Page 2 of Island Homecoming

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.

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