Island Homecoming is the firtst book set in my new favorite (fictional) South Carolina town! And it stars Jess, from the Ellington Cove series!
About the book:
Sometimes going home is the only way to heal…
Saving two innocent people from a deadly threat has scarred Jess Keller, heart and soul. So she’s leaving paradise for an assignment back home that she hopes will restore her inner peace.
But going home means coordinating with an unfamiliar security team while also facing her biggest regret: Nash Billings.
Nash is passionate about the island town where he was born and raised. Unlike Jess, he never longed to call anywhere else home. Unfortunately, she walked away from both him and their town and the heartache never faded.
Nash sees Jess’s return as an opportunity for closure, only to discover their passionate spark is stronger than ever.
Also the same? Jess running headlong into danger to protect others.
With threats mounting around them, Nash is determined to help Jess overcome the issues that brought her home. And he’ll do anything necessary to give them a second chance for true love and a future that fulfills their wildest dreams.
If you like romantic suspense with beach vibes, small town charm, unexpected danger, and a second chance romance, you’ll love Island Homecoming!
Sneak Peek!
Chapter 1
You can never go home again.
The old adage echoed in Jessica Keller’s mind. It haunted her with every passing mile as she drove north. And she really hoped it wasn’t true.
Because she’d left the place that had felt like home for the past eight years. But she couldn’t stay. Not in Key West. Not when she broke out in a cold sweat when it was time to dress for work. She needed a change of pace.
Needed a safe place to heal.
No point sugar-coating those facts.
It had been thirty-two days since the justified shooting. But who was counting? She’d handled her desk duty, per protocol, and met with the psychologist, per the required schedule. Her friends in Key West treated her as if nothing had changed.
Maybe it was true—for them.
She knew better. Every night, she closed her eyes and saw the face of the man she’d been forced to kill in the line of duty. She’d pulled the trigger to save lives, just as she’d been trained to do. And yet nothing about it felt normal or justified.
Nothing would ever be the same.
Logically she understood how it had unfolded. Understood she’d drawn her service weapon and taken aim at a man intent on killing others. She accepted—gratefully—that she’d been cleared of any professional wrongdoing.
And still she wrestled, hour by hour, with the feelings swirling inside her. Grief and dismay and a pervasive anger that nothing had convinced that man to stand down.
Vic Jenkins, her mentor and partner, had gone out of his way to help her put it in perspective. Helpful and kind, he kept assuring her that she’d level out with time. “You saved at least two people, likely more,” he’d reminded her. “Focus on the wins, on those lives.”
She’d tried. Hell, one of those lives saved had been her friend. The world would certainly be worse off if Jess hadn’t taken action. The big win? Her friend was now planning to marry an incredible man.
Jess believed in Vic’s experience, trusted his assessment, and she’d still elected to take a leave of absence. The sunlight seemed to dim a little more each day, leaving her feeling as if she was caught in a perpetual fog bank.
Worse, for the first time since her graduation from the police academy, she didn’t want to be a cop. She’d lost the drive, the calling.
And if she wasn’t a cop, who was she?
She couldn’t go back on the job feeling this divided. It wouldn’t be safe for her partner or the community.
Driving always calmed her nerves, gave her mind time to wander and process. So here she was. With any luck, this road trip would help her reconcile all the ragged bits of herself. If nothing else, two long days of driving would surely cure her of all this introspection. There had to be a time limit on how long a person could stay in their own head without coming to a progressive conclusion.
Or maybe that was just her.
Jess thrived on taking action. She evaluated and weighed variables, but when she made a decision, she didn’t look back. Taking the shot was one example.
Going home was another.
She’d wanted out of the small town where she grew up, so she made a plan. Took the steps to make it happen. And while many people wouldn’t consider the Florida Keys a thriving metropolis, it was bigger than where she’d been raised.
And the constant flow of tourists kept things fresh, kept the police sharp.
The tires on the highway started to lull her into a haze. Combined with the warm late-afternoon sun She knew it was time to pull over and stretch her legs.
She had chosen back roads for this stretch of the journey just to enjoy the scenery as she worked her way up the Eastern seaboard.
After winding her way through Florida’s bigger cities, across the expanse of green dotted with blue lakes, the terrain gave way to towering cypress, oak, and pine trees along the swamps and marshes of coastal Georgia.
The sights and smells were so familiar and she hoped to eventually find comfort and rest for her mind and heart.
A billboard advertised a truck stop at the next exit and Jess fidgeted in her seat. Rolling her shoulders, she anticipated a break from the hours behind the wheel.
At the truck stop, she pulled up to an open gas pump and filled the tank. She used the time to rest her eyes, glancing around the area. She checked the ads in the windows, considering what kind of snack she wanted for the next couple of hours on the road. She figured she could get in another hour at least before dark. Maybe all the way home. Although rolling in to her parents’ place in the middle of the night would be disruptive.
A night in Charleston wouldn’t be too awful and then she could take her time in the morning. She still had to come up with a valid excuse to give her parents.
Leaving her car at the pump since business was light, she walked into the store. She plucked a bag of trail mix from the rack on her way back to the drink cooler. Taking a bottle of water, she was contemplating the wisdom of a soda when she heard a loud smack behind her.
There was no mistaking that sound of flesh striking flesh. Turning, she saw a woman cowering and holding her cheek. A man with greasy hair, a ragged beard, and a heavy beer gut loomed over her.
Jess didn’t think, seeing the fear on the woman’s face, she just stepped in. Smiling, she asked, “Hey, you two okay?”
“We’re fine,” the man barked. “Tell her everything’s fine.”
The woman’s gaze flitted up to Jess and away. “We’re fine,” she mumbled from behind her hands.
No red flags here. “All right,” Jess kept her voice light. “If you need anything, just say the word.”
“You deaf?” He aimed his big belly at Jess. “She said she’s fine. Get the hell out of here.”
“Sure thing.” Jess backed up a step. “Thing is, I have first aid training if you want me to check her out.”
His fist came up, arm coiled and ready to strike.
Jess held her ground. The man swung. She blocked the blow and countered. No thought, just muscle memory from hours of instruction and practice. He crumpled to the ground, screaming. Rolling to his back, he wrapped his hands around his knee. All that extra weight around his middle had toppled him at the worst possible angle. Too bad. Jess was more concerned about the woman.
“I’m a police officer,” she said. “I can help you.”
Shock on the woman’s face gave way to worry. She knelt at his side, fussing and making soothing noises to the bastard who’d just hit her. Looking up, her eyes wet, tears streaking her face, she cursed at Jess.
“We need an ambulance,” she wailed over the man’s continued screaming and cussing. “Someone help us.”
Jess’s gut knotted. She knew better than to insert herself into domestic disputes. Those situations were dicey enough when someone requested police presence. Instead of helping, she’d just kicked over a hornet’s nest.
“I called 9-1-1!” the clerk called from the end of the aisle.
Jess took a breath and inventoried her surroundings. If asked to give a statement, she could be clear about what she’d heard, what she’d seen after she turned.
A security mirror was mounted in the corner, offering a good view of what had happened back here. Above it was a camera. She spotted another camera in the opposite corner. Assuming the cameras were in good working order, there would be multiple angles of the man striking the woman.
“You realize your temper and abuse were caught on camera?”
He continued groaning while the woman fussed and smoothed back his hair.
It made her sick. “Ma’am, if you need to press charges, I can help you.”
“Leave us alone,” she said, her voice cracking. She stretched across the man, tears rolling down her face and dripping onto his shirt.
Jess managed not to roll her eyes at the absurd and uncomfortable performance. Her stomach twisted in on itself. Watching bullies manipulate their victims drove her up a wall, and yet she’d seen firsthand that forcing a victim to break the pattern usually backfired.
All Jess could do now was wait it out. Leaving didn’t seem like the responsible option at this point.
Flashing lights flared on the other side of the glass windows and a moment later, a sheriff’s deputy walked into the store. Tall and lean, Jess pegged him as late twenties. How much experience did he have? Another vehicle, siren blaring, was closing in fast. Probably the ambulance.
“Where’s the problem?” the deputy asked the clerk.
“This way.” The middle-aged woman pointed down the aisle at Jess and the couple on the floor.
Jess endured the grumpy assessment from the deputy. “I’m Deputy Miller,” he said. Apparently convinced she wasn’t about to cause more trouble, he focused on the couple, a frown creasing his brow. “Paramedics are on the way. Are there any open wounds?”
“N-n-no.” The woman choked on another wave of sobbing.
“Deputy—” Jess began.
He cut her off with a hard look. “You’ll get a chance, ma’am.”
So maybe there was more experience under that youthful exterior after all.
He crouched down, putting himself eye level with the woman Jess considered a victim. “Can you tell me what happened, Linny?” His tone, cool and professional, didn’t hide his familiarity with the couple.
“She attacked us.” The woman flung an arm toward Jess, nearly clipping the deputy’s chin. “We were just buying beer.”
Nerves crept along her skin. Jess wanted to protest, but she held her tongue while the woman—Linny—fabricated an outrageous story that painted her abusive partner in the best possible light and the handprint on her cheek as a result of Jess’s aggression.
Holy cow. Linny sounded as if she believed her tale. If the cameras weren’t working, Jess was in trouble.
The paramedics rushed in and Miller guided Jess and the woman away from the man on the floor, keeping them separated.
“I’m a police officer,” Jess said. “I won’t give you any trouble.”
Miller glared at her and then glanced over his shoulder. “Too late. You’re under arrest.”
Jess felt her mouth drop open. “You’re making a mistake,” she said, her voice low. “Please check the cameras. Talk to the clerk.”
Linny heard it anyway and launched into another round of absurd accusations.
“I know my job,” he muttered. “Mistake or not, we’ll sort it out at the station,” Miller said. “Turn around, now. Hands behind your back.”
“Is that really necessary?” she asked even as she complied. “I’m a police officer.”
“Are you carrying a weapon?” He started patting her down.
“No, sir.” She didn’t point out that her snug denim shorts and the form-fitting t-shirt would’ve emphasized a concealed weapon rather than hide it. She supposed she should be grateful he left the cuffs a bit loose.
“What about my car?”
“We’ll have it towed,” he replied easily. Did this kind of thing happen often? “Nobody will mess with it,” he assured her.
She wished she could believe him. “When do I get my phone call?”
He took her elbow and marched her out of the store. “At the station,” he said. “Careful now,” he advised, opening the back door for her to slide in.
It was a short trip to the sheriff’s station, a relief for Jess with her hands cuffed and what she considered the mild injustice of riding in the back. The station was modest, the building dated, but inside was clean and modern. Miller removed her cuffs as soon as they rounded the tall reception counter. He guided her to an empty desk, one of three in the big square room.
Jess was impressed when the first thing he did was verify her leave of absence from the KWPD. And more impressed when he grabbed a notepad and pen. “Tell me your side of that mess,” he directed.
She walked him through what she’d heard, her attempt to intervene, and how she’d defended herself at the convenience store.
When she was done, Miller shook his head. He reviewed the notes and asked a couple more questions to clarify.
“You don’t seem surprised,” Jess said.
“I’m not. Linny won’t leave him and Pritch won’t stop hitting her,” Miller admitted. “I’ve got an email here,” he nodded toward his open laptop. “Paramedics tell me the victim decided to file charges against you.”
Jess kept her mouth shut but she couldn’t stop the eye roll.
“That means I have to put you in a cell while I go talk to him. Likely overnight—”
“I understand what that means,” she said. She was stuck until a judge decided on bail. “When do I get my phone call?”
“Now.” He moved the desk phone closer to her. “Do you need privacy?”
“No.” She stared at the device for a moment, wishing she’d minded her own business. Domestic squabbles were the worst.
“Do you need me to look up a phone number?”
“No.” She swallowed. There really was only one option, and she knew the number by heart. The phone rang twice and then her friend Gabby Ladd-Marino answered at the special security office of the Ellington Cove resort.
“Hey, Gabby. It’s Jess. I need an attorney.”
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.” Gabby’s question was a great reminder that despite the current struggle, Jess had wonderful friends.
“All right. I’m gonna need the whole story,” Gabby said, her voice relaxing. “Where are you?”
“In Georgia.” Jess provided the location and a quick rundown of the situation.
“I’ll get on it.” Gabby promised. “Gamble and Swann will know what to do.” The law partners managed the agency that had teamed up with the Cove for an innovative and effective security partnership.
“Thanks for the assist. Hey, if it looks like I won’t be out of here in time to make it home for Sunday dinner, can you give my parents a heads up, please? They’re expecting me.” Her first dinner at home in nearly two years. She couldn’t dwell on that right here and definitely not in front of the deputy.
“Sure thing,” Gabby promised. “Hang in there.”
Jess replaced the handset and looked to Miller. “What’s next?”
He smiled rather sheepishly. “You can tell me if you want a chicken sandwich or a burger for dinner.”
She did a double take. “Seriously?”
He spread his arms wide. “We’re not a big station. No cafeteria, but prisoners need food. We’re not barbarians.”
Prisoner. Jess couldn’t help laughing at the ludicrous predicament. At least the deputy seemed like a decent sort. “I’ll take the chicken.”
“With sweet tea or a Coke?”
“Sweet tea, no lemon. Please,” she added.
“All right.” The deputy smirked, at her or the situation, she wasn’t sure. “Let’s head back to lockup.”
A few hours behind bars in a clean cell that was obviously rarely used wasn’t the worst thing. Gave her time to think, though she’d rather do just about anything else. Miller dropped off her dinner and got called out again. She’d resigned herself to a night in the cell, thinking about how much crap Jenkins would give her for this, when the deputy returned.
“Time for dessert?” she asked.
“Ha, ha. Your attorney is on the phone.” He unlocked the cell, held the door wide. “Come on out to the desk.”
She appreciated that Miller didn’t bother with handcuffs, clearly trusting she wouldn’t do something stupid like run or attack him. Being innocent, the situation required patience, that’s all. Eventually the security cameras would back up her statement and this could be over.
Miller pointed to a chair and she sat, picking up the phone. “This is Keller.”
“Hello, Ms. Keller. I’m Nolan Swann. I wanted to reach out directly and assure you we have this inconvenience under control. The owner of the convenience store is cooperating, gave us access to the security videos. Naturally, the video evidence backs up your version of events.”
“Great.”
“Miller should get word from the judge to release you shortly without bail. It’s not over, but close enough.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what close enough meant. If the video backed up her account, wouldn’t the charges be dropped entirely? Not the point right now. Right now, she just wanted to get back on the road.
“I hope ‘close enough to over’ means I can afford the bill,” she joked.
“Obviously there won’t be any charge.” Swann said.
“What? Seriously?” That hadn’t been so obvious to her.
“You’ve helped our team in Ellington Cove on numerous occasions and we’re happy to show our appreciation.”
“You’re welcome?” She posed it as a question. She’d done her job, that was all. She was a cop, committed to the community.
Swann continued, “I do have one favor to ask. Whether or not you agree, nothing changes about the way we handle your situation here.”
“Okay.” Jess glanced toward Miller, wondering how closely he was listening. It would be hard not to hear her side of the conversation in a station this small, especially when it was deserted.
“Gabby tells me you’re headed to South Carolina. Back home for a little bit.”
“That’s right.”
“We just picked up a request from the local police department in your hometown. They made a large, unexpected drug seizure and need help with the security on site.”
The island police department had always been small and never a big hub for drug trafficking. Not like Key West. “The state hasn’t taken control?”
“Not yet. The authorities want to keep the contraband where it is. Hoping to draw out the smugglers on the route so they can work their way up the food chain.”
“I see.” Despite her passion for criminal justice and law enforcement, it had never been her goal to be a cop in her hometown. Brookwell Island was too small and there were too many personal ties. Not unlike the small Georgia town she was stuck in right now. Everyone thought they knew all the details about each other.
Most of the time they did.
And what they didn’t know, they were willing to fabricate. She’d fallen into that trap herself, inadvertently bringing trouble down hard on a friend she cared for deeply. She’d considered it an invaluable experience and had learned to do better. Although refusing to jump to conclusions now didn’t rectify the damage she’d done. A lingering pain she carried with her.
“What do you need?” She’d agree to just about any request because Swann was getting her out of a sticky situation much faster than she could do it on her own.
“Once you reach Brookwell, please check in with Chief Caldwell. He’ll have instructions for you.”
“All right.” She smiled to herself. Reed Caldwell had been the police chief as far back as she could remember. Down-to-earth and soft-spoken, his commitment to the community and his practical insistence on hearing out both parties in every conflict had inspired her love of police work. “Does this make me a Guardian Agency protector?”
“Gamble and I think we’ll probably settle on something along the lines of ‘temporary consultant’ if that works for you.”
This conversation made it clear why her friends at the Cove were so proud of their ties to this agency. Gamble and Swann ran an efficient group, one rooted in compassion and anchored by good leadership. “Yes, that works for me. Thank you, Mr. Swann.”
When she was cut loose from the sheriff station about an hour later, Jess got on the road and didn’t stop until she crossed the state line into South Carolina. At the first rest area, she found parking and hunkered down for a good nap. Her parents were expecting her and she wouldn’t let them down. As she reclined her seat and confirmed her doors were locked, she promised herself that on her way back to Key West she’d spend at least one night at the renowned Ellington hotel in downtown Charleston.
Get your copy of Island Homecoming now!