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First To Fall. Carys JonesЧитать онлайн книгу.

First To Fall - Carys  Jones


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side of him would have welcomed the challenge of the chase, but the lazier side felt why run after what you already have, on a plate no less?

      ‘Hey there, champ!’ Edmond was at his desk typing away, surrounded by stacks of paper and three empty coffee mugs. He was clearly having a busy day. ‘How did it go at Eastham?’

      ‘It went well,’ Aiden said as he sat down and switched on his computer, ready to write up his report of his first meeting with Brandy. ‘Although…’ He stopped himself from going further. Edmond would surely think him a fool if he confessed to his mixed feelings about the case.

      ‘Although?’

      ‘No, nothing.’ Aiden waved his hand dismissively.

      ‘No, go on, son. You can talk freely here, you are amongst friends.’

      Aiden took a deep breath.

      ‘Brandy White, she is so, you know, small? And very well spoken. She even expressed her desire to see a priest. She just doesn’t fit the stereotypical role of a cold killer.’

      Edmond stiffened in his chair and locked eyes with Aiden. His face was set in a stern expression.

      ‘Brandon White was a good, decent man. A pillar of the community. Small she may be but her wickedness knows no bounds. I’ve no doubt she fluttered her eyelashes and pouted her big red lips. To look at, you would think she was the sweetest thing. Do not be taken in by her. She is beautiful, but deadly. Keep your distance.’

      Aiden was surprised by Edmond’s hostile tone and knew better than to push the conversation further.

      ‘You are right, of course.’ Edmond relaxed at this and his eyes drifted back to his computer screen. ‘I just need to do some more research on the case; I need to get more background on Mr. White.’

      ‘Well, you won’t be short of information around here. He’s a local hero, led his high school football team, the Avalon Angels, to win their first ever State Championship. It was wonderful. He attended church every Sunday without fail and worked for his father, Clyde, over at his timber company. He was Clyde’s only son, he has been in pieces ever since.’

      Aiden just nodded as he jotted down football, church and timber. He wanted to get a better idea of who Brandon was. Everyone in Avalon seemed to idolise him, but if he was such a great man, why would his young, beautiful wife kill him? If a story like this had occurred in Chicago the papers would have had a field day.

      ‘Was there a lot of media coverage on the murder?’

      ‘Oh, tons. The local paper, of course, and once word got out about what had happened more and more started turning up and asking questions. Things have died down a bit lately but I expect the media circus will come to town again around the trial. You best be ready, my boy. Once they get wind that you are her lawyer they will come sniffing round and asking questions. It is always best just to stay schtum.’

      ‘Yes, no worries, I won’t say anything to the press.’ He added newspapers to his list.

      ‘Good lad.’

      ‘Before I forget, my wife, Isla, would like to have yourself and your wife round for dinner one night.’

      ‘Oh how splendid!’ Edmond smiled ear to ear. ‘I’ll have a word with Mrs. Cope tonight. Although I should warn you, she does like a drink or two.’

      The clouds still hung heavy with the threat of rain when Aiden pulled into his driveway. He had spent the afternoon going over his notes and listening to the audio recording of his meeting with Brandy. He had assembled a number of questions for when he next went to visit the prison and was determined to find out more about her deceased husband, Brandon.

      The sweet smell of apple pie floated on the air and enticed his senses. He hoped that the delicious aroma was coming from his own home but did not want to get his hopes up as it would be completely out of character for Isla to bake.

      To Aiden’s delight, when he entered the kitchen he was greeted by a glorious pie sitting proudly in the centre of the table.

      ‘Well, well,’ he called out. Meegan came hurrying in to greet him, throwing herself clumsily into his legs for a hug.

      ‘Hey, tiny dancer.’ He scooped her up in his arms and noted how quickly she was growing and gaining weight these days. He was thankful to now be having the chance to savour each and every precious moment of all her too fleeting childhood.

      ‘Pie, pie!’ she squealed, pointing over at the table.

      ‘Yes, I can see a lovely pie. Did Mommy make it?’

      ‘And me!’

      ‘Oh, of course, and you.’

      ‘She helped crush apples,’ Isla informed him as she entered the kitchen.

      ‘Clever girl.’ Meegan was beaming with pride.

      ‘How was work?’

      Aiden set his daughter down and she ran off into the lounge. He admired the pie again and gave his wife an approving smile.

      ‘Well this is certainly nice to come home to. Makes a change from takeaway!’

      ‘The nearest takeaway is two towns over so you better get used to good old-fashioned home cooking!’

      ‘Work was good thanks, hun. Went to the prison, it was quite interesting. I can’t make her out.’

      ‘Who?’

      ‘The suspect. She seems, well, not like a killer.’

      ‘But she is though, isn’t she?’

      ‘Well, yes, she confessed.’

      ‘There you go then. Don’t go over-thinking it. Just enjoy handling a simple case.’ Isla began to lay the table for dinner.

      ‘So what delicacy have you whipped up for tonight?’

      ‘Macaroni and cheese.’

      ‘Oh.’ Aiden found it hard to conceal his disappointment at the meal which had been his staple diet whilst a struggling student.

      ‘I know, it isn’t the most exciting but the pie took forever. I’m still getting used to this whole Stepford Wives scenario.’

      ‘I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong. I love mac and cheese, and I know Meegan is crazy for it. Thanks.’ He went over and planted a kiss on her cheek.

      ‘So, what do you think?’ Isla stepped back from him and held her hands out expectantly, her face full of excitement.

      ‘So?’ Aiden was confused.

      ‘Come on Aid, don’t kid, you like it, right?’

      ‘Erm…’ He looked his wife up and down, unsure what the answer was she was looking for.

      ‘God, Aid!’ Her tone made it clear he had given a very wrong answer.

      ‘My hair, jeez! I had my hair done, remember? Shorter, new colour. God, you just live in your own little world, just like you did in Chicago!’ Her face was flush with anger, and now that she mentioned it, her hair did look a bit different.

      ‘Hey,’ Aiden was getting defensive, ‘there is no need to be like that. I’ve just got in; give me chance to get myself together.’

      ‘There was a time when you would notice something like that straight away!’

      ‘Well, excuse me for not being the most perceptive man in the world! Your hair looks great, Isla. Sorry I did not notice it the second you walked into the room. Maybe you shouldn’t have distracted me with the pie if you wanted to be the centre of attention!’

      ‘Oh, that’s right, I think it’s all about me.’ Her hands were folded across her chest, her eyes locked onto Aiden in a death stare and her voice was now eerily calm. He hated women’s mood swings. He hated arguing because he knew that whatever


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