“Like speeding?” Kara asked.
“Especially speeding because there’re no stop signs or traffic lights on the island.”
“I noticed there are no posted speed limits.”
Jeff’s right eyebrow lifted a fraction. “Do you see that as a problem?”
“It smacks of entrapment, Jeff.”
He leaned closer. “How’s that?”
“Just say I’m stopped for going thirty miles an hour, and you tell me the speed limit is twenty when nowhere on the island is it posted that the limit is twenty. You hit me up for a hundred dollar—”
“Two hundred,” he said, interrupting her.
Kara’s jaw dropped. “Two hundred dollars? That’s excessive.”
“So is speeding,” Jeff countered. “We don’t have drag racing or hit-and-runs.”
“What about DWI and DUI?”
“Those fall under Charleston PD’s jurisdiction.” The small walkie-talkie clipped to his shirt collar crackled. “Please excuse me,” he said, then took a backward step, his gaze meeting and fusing with Kara’s before he turned his back.
Kara stared at the width of Jeff’s broad shoulders, his trim waist and hips. He’d admitted to having been military, and his ramrod posture validated his claim. She didn’t know whether he was married or involved with someone, but there was something about Jeffrey Hamilton that reminded her of what she’d been missing: male companionship.
She’d told Dawn that she was too busy, tired, or stressed out to deal with a man, when in reality she hadn’t met one who could hold her interest. She’d accused her roommate of being Mother Teresa, wanting to house and feed the homeless, when she could’ve become a spokesperson for Save the Children. Her supervisor had cautioned that she was too involved with some of her clients, but Kara’s mantra was “No child will fall between the cracks on my watch.”
Glancing at the time on her cell phone, Kara knew if she didn’t cross the street to see the other shops, it would be dark before she returned to Angels Landing. She’d just stepped off the sidewalk when a large hand around her upper arm stopped her.
“Where are you going?”
She glanced over her shoulder to find Jeff’s gaze riveted on her face. “I’m going to check out the shops across the street. I plan to head back to Angels Landing before it gets dark.”
His fingers tightened, then fell away. “You probably won’t have much time to look around. You can follow me back to Angels Landing, and I’ll bring you back tomorrow and introduce you around.”
Kara wanted to tell Jeff she didn’t want to meet anyone; she wanted answers about Taylor Patton. And if anyone knew everything about anyone on the island, then it would be the sheriff.
For a long moment, she returned his stare. There was something in his entrancement that ignited a tingling in the pit of her stomach. “Okay.”
Reaching for her hand, Jeff led her to the parking lot, waiting until she was seated and belted in. “I’ll head out first.”
Kara wagged her finger at him. “No speeding.”
He flashed a white-toothed smile. “Just try and keep up.”
Her eyes grew wider when she registered his veiled challenge. “Please close my door.”
He bowed from the waist. “Yes, ma’am.”
Starting up her car, Kara waited for the Jeep to maneuver out of the parking lot, she following close behind. When he’d said for her to try and keep up, she knew he would exceed the unofficial island speed limit. The Mercedes’s speedometer hovered close to forty miles an hour as she stared at the taillights on the vehicle in front of hers.
Palmetto Lane came up so quickly Kara hit the brakes to keep from passing it. Jeff tapped his horn, she tapping hers in response. He sped off while she drove on the sandy road under a canopy of live oaks, draped with Spanish moss. Angels Landing came into view at the end of the allée, her breath catching in her throat. Waning sunlight reflected off the columns in shimmering shades of rose-gold.
In that instant Kara wondered how different her life would have been if she’d grown up in this house? Would she have viewed things differently if Taylor Patton had raised her instead of Austin Newell?
She parked the car, got out, and walked around to the door that led directly into the kitchen. She made it to her bedroom without encountering Mrs. Todd or her husband Willie. Picking up her cell phone, Kara stood at the window as she tapped speed dial. Her mother’s sultry drawl came through the earpiece.
“Hi, baby. What time should your daddy pick you up at the airport tomorrow?”
Kara closed her eyes for several seconds. “I’m not coming in tomorrow.”
“What’s going on, Kara?”
She knew she had to choose her words carefully. “Mama, I need you to answer one question for me.” Kara had decided not to wait for a face-to-face encounter with her mother to ask her about Taylor because she knew it would nag at her for the week.
A beat passed. “What is it?”
“Why didn’t you tell me Taylor Patton was my father?”
Jeannette gasped. “Who told you?”
“Mama, please. Was he my father?”
“I can’t talk now.”
“When can you talk?” Kara asked.
“Not over the phone, Kara.”
Kara knew by her mother’s evasiveness that she’d validated David’s claim that she was Taylor’s daughter. “Is Daddy there with you?”
“Yes.”
It was obvious her mother didn’t want to talk about Taylor in front of Austin. “I’m not coming to Little Rock.” She told Jeannette that she’d committed to staying on Cavanaugh Island for at least a week. “Can you get off and come here?”
“Right now I’m short staffed. Two nurses called in today with the flu. They’re going to be out at least a week.”
“Can you come here next week?”
“I’ll try, baby.”
Kara pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “You don’t have to explain anything until you get here. But I need to know now. Yes or no?”
The seconds made a full revolution before her mother said, “Yes.”
Walking on shaky legs, Kara sat on the padded bench at the foot of the bed. “Thank you, Mama.”
“It’s not what you think, Kara.”
“I’m not judging you, Mama. I just needed to know the truth.”
“I love you, baby.”
“And I love you, too. Let me know when you’re coming, and I’ll meet you at the airport.”
“You take care of yourself.”
“You, too, Mama.”
Kara ended the call filled with a powerful relief that she knew the truth. She would now be able to face whatever challenges came her way with new objectivity. And knowing she was Taylor’s daughter gave her the ammunition she needed to handle her newfound relatives’ threats and intimidation.
Chapter Three
Jeff had always been a light sleeper, so when he heard the distinctive ringtone he woke, reaching for the cell phone on the bedside table. Glancing at the clock, he moaned softly. It was 3:48 in the morning. Turning on the lamp, he punched a button.
“Hamilton.”
“I’m sorry to bother you, Jeff, but I have a situation down here at the station.”
Groaning under his breath, he ran a hand over his face. “Is it a situation or an emergency, Kenny?” Jeff had hired Kenneth Collins to replace a part-time deputy who’d remarried his wife, then relocated to Orlando to be close to their grandchildren.
“It’s a situation that will soon be an emergency. Patty Calhoun called because her ex showed up drunk and threatening to kick down the door if she didn’t let him in. I arrested him because of the restraining order.”
“Where is he?”
“I locked him up.”
“Did you call Charleston PD and tell them to pick him up?”
“Yes.”
“Then what’s the situation?” Jeff asked.
“Patty’s here pitching a fit because she
doesn’t want her man to get locked up. And Jimmy’s threatening to kill himself if I don’t let him out.”
Throwing an arm over his face, Jeff cursed softly. “She should’ve thought of that before she took out a restraining order. Make certain there isn’t anything in the cell he can use to hurt himself.”
“What about Patty?”
“Tell her to go home or you’re going to lock her up, too. Is that her screaming?” Jeff asked when he heard a screeching sound.
“Yeah.”
Lowering his arm, he sat up. “Put her on the phone, Kenny…. Patty, this is Sheriff Hamilton.” Normally he would’ve introduced himself as Jeff, but right now he and Patricia McFarland weren’t former classmates. She was a resident of Sanctuary Cove and he sheriff of the island.
“Yesss,” came her tearful reply.
“Where are your kids?”
“They… they’re at home.”
“Are they home alone?”
“Yes… but—”
“But nothing, Patty!” Jeff practically shouted. “You left your kids home alone to follow a man who beats you on a regular basis. Either you get home and take care of your kids or when the Charleston police come for Jimmy I’ll have them pick up your kids, too. Both you and Jimmy will have to stand before a judge. You for abandoning your children and he for ignoring the order to stay away from you. It’s your choice. Let me know now what you plan to do?”
There came a pause. “I’m going home.”
“Don’t play games with me, Patty.”
“I’m going home, Jeff. I swear.”
Jeff hated playing the bad guy, especially with someone he’d grown up with. Life hadn’t been kind to Patty. She’d grown up with an abusive alcoholic father and had found herself in the same situation when she married a man like her father.
“I’m going to give you five minutes to get home; then I’m going to call your house. If one of your kids answers the phone, then I’m coming to arrest you, but not before I call child protective services to have them remove the children from your home.”
“Please don’t, Jeff. I’m going home now.”
“Put Kenny back on the phone.”
He heard muffled voices before his deputy returned. “She just left, Jeff.”
“Give her ten minutes to get home, then call the house,” he ordered. “Call me right away if she doesn’t pick up.”
“What are you going to do if she doesn’t pick up?”
“I’ll call CPS and have them put her children in foster care. Between Patty and Jimmy, those poor kids are going to be messed up.”
“I hear you, boss,” Kenny intoned.
“How’s Jimmy?”
“He’s quieted down, but I know he’s going to start up again when they come to get him.”
“It won’t matter because he’ll no longer be our responsibility.”
“You’re right, Jeff. I’m sorry to disturb you, but you have a better relationship with the people on the island than I do.”
Sliding back to the mound of pillows supporting his shoulders, Jeff smiled. “That’s because I grew up here and you didn’t.” His smile faded as quickly as it appeared. He was scheduled to be off for the next two days, hoping his deputies would be able to handle whatever came up until his return. “Good night, Kenny. Or should I say good morning?”
“Good morning, Jeff. I’ll try not to call you again.”
“You do that.”
He ended the call, turned off the lamp, and readjusted the pillows. Threatening to remove Patty’s children from their home reminded him of Kara. As a social worker she’d been entrusted to protect children from situations that threatened their safety.
Jeff had consciously tried not to think about Kara, but the image of her face and body lingered around the fringes of his mind when he least expected it. When his cousin had called to ask him to check on Taylor Patton’s daughter, to say he was shocked was putting it mildly because he along with others who’d spent their lives on Cavanaugh Island believed Taylor didn’t have any children.
Although Jeff had spent twenty years in the corps, returning home whenever he had leave, he knew if Taylor had fathered a child, he definitely would’ve heard about it only because there were very few secrets on Cavanaugh Island. And he knew not to ask David how he’d learned that Taylor had a daughter because his cousin would’ve claimed attorney-client privilege.
Resting his head on folded arms, he closed his eyes and attempted to go back to sleep, but it proved elusive. Reaching for the television remote, he turned on the flat screen and began channel surfing, passing numerous infomercials until he found a sports channel. The Super Bowl was over, baseball’s spring training had begun, and the NBA and NHL seasons were in full swing. Jeff would be the first to admit he was a rabid sports fan, becoming an armchair spectator only because South Carolina did not have a professional sports team. He always took his dinner hour at Jack’s Fish House just to watch the televised games on the many flat screens installed at the island’s popular restaurant.
He muted the sound, turned on the closed caption feature, staring at the images until he felt his eyes closing. When he woke hours later, the television was watching him, and Jeff felt more tired than he had when he’d gone to bed and turned off the TV.
Bright sunshine filtered through the blinds at the windows, threading its way over the hardwood floor. Sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he walked on bare feet out of the bedroom and across the hall to the bathroom. The first thing he’d done once he returned to Sanctuary Cove was to have an architect draw up plans to expand the house by adding a first-floor bedroom, bath en suite, and sunroom for his grandmother after her cardiologist cautioned her about climbing stairs. Corrine had pouted whenever he carried her up and down the staircase until the renovations were completed; then her attitude changed once he suggested they go into Charleston to shop for furnishings to decorate her new living quarters.
It had become role reversal when he looked after his seventy-nine-year-old maternal grandmother much like she’d cared for him after his mother died in childbirth. Corrine had become mother, father, and grandmother, and after his grandfather passed away, she’d also stepped into that role. She’d been forthcoming when it came time for her to tell him about sex. She was emphatic about his using protection whenever he slept with a woman and cautioned him about using women just to relieve his own sexual urges. What had surprised Jeff was he was more embarrassed about the discussion than his grandmother. Always taller than the boys his age, he hung out with older boys, most of whom were sexually active and proud of their exploits and conquests. However, his respect for the woman who’d raised him outweighed that of his peers, and he was discriminating and very discreet whenever he’d become involved with any woman.
Jeff did what he’d always done on his days off: yard work. He mowed the lawn, raked leaves, and bagged everything for the weekly trash pickup. His grandmother had voiced her concern whenever he opted to stay home with her instead of going out with a woman, fearing he would go through life alone. At forty he wasn’t as concerned about marriage or fathering children as he was about taking care of the woman who’d sacrificed so much for him.
He’d been back a year, and his love life was nonexistent. There were single women on the island, but none had interested him. He’d found them shallow, immature, and gauche, unlike the women with whom he’d been involved when he was stationed in the States or abroad. Jeff had had two serious relationships—one that had prompted him to propose marriage—yet at forty he was still a bachelor. There was a time when he’d looked forward to marriage and becoming a father, but lately he’d reconciled to the possibility of that not happening in his immediate future. This didn’t mean he wasn’t looking for a woman with whom he could have a comfortable ongoing relationship. He just wasn’t sure if he’d found her yet.
Twenty minutes later, dressed in sweats, Jeff walked into the kitchen and kissed his grandmother’s cheek. “Don’t
you know how to sleep late?”
Corrine patted his stubble. “It’s your day off. Don’t you know how to sleep late?”
He smiled tenderly at the tall, thin woman with smooth skin the color of café au lait, tugging gently at the silver curls hugging her scalp. There were a few lines around her eyes whenever she smiled. “Remember, I have to clean up the yard.”
“The yard can wait until next week, Jeffrey.”
“No it can’t, Gram. Then I would have twice as much to do.” He only called her Gram whenever they were together and usually referred to her as Grandmomma when speaking of her to others.
Corrine filled a mug with freshly brewed coffee from the blue enameled pot on the stove, handing it to him. “What else do you have to do on your days off? You get up the same time as when you’d go to the station, you work in the yard, and then you come back inside and watch every game imaginable on that darn idiotic box.”
Jeff cut his eyes at her. “Would you prefer I go to a bar, pick up women, guzzle beer, and chomp on peanuts all day?”
“No. I’d like you to find a nice young woman to marry and give me a few great-grandchildren before I die.”
“Please, Gram, don’t start on that again.”
Corrine pushed her hands into the pockets of the bibbed apron covering a floral shirtwaist dress. “You gave up something you loved for me, son.”
“And you gave up your life for me, Grandmomma!” Jeff shouted. “I’m sorry about raising my voice,” he apologized when her jaw dropped. “You had the chance to marry again after Grandpapa died, but you didn’t because you didn’t want to put a man ahead of me.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth. “I overheard you when you were talking to Miss Dean about Mr. Hawkins wanting to marry you, and you said I came first in your life.”
“You were eavesdropping on grown folks’ business?” Corrine asked accusingly.
Opening the door to the stainless steel refrigerator-freezer, Jeff removed a container of cream, poured a dollop into his mug, then replaced it and closed the door. His grandmother had also balked when he updated the kitchen with top-of-the-line appliances, complaining that she liked her old stove. He’d also bought a single-cup coffeemaker that she refused to use, declaring her enamel pot made better coffee. How, he mused, would she know that when she hadn’t drunk coffee for more than a year?
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