asked his wife.

‘But it’s so nice out,’ she objected, deliberately being difficult.

‘They can come out when my guest has gone.’

‘I promised them they could go in the pool.’

‘Well in an hour or so they can.’

‘It will be getting cool then.’

Samuel Fern closed his eyes and exhaled. He was clearly tiring of the conversation with his wife.

‘Take them in,’ he told her, exasperated.

‘You take them in; I’ve been with them all day!’ Deena was getting angry but there was something more in her voice, something hurt.

Aiden imaged that it had not always been so strained between them. The framed picture of her centrefold said as much. She was probably used to men doting on her, and Sam Fern had once done just that. But it was evident that things had changed, that the love within the home had cooled and it made Aiden sad to see two little boys, with innocence and purity in their eyes, get caught up in it all.

Jude and Davis had watched the interaction between their parents intently, their little heads moving back and forth as though they were spectators at a tennis match. They seemed uneasy to witness the dispute; it was not something they were apparently accustomed to seeing.

Usually in these sort of situations, the children would just carry on playing, as it was usual in their world to hear raised voices. But Jude and Davis looked fearful and alarmed by Sam and Deena’s dispute.

‘Take them inside,’ Sam Fern ordered his wife once more, his voice low and level.

‘You don’t spend enough time with them,’ Deena moaned, not caring about Aiden hearing this discussion. If anything, she seemed to enjoy having an audience as it was someone she could play up for.

‘Not now,’ Sam shook his head wearily. ‘Just take them in.’

‘Sam!’ Deena pouted angrily, her eyes narrowed as she pondered on how to further the argument.

‘Who is this guy anyway?’ she decided to turn her attention to Aiden but he shrank in to himself as he was pulled in to theconversation.

She regarded him with suspicious, hostile eyes. Scrutinizing him like he were an unwanted bug in her home and she was just deciding how best to get rid ofhim.

‘This is Aiden Connelly,’ Sam explained, his voice still low.

‘And who is he?’ Deena demanded.

‘My lawyer.’

Deena’s entire demeanour suddenly changed. Despite the warmth of the sun, she paled and almost shook within her bronzed skin, as though something had spooked her. She looked over to Aiden and he noticed the moisture which now misted her eyes.

She coughed awkwardly, trying to find her voice.

‘Jude, Davis,’ she managed to call her sons but she sounded strained, as though she was struggling to speak.

‘Let’s go inside while Daddy has his meeting.’

‘Pool!’ Davis whined, glancing longingly at the shimmering blue lagoon which he desperately wanted to play in.

‘You can go in the pool tomorrow,’ Deena told him.

‘Pool!’ the toddler pleaded again.

‘Davis Jeremiah Fern, get in the house this instance!’ Deena managed to raise her voice enough to be taken seriously and both her sons obediently left the terrace and entered the house through the kitchen.

Deena followed them, but before she went inside she paused and glanced over at Aiden. It was hard to read her face as she’d lowered her sunglasses to cover her eyes. It was as if she was going to say something but then decided against it.

She went inside and closed the patio door behind her, leaving Aiden and Samuel alone once more.

‘I apologize for that…display,’ Sam said before taking a long sip of his drink.

‘It’s quite all right,’ Aiden lied. It was the most uncomfortable he’d been in a long time. He just felt like he didn’t belong, that even sat in his own skin he didn’t seem to quite fit. There was nothing he disliked more than being present when couples fought. There was something so private about a disagreement between lovers and to bear witness to it felt like you were gaining access to the intimacies of their relationship.

‘Deena forgets her place sometimes,’ Sam continued, making excuses for what had just transpired.

‘If you give a woman everything she wants, you reach a point where she just thinks she is entitled to everything.’

Aiden wasn’t sure how to respond, it was hardly an issue he could relate to.

‘So as you can see, it’s not going to be easy to get her on board with the paternity test.’

‘She’s spirited,’ Aiden offered kindly.

‘She’s spoilt,’ Sam immediately corrected him. ‘I know I’m partly to blame but still…’ his voice broke off and he stared off into the distance, momentarily lost to his own thoughts.

Aiden felt that it was time to leave. He’d had enough dramatics for one day.

‘Well it’s been lovely meeting you,’ he began making the required motions for his exit.

‘Yes, you too,’ Sam said, smiling at him, but the smile didn’t extend to his eyes which remained hard and cold. Both men stood up and shook hands.

‘My secretary will show you out,’ Sam said, sitting back down as Aiden made to leave. ‘I’m sure you understand that I want to stay out here for a while longer. Give things a chance to cool down inside.’

‘No problem, see you again, Mr Fern.’

‘You too, Mr Connelly.’

Leaving the heat of the terrace, Aiden entered the pleasant cool of the kitchen which was eerily quiet. He glanced around for any signs of anyone but the entire room was empty. Relying on memory as Sam’s secretary hadn’t materialized, he made his way back to the foyer.

He could now hear distant sounds coming from the upper level which must have been Deena and the boys.

His footsteps clipped as he briskly walked along the marble floor, eager to leave.

When at last he was within the sanctuary of his own car, Aiden allowed himself to relax and shake off the stiffness of being in an uncomfortable situation.

He began to drive home, the large gates automatically granting him leave as he approached, asking no questions as if the fortress knew that all he wanted was release.

On the radio a country sang twanged out, this time about two men being in love with the same, unobtainable woman. Aiden mused over what had occurred at Samuel Fern’s home and what he dwelled upon, what he found most troubling, was how distressed Deena Fern had been upon learning he was Sam’s lawyer. She had gone from sassy and confident to meek and fearful in the blink of an eye. He wondered if she did have something to hide. Maybe Sam Fern’s instincts were right.

Looking up, Aiden noticed that the sky was no longer open and blue. Clouds had formed on the horizon and seemed to be closing in. As beautiful as the sunshine was, it couldn’t last forever. You need a rainstorm to wash everything away so that the next time the sun shines,the slate has been cleared.

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