Can't wait till release day?  Book 3 in my latest romantic suspense series, The O'Connells, is coming soon, but you can grab a sneak peek of THE SECRET HUSBAND today!

He says he’s innocent, and he needs her help. 



Her first response is to say no, but Karen knows Jack isn’t the kind of guy to ask for help from anyone, especially not from the ex-wife he openly despises and hasn’t seen in years. She knows there must be more to the story—but what she doesn’t know is that the mysterious circumstances surrounding the murder could be the reason their hasty marriage ended so badly.


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Chapter 1

Although some couples bragged of Friday date nights filled with romance and dinner, followed by extremely hot sex, Karen O’Connell’s Friday nights unfortunately consisted of a quiet, darkened office, a shot of whiskey, and the locked drawer in her desk that only she ever went into.

She stared at the names on the files that filled the drawer, names that were meaningless to the masses but left her reaching for the bottle of whiskey she kept tucked in the back, a single short lead-cut crystal highball glass, and a green velvet ring box. The drawer was a constant reminder, like an albatross around her neck, of everything wrong with her life.

At the same time, she only ever opened it on Friday nights or whenever she needed to add yet another file from a case where she hadn’t gotten the win her client deserved. It was a drawer that, she supposed, if she had to put a label on it, symbolized sorrow, heartache, pain, grief, anger, every sickening emotion that seemed to encompass what the legal system was becoming more and more as of late.

These were the kinds of defeat and sorrow she didn’t share with anyone. How could she? Right and wrong seemed so unfair, leaving her filled with such anger, a trait in her that others considered unreasonable. At times, people compared her to a pit bull, not understanding what really drove her. But considering the names on these files all came with faces that haunted Karen every night when she closed her eyes, this was a fight she couldn’t figure out how to win.

Why did she do this to herself? If she were like every other lawyer out there, she’d have told herself she’d done the best she could, that this was just the nature of her job, and to move on. But to Karen, these lost cases were lives that had been destroyed—mothers, daughters, fathers, brothers, husbands. They were each someone’s child, and every one of them had been on the wrong side of the crapshoot called justice. Being on the other side left Karen feeling so damn helpless.

She lifted the short glass and downed another swallow of the two fingers of whiskey, her secret indulgence, one no one in her family knew about. She kicked off her pumps, letting her bare toes dig into the carpet, and swiveled around and leaned back in her chair, taking in the two large windows that looked out at the darkened downtown.

Just then, the phone started ringing, and she did what she always did on Friday night: ignored it and let voicemail pick it up.

She waited until it stopped ringing before she settled into the vibration of the bass from the downstairs bar, welcoming the distraction. In that second of near silence, she lifted the glass and took a swallow, relishing the burn and then letting out a sigh. She turned back around, taking in the pile of files and seeing Reine Colbert’s on top, her most recent case. As she opened the file and took in everything, the angst of it had her wishing she could have done more for a woman she felt had been screwed by everyone. She lifted the bottle, seeing it was half full, and poured another two fingers just as her cell phone lit up.

“Persistent, aren’t they?” she said to no one as she took in the caller ID. It was Owen, her brother, who’d been more of a father to her—to all of the siblings, even though he’d been just a kid himself—than their own dad, whom she’d loved more than anything but who had decided to fuck off one day without even a goodbye to any of them.

Her hand hovered over the red decline, but at the same time, Owen was the one who never called. She answered. “Any chance that was you who called the office a second ago?”

“So you are there,” he said. “Is that how you answer the phone?”

She didn’t pick up her cell phone but left it on the desk, leaving the speaker on. Her brother’s voice seemed to hold an edge. “It is when someone’s phoning and bugging me when I just want to be left alone.” She swirled the amber liquid, welcoming the burn as she made herself close up Reine’s file. Under it was Lawrence Green’s, another sad case, one of her first where the defendant ended up doing time for a crime she knew, deep down, he hadn’t committed.

“I guess that answers my question as to where you are. Was just at Marcus and Charlotte’s new place, setting up Eva’s bunk bed. We just picked it up. Everyone’s there except you. Suzanne said you’ve got some standing appointment on Fridays, and Ryan said he’d heard that too, but then, as everyone was talking about you, which you know we all do, things just didn’t jive. I know you stay at the office every Friday night, but doing what? That, I haven’t figured out yet.”

She couldn’t help the amusement that tugged at her lips even though she felt like crap, considering Owen was a plumber, not a detective. “You spying on me?”

He said nothing for a second, and she wasn’t sure what she heard in the background. “Don’t need to. Generally, I just know what you’re doing, what you’re thinking, where you are, and when something is off with you. The fact that your office light is still on…”

She turned in her chair, feeling the hair on the back of her neck spike. “Uh…where are you?” She stood up, going to the window and looking out and down on the street, where her brother’s plumbing van was parked out front.

Owen was standing there on the sidewalk, looking up and giving her a wave. “Let me in,” he said. “Your door’s locked.” Then he hung up.

“Shit…” she said under her breath.

There was something about him tonight. On the phone, Owen hadn’t sounded like himself. She wasn’t in the mood to talk, but she rested the glass on the desk with the files and hurried barefoot to her office door. After pulling it open, she took in the empty desk of the receptionist she still needed to hire and strode to the stairs, down the dirty wood steps, which needed a sweep and a wash.

Her brother was looking at her through the commercial glass. She’d see what he wanted and send him on his way. Owen was dressed as he always was, blue jeans that had seen better days and a T-shirt, always appearing as if he’d just been at a jobsite. She, meanwhile, was still in her navy dress.

She flicked the lock, and he pulled the door open and somehow maneuvered her back as he stepped in, flicking the deadbolt behind him. He was the same height and build as all her brothers, tall and broad shouldered, and he had the same O’Connell blue eyes as all of them, but at least he’d shaved.

“Drinking alone?” Ah, so he could smell it.

“And working…” she started as she crossed her arms, taking in the way he looked down at her before starting up the stairs ahead of her. “Where are you going?”

“Upstairs, to your office,” he said, and she hurried after him, wanting to stuff the files back in the drawer along with the whiskey, which was sitting open on her desk.

“Hey, Owen, just give me a second to clean up…” she said as she raced around him to her door, not having to turn around to know he was right behind her.

“You have a new client or case coming up?”

She reached for the bottle and screwed the cap back on, not missing his expression, the way he was taking in her desk, the files, the bottle, everything.

“Wow, single malt, strong, bold. You can pour me a glass,” he said, not waiting for her answer.

Her brain was still trying to come up with a story that sounded reasonable as she watched her brother make himself comfortable in the chair across her desk, where every client who came to her for help sat. Owen, though, lifted his sneakered feet and rested them on her desk, crossing them. His gaze took in the files again, and she couldn’t help feeling as if he were seeing into her secret, private self, which she showed no one.

She just held the bottle and took in the glass on her desk, then the washed empty mug that had held her coffee that morning. She poured a splash in the mug and took in his gesture for more.

“Bad day?” he added as she handed him the mug before sitting down in her chair and lifting her own glass.

She considered what to say, resting her hand on the files as Owen’s gaze locked on to hers. Of course, he could see the names. She had a thing for big bold print on file tabs.

“Same as any other,” she finally replied and settled her glass back on the desk. She gathered the files and stuffed them back into the drawer along with the bottle of whiskey, then closed it and turned the key, which was still in the lock. She pulled it out and rested it on the desk, taking in the way her brother was watching her.

“You know you did the best you could,” he said. “No one could have done more than you. Give yourself a break. So is this you punishing yourself? I don’t get it.”

She didn’t say anything for a second, then took in the smile that really wasn’t a smile on her brother’s face as he lifted the mug and downed the rest of the liquor. The way he pulled in a breath, she knew he too relished the burn.

She went to say something, then decided against it, lifting her glass and swirling around the amber liquid. “So what are you doing here?”

Owen rested the mug on her old scratched desk and took his time looking around her office. “Truth? Checking on you, considering what happened to Reine Colbert. I knew you took it hard, and everyone was wondering about you and how you really are. This looks like a Friday night pity party.”

She froze, listening to the tick of the clock on the wall above the file cabinet, which held cases and clients and documents that didn’t carry the same emotional baggage that her drawer of sorrow did. She flicked her gaze up and took in the intensity of her brother’s gaze. Okay, so he knew, maybe?

“Ah…” was all she could get out. She sat back in her chair, hearing the woosh. “Pity party.” She tried to conjure up something profound, but nothing came.

Owen just lifted his hand and waved, that same motion he had used with all of them, growing up, when he wanted them to stop whatever bullshit was about to come out of their mouths. How in the hell had he ever managed to step into the role of their father? He’d been just a teenager, sixteen.

“You think I didn’t figure it out some time ago?” he said. “This Friday night thing, this ritual you have…” He gestured to her desk, her glass. “Drinking whiskey and staying at the office—doing what, I wasn’t really sure. I have to wonder, from those old case files on your desk, if that’s part of it.”

“What do you think you know? Seriously, Owen, every good lawyer looks at those lost cases because that’s what makes you get better. You’re being ridiculous. So what if I’m here, working?” Her bare feet hit the floor, and both her palms were flat on the desk.

Owen jabbed a finger to her glass. “You’re drinking the hard stuff that you never drink.”

“Who else knows?”

He raised a brow, always the silent observer. “Well, I had an idea. Pretty sure Luke does too. I know Suzanne has wondered. Marcus and Ryan…” He just shrugged. “They’re wrapped up in their stuff. Every Friday night you make some excuse, yet I see the lights on in your office, and I figured out the whiskey thing because Marcus mentioned he spotted you leaving the liquor store with it. Suzanne said she’s seen you leaving the office late on Friday night a couple times when she’s been out on a call, and you walk instead of drive. We all know when you’ve been drinking. Luke said we need to give you space while you figure out how to deal with a bad loss, because we know how personally you take your cases. You seem to forget I listen to everyone and put the puzzle together. Guess I just don’t understand why you put yourself through it.”

There it was. Her secret was unraveling. How could she explain to anyone when she didn’t understand herself?

“Is it too much for a little privacy in this family?” she said, reaching for her glass and leaning back. She turned her chair to the side as she took another swallow.

“Karen, Karen, Karen, you should know better. Privacy in our family? You forget, I’ve been watching your back for how long? As for the whiskey thing, don’t worry. No one in the family would believe you drink it. Marcus likely thought you were picking it up for someone. This pity party, you looking at those cases or whatever you’re doing, no one else has figured it out.”

“But you have.” She turned to her brother, who ran his hand over his face.

He was handsome, a catch, yet he was as single as she, Luke and Suzanne were. The one that they all depended on, Owen was only a few years older than they were, yet he had been a father to them all. Maybe the day their father left was the day she’d decided to hide everything she was thinking and feeling. Every man who’d ever said he loved her had turned his back on her and walked away, except her brothers.

“Yeah, always had my eye on you,” Owen said. “The trouble you’d get into… Your prickly personality pushes everyone away, and at times you just can’t help but make things difficult for yourself, with the way you’d scrap with Mom, with anyone and everyone. You need to let those cases go. You did more than anyone could do.”

“They got a raw deal, Owen. You know, when I went to law school and then started practicing, I never realized law is just a different version of poker, a game of chance, where your life is in the hands of someone who doesn’t know who you truly are. It’s a toss of the dice, all up to whether the DA got laid the night before, or is fighting with his wife, or has profiled you because of the color of your skin, or because you’re poor, or because you’re a woman, or because you didn’t come from a good home, a good neighborhood, or because you pissed off the wrong person, because, because… I could keep going. Racial and social profiling are things everyone does, but at the same time, you’ll never get a judge, DA, or defense lawyer, never mind your average person out there, to admit they do it, because then they’d have to admit that this broken system doesn’t work, and everyone’s preconceived ideas about people and situations are in fact what should be on trial.”

There she went, on a roll. She wasn’t sure, by the way her brother cocked a brow, whether he was about to mock her, scold her, or tell her to get over herself.

Instead, he pulled in a breath. “Wow, you really are stuck in a dark place. I hope this isn’t a place you go often, as it’s not helping you or anyone and can make you bitter.”

The way he said it felt so much like a scolding that she wanted to snarl.

He held up a hand. “You think I don’t know all that? Of course I do. I saw the closed doors Mom faced, even though no one else did. But give yourself a break, Karen. It’s the way the world works and always has. You’re making a difference, and you need to start looking at what’s working instead of what isn’t. This dark place your head is in isn’t doing you any good.”

He gestured to her desk. “I know all those cases you’ve lost stick with you. If you had been any other lawyer, though, it would have been far worse for them. Reine Colbert would have gotten a lot more time, Lawrence Green would’ve been in a supermax in another state, where his family couldn’t visit, Janine Baker wouldn’t be up for parole next month, with a chance to reunite with her family, and Matt Wilky would never see the light of day again instead of having the chance of parole in fifteen years, all because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“You want me to go on? Yeah, those cases sucked, and I saw how you took what happened personally after each one. But no one could have done better. It was a crapshoot for them anyway. You think I don’t know how you see a part of yourself in those cases that everyone else calls a lost cause? So how about you start telling yourself that you give a damn, and you did what you could, but it’s not all on you?”

She just stared at her brother. “Is this a pep talk?” She settled her glass on the desk, crossing her legs again, leaning back. “Because, in case you didn’t get the memo, I’m a big girl and can look after myself.”

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself, then so be it, but you’re still my little sister, and a pain in the ass, too. You always did take things way too personally. You can’t fix everything for everyone. Sometimes you’re just going to have to tell yourself that you did all you could, and that’s the best that can be hoped for. Life isn’t always fair, Karen. It can suck sometimes, too.”

She didn’t know why, but the way Owen said it had her leaning forward on the desk, really looking at him. He never said anything about what was going on in his life. Instead, he was always steady for all of them.

“You okay there, Owen? You know, I’m getting the feeling something is going on with you. You know you don’t always have to be the one who carries everything for everyone else. You know you can tell me—” she started just as the office phone rang. She stared at it, and so did her brother. Damn the interruption. Who the hell was calling now?

“You going to answer that?” he said.

Well, Owen showing up here had ruined her melancholic Friday night alone time anyway. She hadn’t even had the chance to settle into the files, which were back under lock and key. She let out a sigh and reached for the phone.

“So who is it?” Owen said. “Mom, Suzanne, Ryan, Marcus…?”

She pressed the phone to her ear. “Karen O’Connell. The office is now closed, so unless this is really—”

“Karen.”

It was his voice. Deep, dark. It sucked her right back into that girl who had been nothing in his shadow. For a second, she had to remind herself to breathe. She somehow managed to turn her chair, because she couldn’t let Owen see how rattled she was. No freaking out.

“Are you there?” he said.

She breathed out, having to reminder herself that she hated this man, that he’d once called the cops on her because she wouldn’t leave him be. His was a voice she’d never forget. Her heart was pounding. “Yes, I’m here. Why are you calling?”

Owen was listening, she knew.

“So you know who this is?” the man said.

Of course she did. What was it about the voice of Jack Curtis, the first man she’d ever loved, the one she’d married, who’d broken her heart?

“You know what?” she said. “This really isn’t a good time for me, so if you don’t mind…” She went to turn around and hang up.

“Wait, don’t hang up. I need your help. And you know I wouldn’t call you unless the situation were really…dire.”

She didn’t have to turn in her chair to know her brother was more than listening to everything she was saying—and everything she wasn’t. She lowered her voice. “What I remember is that I’m not supposed to be talking to you. You made sure of that with the last set of cops. You’ve made your feelings for me very, very clear, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to hang up now.” She started to turn around again.

“Wait, Karen, don’t hang up. Look, I’m sorry, but I’m in trouble—the kind of trouble that has me calling the last woman I would expect to help me.”

“No, you look. I don’t know what this is or what kind of trouble you’re in, but let me remind you clearly of your words to me: You hate me, you want nothing to do with me, ever, and you never want to hear from me, talk to me, or see me again. In other words, I was and am very much dead to you, and—”

“I’m in jail,” Jack said. “I’ve been charged with murder. I didn’t do it.”

She found herself staring at the phone for a second before putting it back to her ear.

“So if you could put everything aside, please,” he said, “because I need your help.”

She just lifted her gaze to the ceiling and leaned back in the chair, very aware of how her end of the conversation likely sounded to her brother.

“Hello, Karen, are you there?” he said. “Don’t talk. Just listen. This is my one phone call. I’m in Sweetwater County Jail, and I’m stuck here until I go before a judge Monday morning. You know what that means.”

“Why me?” She let out a sigh.

“Because there’s something else you don’t know,” he started. She thought she heard someone in the background. “Look, I’ve got to go. Please, Karen, just please, show up.”

The line went dead, and she pulled the phone from her ear before turning her chair around and setting the receiver back in the cradle. It took her another second to ground herself enough to look at her brother. His confusion was in his expression.

“You want to tell me what that was about?” Owen gestured to the phone and settled his feet back on the floor, not pulling his gaze from her. “Sounded to me like trouble. You in trouble? Something happened? Who aren’t you supposed to contact? You know I can call Marcus…”

She found herself shaking her head. “It’s someone I haven’t heard from in years, something that ended badly. You know that one person you never want to hear from, and then they call? Well, he called because he just landed in a shitload of trouble.”

Owen didn’t seem convinced. “Sounded like more than that, Karen. You may as well just tell me, because I’ll figure it out.”

She took in her desk, the empty glass, and her brother, who didn’t seem too interested in moving. “That was my husband,” she said. “He’s apparently in jail. I haven’t talked to him in years. He hates me, and I hate him. He called the cops on me, got a restraining order. Things ended very, very badly, and I never expected to hear from him again, but hey…” She gestured to the phone as if that explained everything. She could honestly say she’d never seen Owen appear so shocked. He didn’t wear it well.

“Right, good, glad to have this talk,” she said. “So, since you’re struggling to find something to say, let me help you. You’re right to think I didn’t tell anyone I got married. I hid it from all of you. At the time, it was a stupid-ass thing to do, a time in my life when I was doing stupid-ass things. Is there more to the story? Yes, absolutely. If you could just keep this little bombshell to yourself…”

Owen exhaled and looked around for a second as if trying to understand what she’d said. “I think you’d better start at the beginning,” he replied. “And this time, Karen, don’t leave anything out.”

Now, as the head deputy for the Livingston sheriff’s office, he knows everything about everybody, and no one can pull anything over on him. It’s why he’s such a damn good deputy. But even Marcus dreads what cops know as the third call.

When Marcus takes the call the first time, he thinks it’s a prank. The second time, he knows there’s a problem. The third time the call comes in and is patched through to him, he knows it’s something he can’t ignore. The only thing is, the girl is terrified and keeps hanging up, and Marcus knows someone is in the house with her. 

Where are her parents, and who is this mysterious girl who needs his help?

THE THIRD CALL is available at your favorite digital stores:

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"This was such a beautifully emotional yet sassy story...The connection between these two is amazing and the way they talk to each other shows how much they mean to each other. I loved this brief look into their lives. Very entertaining and sweet!" ★★★★★ Rabia T., Readers' Favorite

GET YOUR AUDIO ON

Here's your final peek at my upcoming release!    THE THIRD CALL will be released tomorrow, but here's an exclusive look at Chapter 5! ​

Now, as the head deputy for the Livingston sheriff’s office, he knows everything about everybody, and no one can pull anything over on him. It’s why he’s such a damn good deputy. But even Marcus dreads what cops know as the third call.

When Marcus takes the call the first time, he thinks it’s a prank. The second time, he knows there’s a problem. The third time the call comes in and is patched through to him, he knows it’s something he can’t ignore. The only thing is, the girl is terrified and keeps hanging up, and Marcus knows someone is in the house with her. 

Where are her parents, and who is this mysterious girl who needs his help?

THE THIRD CALL (The O'Connells, Book 2) is available for pre-sale at:

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Chapter 5

His phone was to his ear, and he kissed the dirt. He was pretty sure Tommy had walked back into the house and slammed the door. In that second, Marcus felt as if he was holding the fate of everyone in the palm of his hands. He hadn’t fired back when he knew anyone else in his position likely would have.

Ryan answered on the first ring. “What the fuck was that, Marcus? Is he shooting at you?”

“Yeah, he’s got a pistol. Listen, don’t drive in here. He saw your lights. You see my cruiser, where I’m parked? Stay on back there.”

“I parked. What kind of nutjob you got in there? What the hell are you walking in on, Marcus? What’s this guy’s story?”

Marcus made his way to his feet, crouching down, taking in the house, which was dark except for the little light he could see through the curtains. “Just trying to find out. All I know is there’s a little girl inside who called 911 for help. Where are you right now? I’ll make my way back to you.” He was still behind the truck, feeling the bite of the bushes against him.

“Don’t bother. I’m already here.”

He spotted the flick of a flashlight in the bushes behind him, about ten feet away, and pocketed his phone. Ryan cut through an opening from a path he hadn’t known was there. His brother wore a ball cap and his ranger coat.

“What’s going on here?” Ryan said.

Marcus holstered his gun, which he’d somehow reached for again instinctively. He could feel his adrenaline pumping as he tried to pull this situation together. “Not sure,” he said. Just then, his phone rang with the sheriff’s office number. “Charlotte.”

“Marcus, are you okay? I heard a gunshot and the line went dead. I think he found Eva in the house. Is anyone hurt?”

“I don’t know. My brother’s here now. It appears Tommy has gone back into the house. I don’t know what’s going on inside, but keep trying to reach Riley, because I want him out here. I’m going to try getting this guy back on the line and find out what the story is, at least see if I can somehow get the mom and daughter out of the house and out of harm’s way. I don’t know if this is a kidnapping, a domestic dispute of some kind, or something else, but what I do know is there’s a scared little girl in there. Right now, I want you to get Tulli to pull records on this place and find out who owns it, who Tommy is, everything and anything.”

“Will do, Marcus. I’ll call you right back.”

He pocketed his phone and took in his brother, who had picked the perfect spot to eyeball the house.

“Well, this isn’t sounding good,” Ryan said. “You have no idea who this guy is?”

Marcus shook his head, knowing the properties out this way had changed hands a time or two over the last number of years. They were so spread out and isolated. He didn’t know what to say. “No, no idea at all. The little girl is only able to tell me that his name is Tommy, and her mom is inside. It sounds like he brought them here. Don’t think the mom really knows him. Something has gone wrong, and now they’re both fucked. You familiar with anyone out here?”

He pulled out his cell phone again and pulled up the number for the burner cell. He hadn’t wanted to call before because it would give Eva away, but now it was a moot point, considering it was the only way to talk to the guy inside.

Ryan looked around and gave his head a shake. “None whatsoever. Can’t remember coming out here for any problems, either, but that doesn’t really help you does it? A lot of these properties aren’t locals, you know. They’re summer folks. But some cabins have been in the family forever and such.”

Marcus knew that much, which also didn’t help. He dialed the number of the burner cell and put it to his ear. “Guess there’s only one way to deal with this: get him back on the phone and talking and find out his story.”

His brother said nothing, but Marcus knew he had his back. He listened to the phone ring a second time, then a third.

“What!” Tommy snapped, his deep voice filled with anger and amped-up energy. He was well on his way to ensuring someone ended up dead.

“Tommy, don’t hang up. This is Deputy O’Connell. I’m outside and just want to talk. Is everyone okay inside?”

“Did you not get the message? Get the fuck out of here, cop. You’re not wanted. You’re not welcome.”

Okay, so he didn’t like cops. That wasn’t the first time he’d heard that.

“I can’t do that, Tommy. You got a scared little girl in there. Is Eva okay?” He stared at the front door from where he was on the path. Ryan had stepped out a little farther and was watching the house as well.

“You think I would hurt a kid?” Tommy snapped.

Marcus wished he’d come outside. He wished Riley would answer the damn phone and get out there as well to back him up. More and more as of late, he’d been feeling as if he was the only one running the sheriff’s department in a place where it was impossible to be a one-man show.

“Didn’t say that, Tommy. I just want to talk to you. Is Eva okay?”

“She’s fine, although the little shit took my phone and was playing around with it. She knows better.”

He knew his brother could hear what Tommy was saying by the way he dragged his gaze over to him. Marcus couldn’t hear anything or anyone in the background. “Look, she’s scared. I don’t want Eva hurt. I just want to know if she’s okay, and her mother. How about you send them both out? The last thing anyone wants is for anyone to get shot or hurt in any way.”

“No, I’m not sending them out,” Tommy said. “It’s late. She should be in bed, asleep. Her mother can put her to bed. Everything’s fine here. They’re fine. You can go.” There it was again, the dismissal.

“Afraid I can’t do that, Tommy. You see, as soon as someone calls 911, we have to come out and make sure everyone is okay. How about you let me in the house and let me see that everyone is okay, and we’ll all sit down and talk and find out what the problem is, and if it’s the case that everyone is fine, then I’ll be on my way.”

There was also the matter of the gun he’d fired off, though. Marcus didn’t think he was getting anywhere near the story he needed.

“Hey, I’m telling you everyone’s fine here,” Tommy said. “Reine, what the hell? You keep that little shit in line, you hear me?”

Now he thought he heard a woman’s voice in the background.

“Hey, hey, Tommy, how about this?” he said. “You come outside and talk to me and tell me what the problem is in there. Let’s talk face to face.” He wanted to step out, but Ryan had his hand on his arm and shook his head.

“No, I’m not coming outside. For all I know, you’ve got someone out there just waiting to take me out with a single shot as soon as I step out, just because. I told you everything is fine here, the girl, her mother. They’re fine. They wanted a place to stay. I gave her a place to stay.”

He still didn’t know anything about the situation, and he wasn’t getting any direct answers. “So this is your place, Tommy? What’s your last name? We ever met before?” Namely, he wanted to know if he’d ever arrested him, if he’d ever done time. He’d have remembered.

All the man did was laugh, and it wasn’t reassuring. “Yeah, I know what you’re doing, trying to find out anything you can about me. I did my time, served my country, and this is what I get? I’ll tell you what, Deputy. I pay my taxes. I gave everything, but what did I get in return? Nothing. I was just another idealistic, wet-behind-the-ears kid. Didn’t understand what the hell I signed up for. But I’m not that way anymore. Now I just want you to leave me the fuck alone.”

So he had served—in the military, army, marines, navy? It was a start.

“You were in the military? What branch? My brother’s in the military. Sounds like it didn’t work out for you?” For a minute, he thought Tommy was going to hang up, but he didn’t.

“You want to talk to the girl?” he finally said instead. “She’s right here.”

He felt that knot in his stomach again as he pictured the phone being passed over to Eva. There was definitely something more to the military angle.

“Deputy O’Connell?” she said.

“Yeah, Eva, I’m right here. I’m right outside. Are you okay?” He shut his eyes for a second and felt his knees weaken.

“I’m okay, but I’m scared.”

He wasn’t sure what to say. “Is your mom there? Is she okay?”

He pictured Eva nodding, but he could hear Tommy saying something to her.

“You’ve talked to her, and now you hear she’s fine,” he said, back on the line. His voice had softened, but he still seemed to be fighting an urgency that Marcus couldn’t put his finger on “Now go.”

“I can’t do that, Tommy. Told you before. She’s scared. You keeping a little girl and her mother here when they don’t want to be here is a problem. It’s called kidnapping,” he added, not wanting to push his buttons but also not knowing where the hell his head was.

“Who said anything about kidnapping? I didn’t kidnap anyone.”

He heard him say something else, but he couldn’t make out what it was. Just then, the front door opened, and light spilled out. A woman stepped outside, and the line went dead. He pocketed his phone and moved into the open, closer to the house, taking her in. She was slender, with shoulder-length hair, dressed in blue jeans and a T-shirt. Tommy was in the doorway, one hand on the frame, the other loosely holding the gun.

“Reine Colbert?” Marcus called out and stopped by the truck just in case he needed to take cover.

“Yes, that’s me,” she said. “Look, I’m sorry about all this. Eva shouldn’t have bothered you. We’re fine, though.”

Something about the way she said it rang false. He wondered what Tommy had said to get her to step out there. Had he threatened her?

“Reine, are you being held against your will, you and your daughter?”

She was shaking her head and rubbed her arms in the cold. He should have been cold, too, but the adrenaline pumping through his body numbed him to it.

“No, we are not,” she said. “Tommy here has helped us. It’s fine. We’re fine, as you can see.”

He tried to see into the house, to see Eva. Tommy glanced back inside. His brown hair was long and kind of a mess, and he was unshaven.

“Your daughter called me and is scared,” Marcus said. “Did you tell her to hide?”

Why was Reine just standing there? Was it to protect her daughter?

“My mistake,” she said. “Yes, I did, but she misunderstood. Look, we just needed a place to stay. Tommy brought us here. Everything’s fine. This is all just a misunderstanding.”

“You heard her,” Tommy said. “It’s fine. They’re fine. Now go on.” He flicked his hand and the gun, a motion to leave, but Marcus still couldn’t see the little girl.

“Well, see, here’s the problem,” he said. “I have a 911 caller, a little girl who called in terrified, scared of you, Tommy. Reine, you’re trying to say everything is fine, yet here you are, Tommy, holding a gun. You’re telling me this is all some sort of misunderstanding? Well, I’m telling you I’m not leaving. One, you shot off that gun, Tommy. Reine, you’re telling me you’re fine, but I don’t see your daughter. Now, this is the last time I’m going to tell you. Reine, you call Eva outside, and both of you come on down here now, because I’m not leaving when I know a little girl is afraid inside. Tommy, what you’re doing right now isn’t reassuring me in any way that anyone here is fine. So how about this? You drop your gun, and keep your hands where I can see them. Then the three of us will sit down and talk about what’s really going on here,” he said.

And what did the man do but laugh?

Right now, the gorgeous Jenny isn’t too interested in making friends, but despite her cool façade, as Ryan gets to know her, he can’t fight an idiotic need to try to ease the pain he sees her trying to hide. At the same time, he knows deep down that both mother and daughter have a secret, and if he were smart, he would listen to his brother’s warning and walk away.

When Alison goes missing, everyone in town believes she simply ran off or found her way into trouble, but nothing about her disappearance adds up. She simply set out on an afternoon hike into the park and never came back.

Jenny soon learns she’s not alone when Ryan takes matters into his own hands and sets off with her into the park to find her daughter. What he doesn’t know is that Alison is actually his daughter, too, and when he learns the truth and the real reason she left, the secret could end up dividing the O’Connell family and the community.

THE NEIGHBOR is available at your favorite digital stores:

THE THIRD CALL will be released in two days, but you can read Chapter 4 now!   ​

Now, as the head deputy for the Livingston sheriff’s office, he knows everything about everybody, and no one can pull anything over on him. It’s why he’s such a damn good deputy. But even Marcus dreads what cops know as the third call.

When Marcus takes the call the first time, he thinks it’s a prank. The second time, he knows there’s a problem. The third time the call comes in and is patched through to him, he knows it’s something he can’t ignore. The only thing is, the girl is terrified and keeps hanging up, and Marcus knows someone is in the house with her. 

Where are her parents, and who is this mysterious girl who needs his help?

THE THIRD CALL (The O'Connells, Book 2) is available for pre-sale at:

​

____

Chapter 4

Marcus flicked off his headlights, taking in the GPS. He was close, but all he could see were trees along the dirt road. To him, this was just another place in the middle of the woods. His cell phone was mounted on the dash, and when it rang again, he tapped the green button to answer. “What do you got, Charlotte?”

“Tulli is still working on who owns the house. He got the number of the burner, and I’ve sent it to you. Called Riley, too, but he’s not answering. Colby called in, said he can come out if you need him to instead of stopping into the station. Or what about the sheriff? May be time to bring him in.”

He just shook his head, not able to see shit because of how dark it was. “Sheriff’s out for the night. You know that.” He knew he didn’t have to explain more. She’d know. They all did. He was passed out and in no shape to help anyone. Maybe by morning, but morning was a long way off. “Nope, tell Colby to finish up, and get him to pop into the station. I’ll call back if I need him.”

He’d just as soon not have the kid anywhere out here, where he’d need to worry about him, too. He took in his dash, seeing the cell phone number, which was like gold, but he knew he couldn’t call it no matter what. The ring alone would give Eva away, and he didn’t have a clue what was going on inside the house. He hated being in the dark.

“Do you want me to try to get Eva on the line?” Charlotte said.

“And let whoever that dirtbag is hear her? No, absolutely not, but at the same time, if Eva calls, do whatever you can to keep her on the line, to keep that telephone line open…”

“You know I will, Marcus.” There was just something about her soft voice, how much she cared. He was glad she was the one on the other end of the phone, getting what he needed. As he took in how rural this place was, heavily treed, an awful sick feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. He dialed his cell phone and let it ring.

“This had better be good,” his brother growled on the second ring.

“Wouldn’t call otherwise. Listen, I’ve got a problem, and it would really help me to have you out here. I’m tracking down a call out in the middle of nowhere, north of the Calhoun place on River Road. There’s tons of terrain and not much else. You know where I’m talking about? Kind of place where if it can go wrong, it will.”

He could hear a squeak in the background, likely Ryan climbing from bed. He could hear his partner, Jenny, too. Maybe they had been asleep.

“Doesn’t sound good,” Ryan said. “Yeah, I know that area well, nothing but trouble and everything else. Where exactly are you, again?”

Marcus rattled off the address as he pulled over and turned off his engine, taking in how black it was outside. There was just something about this. He wanted to know more about this house and who was there. Worse, he didn’t have any information about the guy Eva was scared of.

“You have any backup coming?” Ryan asked. Marcus could hear what sounded like clothes being thrown on.

“Just you. Listen, I’ll watch for you. I’ve parked a ways back so whoever it is can’t see me, so be as quiet as you can, please.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Ryan said before hanging up.

Marcus would have laughed at the smartass comment if the situation weren’t so dire. He climbed out of his cruiser, then reached for his cell phone as it rang again. In the dark of night, the crickets in the silence were creepy, making him feel like anything could be lurking in the shadows.

“What do you have?” was all he said. He had answered on the first ring.

“Marcus, Eva is on the line again,” Charlotte said, her voice urgent. “I’ve patched her right through.”

“Deputy O’Connell, I’m really scared. Are you coming to get me?”

He wanted to say he’d be right there. “I’m outside now, Eva. Listen, are you still hiding in the back of the house where you told me?”

“I’m still here, but I’m over behind the boxes now.”

He wanted to nod, but there was no point, considering she couldn’t see him. “You didn’t tell me who the man is. Is your mom or dad there, or is it just the man? Anyone else?” He needed to know what he was walking into.

“I can’t hear Mommy anymore. She and Tommy were fighting. She told me to hide, so I ran. I took Tommy’s phone. I’m not supposed to use the phone…”

“It’s okay, Eva. You can use the phone. You have my permission, and that is the only permission that matters. You hear me? Is your mommy hurt?”

It was sounding like a domestic disturbance—a boyfriend with a temper? He didn’t know. All kinds of things could go sideways at this point.

“I don’t know if she is. Can you help my mommy?”

“Yes, I will help your mom, but you tell me about her. What’s your mommy’s name?”

“Mommy.”

He wanted to laugh and would have if the situation weren’t so dire. “I know you call her mommy, but listen to me, Eva. Tell me, what do other people call your mommy, her name? Mine is Marcus, yours is Eva…”

“Reine, her name is Reine.”

He flicked on his flashlight and hurried down the dark path, seeing that it was a driveway that led to a couple different places. Which path to take? “Reine…that’s a nice name. What is your last name, Reine and Eva what?”

Come on, please know your last name. He had to think of what he had known at that age. Of course he had known that he was named Marcus Finnigan O’Connell, and his address, his phone number, his parents’ names. He’d known that Suzanne had been a crying baby, and he had a mother and a father, brothers and sisters, a red bike with a bell that he’d ridden everywhere, and a teacher he believed had never liked him.

“Colbert,” she said. “My name is Eva Colbert. My mom is Reine Colbert.”

Great, they were getting somewhere. He knew Charlotte was in the background, picking up on all this, and she would be giving everything to Tulli.

“This is great, Eva. Just, whatever happens, don’t hang up the phone. If you hear him coming, just stop talking. As long as the phone is on, I can hear what’s going on in the house.”

“Okay, but you promise you’re coming?” The plea was there in her voice, an innocent child who was looking to him to save her.

“I’m coming. I’m outside now, but I can’t walk in the house just yet. I need you to be my eyes. Can you do that for me, Eva?”

“I can do that, but can’t you just come and tell Tommy to let you in?”

He wished it were that simple. “Not just yet. I need you to be brave for me for just a little bit longer. You just stay hidden and quiet as a mouse, okay? You said his name is Tommy. Is there anyone else in the house other than you and your mommy and Tommy?”

“No, uh-uh, just Tommy and Mommy. He brought us here. We were cold.”

“So is Tommy your mommy’s boyfriend?”

“No, he was helping us. We just met him when we were cold, and he said he knew a place. It was his. He brought us here.”

As he stepped around a bend in the narrow dirt driveway, thick with brush, Marcus could see a light and hoped this was the right place. He flicked off his flashlight, seeing what looked like a cabin the size of a small house. He thought there was an old pickup off to the side, and a shed. In the dark, it looked as if the entire place had been there forever.

“So this is Tommy’s place. What is Tommy’s last name?”

There was just something about watching the old house, the cabin. He thought the light had to be coming from the main room, but it was darkened by the curtains. He didn’t have a sense of what was going on in the house.

“Just Tommy. I don’t know his last name.”

“Okay, listen. Does Tommy have any weapons, any guns on him?” For all Marcus knew, he could have an entire arsenal back there, something else he didn’t want to walk into.

“He had a gun. He held it at Mommy, and she told me to hide. He was angry.”

An angry man and a gun, not a good combination.

“Any other guns there? Do you see any others in the house, in the room you’re in, where Tommy is?”

“I didn’t see any. I don’t know…maybe.”

Didn’t help, but best to assume he had more than one. That assumption might at least keep him alive. The dumbasses who didn’t assess all the risks were the ones who ended up dead. Just something Bert had drilled into him.

“Okay, Eva, that’s really good and really helpful. So how did you and your mommy get here with Tommy?”

“Some stranger gave us a ride, and then we walked from the road. It was a long ways, but Mommy said it would be okay once we got here. But it’s not. My mommy’s scared. I’m scared.”

“So you don’t know Tommy? Tommy didn’t have a car?” He was trying to piece it all together, a mom and her little girl and some guy who had brought her way out here. None of this sounded good.

“No, he was a stranger, but he was nice. He brought us a blanket where we were sleeping. He didn’t have a car, but he said he’d find us a ride, and then Mommy said we were leaving. It was cold at night, really cold. We used to live with these nice people, but we had to move, and we met Tommy… Oh, he’s coming! He’s calling me. Deputy O’Connell, he’s coming…” Her voice was high pitched with fear.

He could hear a man’s deep voice, yelling, calling her name, and he started around the bush to the house. Truth time. This was it.

“Eva, do not hang up! You stay on the phone with me…”

He heard her scream. The man had found her. He yelled something at her, and Marcus feared the worst.

“Who the hell is this?” a deep voice barked over the phone.

Marcus could only hope Eva was okay. “This is Deputy Marcus O’Connell with the Livingston sheriff’s office. Is this Tommy?” He knew authority was in his voice, but everything about this situation was taking a turn he didn’t like.

“What the hell do you want?” Tommy snapped. He wasn’t sure what else he heard in the background.

“I’m outside your place right now, Tommy. You have Reine and Eva Colbert inside the house. Is anyone hurt inside?”

Did he even have the right place? The curtain swayed, so there was his answer. He thought someone looked out, and then the line went dead. He stepped over to the truck, which was closer to the house and likely hadn’t been driven in decades, and shoved his cell phone in his pocket. He moved to unholster his gun.

The front door opened, and a man stepped out, bare chested, with longish dark hair and a pistol in his hand. He held it up and fired in the air. “Get the hell out of here!” he yelled.

Someone shrieked from inside. At the same time, Marcus spotted headlights and thought he heard his brother’s pickup in the distance.

“Who the hell is that?” Tommy snapped.

Marcus held his gun, ready to fire. “Just back up,” he said. “Told you, Tommy, no one wants anyone hurt. Just let the girl go, and her mother, and then we can talk.”

Instead of saying anything, Tommy looked right his way and lifted the gun. Marcus hit the ground just as he fired two more shots.

THE NEIGHBOR is available at your favorite digital stores:

Get your next glimpse of THE THIRD CALL!  The second book in The O'Connells series is on the way, but you can preview Chapter 3 now!

Now, as the head deputy for the Livingston sheriff’s office, he knows everything about everybody, and no one can pull anything over on him. It’s why he’s such a damn good deputy. But even Marcus dreads what cops know as the third call.

When Marcus takes the call the first time, he thinks it’s a prank. The second time, he knows there’s a problem. The third time the call comes in and is patched through to him, he knows it’s something he can’t ignore. The only thing is, the girl is terrified and keeps hanging up, and Marcus knows someone is in the house with her. 

Where are her parents, and who is this mysterious girl who needs his help?

THE THIRD CALL (The O'Connells, Book 2) is available for pre-sale at:

​

____

Chapter 3

“You know what?” Marcus said, turning from the street toward Colby, the youngest deputy in the department. “Finish up this report at the stationhouse, and tell Charlotte, if she’s still there, to go on home and turn the phones over to the main after-hours service. They’ll pick up any calls coming in tonight.”

He took in the flashing lights of the tow truck just pulling in to retrieve the pickup that had blindsided a Ford Escape at a four-way stop. Apparently, both drivers were confused on who had been there first, and they were still arguing. The scuffle had turned a minor traffic incident into a pain in the ass, with just another asshole he had to write up.

Then there was “the kid,” who was working a piece of gum, trying to appear as if he wasn’t in over his head. Colby appeared barely old enough to shave, which was likely why he’d forever carry the nickname. He surveyed the scene, trying not to appear scared shitless, doing his best to fill out the deputy uniform with his tall, lanky, boyish frame, as if he had some kind of authority to shut down both these assholes. In the end, Marcus had been forced to step in.

“What about him?” The kid gestured to the asshole with the bloody nose, the owner of the pickup. He seemed to have a history with the other guy, who was still carrying on about the huge dent in the back end of his rusted-out Escape.

“Give them both a ride home. I’ll have Wally tow these vehicles out of here, and—” His cell phone rang again. He pulled it from his pocket and took in the office phone number. “Hold that thought,” he said to the kid. “Charlotte, you’re still at the office? Thought you would’ve left by now.”

“Marcus, that kid called again,” Charlotte said. “I’ve still got her on the line.” It was there in her voice, the urgency. The knot in his stomach was so tight as he realized this was the third time the girl had called. “I’ll patch her through. Her name is Eva.”

“Shit—yes,” Marcus said, “and anything else you find out about her, too, like where she is…” he started before he heard the click and knew she was now on the line.

“Eva, this is Charlotte again. Listen, I have Deputy O’Connell on the line, and he’s going to help you. You tell him everything…”

“Is he going to come and get me?” Eva said.

Yeah, she was really young—and scared shitless, from what he could tell.

He didn’t know why his heart was pounding the way it was. “Eva, are you there? This is Deputy O’Connell. Yes, I’m going to come to you. I just need to know where you are. I need you to tell me everything. Are you hurt? What happened? Where are you?”

Marcus found himself walking toward his cruiser. In an afterthought, he turned to the kid, who had a confused look on his face, and gestured for him to finish up and take care of things.

“I’m scared…” Eva said. She was breathing heavy.

He leaned against the top of his cruiser. The lights were still flashing, and he stared at the houses around them, at the few people looking over to the accident. “Okay, Eva, I know you’re scared, but I need you to listen to my voice. I need to know first if you’re safe. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Yes, uh-huh, I’m hiding…” she said. She had such a sweet voice, but she wasn’t telling him very much.

“Okay, Eva, how old are you?”

“I’m six, six years old. Are you a sheriff?”

His heart squeezed at her innocence. “I’m a deputy, which is like a sheriff. Eva, can you tell me where you live? Do you know your address? Where’re your mom and dad?”

Okay, maybe he was asking too much. It could be hard to get any information out of a child.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Can you come and help? I’m scared. I don’t want him to hear me.”

He could hear Charlotte still patched in. “I’m going to come there,” he said, “but I need to find you first. Eva, do you live in town?”

“I don’t know.”

He shut his eyes as he pulled open the door of his cruiser. “Do you see other houses beside you or buildings? Is it a house or an apartment?” He flicked off the flashing lights and climbed in behind the wheel, vaguely hearing the commotion in the background as he set his cell phone down and connected it to the Bluetooth speaker.

“It’s a house,” she said. “There’s a front door and a big yard.”

Oh, great. This would be like finding a needle in a haystack. “Charlotte, get Tulli to locate this call,” he started.

“Already on it,” she said. “He’s tracing it now. Just keep talking, Eva, and don’t hang up this time so we can find you.”

“But I have to be quiet,” Eva said. “I’m scared of him…”

So the problem was a man?

“Who are you scared of, Eva?” Marcus said. “Is it your dad? Are you at home?”

She whimpered. “No, he’s not my dad. This isn’t my home. I don’t know where I am. It’s big and woody.”

He silently willed Charlotte to hurry up and for Tulli to do something. “Okay, I just need you to calm down, Eva. I’m going to come and get you, and I’m going to help you. We’re looking for you right now. Can you tell me whose phone you’re calling me from?”

“It was in his pocket,” she said. “He put it on the table. Will I get in trouble for taking it?”

He shut his eyes, wishing he were right there to reassure her. “No, you did the right thing. You are not in trouble. That was really good thinking on your part, calling me, calling for help. Tell me where you are in the house.”

“I’m hiding in a back room where there’s a bunch of old stuff, but there’s just trees outside. It’s dark, and I don’t remember. I don’t know where I am…”

“That’s fine, don’t worry. I just need you to tell me anything. Do you see any houses around you? You said there’s trees. How about a car or truck? Do you hear sounds outside, maybe of cars? Is it close to a road?”

It was her breathing that bothered him, the fact that it was so panicked. She was so damn young, and whoever this guy was, he didn’t want him to figure out that she was on the phone with the police.

“Come on, Eva, really listen. Close your eyes and tell me what you hear.”

“There’s creaking,” she said. “I can hear him. He’s talking. I can’t see anything. Do you want me to look out the window?”

In that second, he realized that moving might put her in danger. “No, don’t move,” he said. “You said you’re in a back room. Is this a bedroom? Are you hiding? Where are you in the house? First things first, I want to make sure you’re safe.”

“He can’t see me. I’m a hiding in the back of the house where the coats are hanging. There’s a big table and boxes, and it’s dusty. I don’t want him to find me.”

Okay, it sounded as if she’d found the ideal hiding spot.

“Is there a window there or a door you can see out of?” He was gunning the engine, driving blind, passing a car on the highway who pulled over as he flicked on his light to get around him.

“Over there, but there are curtains,” she said. “Do you want me to go over there? I can’t reach. It’s really tall.”

Likely not a great idea.

“No, Eva, you just stay where you are, right where you are. You said this is a man. He’s not your dad. Do you know him, or is he a stranger?” Marcus gunned the engine again, wanting Tulli to hurry the fuck up. He was blind on a highway without a clue which way to go, which direction. For all he knew, he could be going the wrong way. He took in the clock on his dash and the minutes that had passed.

“He’s a bad man. He scares me. Oh no, I can hear him! He’s coming…”

“No, you stay on the line with me, Eva. Don’t hang up. You stay right where you are.”

The line went dead.

“Fuck, shit!” He slapped the steering wheel, willing this kid to be okay, wishing he wasn’t feeling so damn helpless. “Charlotte, tell me you have something, that Tulli has something.”

“Just give it a second, Marcus. I’ve got Tulli here on the other line…” There was a pause. “He’s got it! I’ve got it. Shit, I’m sending the address to you now. It’s in the middle of nowhere, Marcus.”

His phone dinged, and he saw the address and knew exactly where that was, likely a cabin. “Okay, I’m on my way. If she calls back, you patch her right through to me.”

“You got it, Marcus. Listen, you want me to send Colby out?

He was already shaking his head. “No, the kid’s got to run two idiots home, and I don’t need to worry about babysitting his ass out here. Call Riley, give him the address, and tell him to meet me out here—and for God’s sake, Charlotte, if she calls back in, patch her right through.”

He hung up as he pulled a U-turn right in the middle of the highway, going back the way he had come, gunning it, knowing he didn’t have to tell Charlotte to stay at the office. It was just something she’d do.

At the same time, he couldn’t shake this sick feeling, all because of a call from a kid. Worse, this was the one thing cops all knew, that dreaded third call. When it came, they knew it wasn’t going to be anything simple. He didn’t have a clue what kind of danger this little girl was in.

“Damn it! Please let her be okay.”

Park ranger Ryan is one of the six O’Connell siblings in Livingston, raised by an independent mom who has been a rock to him. He has a career he loves, and up until six weeks ago, he lived a comfortable life. When a new neighbor moves in and disturbs the quiet peace of the area, bringing with her a daughter who’s walking trouble, Ryan is shocked to discover that the woman is a one-night stand he picked up at a bar years ago.

Right now, the gorgeous Jenny isn’t too interested in making friends, but despite her cool façade, as Ryan gets to know her, he can’t fight an idiotic need to try to ease the pain he sees her trying to hide. At the same time, he knows deep down that both mother and daughter have a secret, and if he were smart, he would listen to his brother’s warning and walk away.

When Alison goes missing, everyone in town believes she simply ran off or found her way into trouble, but nothing about her disappearance adds up. She simply set out on an afternoon hike into the park and never came back.

Jenny soon learns she’s not alone when Ryan takes matters into his own hands and sets off with her into the park to find her daughter. What he doesn’t know is that Alison is actually his daughter, too, and when he learns the truth and the real reason she left, the secret could end up dividing the O’Connell family and the community.

THE NEIGHBOR is available at your favorite digital stores:

Who wants another sneak peek of THE THIRD CALL?  The next installment in The O'Connells series will be released this weekend, but you can read Chapter 2 now! 

Now, as the head deputy for the Livingston sheriff’s office, he knows everything about everybody, and no one can pull anything over on him. It’s why he’s such a damn good deputy. But even Marcus dreads what cops know as the third call.

When Marcus takes the call the first time, he thinks it’s a prank. The second time, he knows there’s a problem. The third time the call comes in and is patched through to him, he knows it’s something he can’t ignore. The only thing is, the girl is terrified and keeps hanging up, and Marcus knows someone is in the house with her. 

Where are her parents, and who is this mysterious girl who needs his help?

THE THIRD CALL (The O'Connells, Book 2) is available for pre-sale at:

​

____

Chapter 2

Marcus worked a piece of gum as he drove back toward the station, taking a second to really consider everything that had happened. With his job, he was the law in this town, running things, making decisions and taking charge. He took in the downtown streets and the passing people that he knew, in a part of the country he loved, surrounded by mountains.

At the same time, this place was filled with secrets, this town, these people, and somewhere out there was the key to the biggest secret of all, the mystery of what had happened to his dad. One day, he knew he’d find answers.

He didn’t nod to anyone, though he knew everyone saw him driving past. A wave here, a turn of a head there, even from people he knew had whispered that he’d never amount to anything. Now he was the one in charge.

Marcus took in the bustling parking lot as he drove back past the Lighthouse bar on his way to the station house. His sister was still there, and so was Toby, considering both their cars were still parked side by side in the parking lot. Maybe this weekend he’d take another crack at her, but then again, he needed to remind himself that Suzanne had never listened to anyone when it came to anything. Yup, a typical O’Connell, with a stubborn streak a mile wide.

Suzanne was deceiving. She gave the illusion of being mild mannered and quiet, as the youngest sibling, but that entire personality was a ruse for her rock-hard stubbornness. She did whatever the hell she wanted, contrary to anyone, and she generally got away with just about anything.

Marcus pulled into the spot marked “Sheriff,” taking in the setting sun. His stomach growled as he thought back on the possibility of the burger and beer his sister had promised if he joined her at the Lighthouse. Right, not happening now, considering she was preoccupied. Add in the fact that he couldn’t stop himself from triple checking things at the station, which he did every night since Peach, God rest her, had left all of them. Nothing was going to blow up in his face at the sheriff’s office, not on his watch.

He took in the parking lot, the old brick of the sheriff’s office, and the town hall across the street, then made his way up the steps and pulled open the front door. His boots scraped across the old linoleum as he took in the frosted door with “Sheriff’s Office” written in fresh black print, something else he’d taken care of.

Inside, Charlotte, the dispatcher, whom he’d known forever, was standing at an old five-drawer file cabinet. Her dark hair was pulled high in a ponytail, and her curves had distracted everyone, namely the male who was cuffed and parked at an empty desk.

“Hey there, Marcus,” she said. “You get the sheriff all settled at home?” There was something about the way she spoke, and her smile lit up her entire face and her hazel eyes. Without question, she always stepped in to cover for the sheriff when Marcus wasn’t there. Maybe because of that, he’d never been able to understand why her personal life sucked so badly.

“He was snoring Zs by the time I left. You think you can get that friend of yours who cleans houses to stop on over again? His place needs a good going-over. It’s a pigsty, and pretty sure there isn’t a clean dish or shirt left, the way everything is piled up.”

Charlotte paused as she sifted through the files, then stuffed a folder in the already overcrowded drawer. She wore the same brown deputy shirt he did, only he swore it looked better on her.

“You bet I can,” she said. “What excuse should I use this time?” She closed the drawer and wandered back over to her desk, which was neat and tidy. He took in the messages she reached for.

“I don’t know. What did you say last time?”

She handed him the notepad, covered in her neat penmanship. There were a lot of the same regular nuisance complaints, nothing urgent, all a pain in the ass. When he glanced up, he took in the frown on Charlotte’s face, a face that would never get lost even in a sea of pretty faces.

“That he entered some contest to win free housecleaning,” she said.

Right, that was easy. “Say it was a package, more than one. Just make up a number, and I’ll cover the cost.”

She simply nodded, and he knew she’d take care of it. “You know, you don’t have to pay it yourself,” she said. “Let’s pass the hat around. I’m sure both Riley and Colby would also pitch in. It’s not all on you to look after the sheriff.”

What could he say to explain the soft spot he had for a man who’d given him more chances than anyone to turn his life around? Then there was Peach, who had looked the other way when he lifted that pack of smokes. Instead of busting his ass, she’d simply driven up beside him, told him to get in, and taken him back to her place, where she had given him a slice of lemon meringue and some sweetened tea and shown him an old photograph of her brother, who’d done a nickel at Calhoun for theft and was now six feet under, having never gotten his shit together. Marcus had never stolen anything again. That was just one more thing he hadn’t shared with anyone in his family.

“That’s mighty nice, Charlotte, but let’s keep it under wraps for now. Bert just needs a little bit to find his feet again. I can do that much.”

Charlotte gave a soft sigh. “You’re an absolute gem, Marcus. If only I’d gone with you to prom and not Jimmy Roy.”

That was the what-if road, which he had no intentions of going down, considering way back then, Charlotte’d had eyes only for Jimmy. Taking a trip down memory lane was something he wasn’t going to do.

“So this is everything for tonight?” he said. “Nothing else has come in?”

She shook her head, gesturing with her chin. “Riley is out at the Miller place about a break-in on one of his sheds, some farm equipment taken, and Colby is pulling the night shift tonight, so he’s making rounds. No more kids calling for kicks, so you just may be in for a quiet night. Was about to head home myself.” She pulled her desk drawer open and lifted out her baggy purse, then rested it on the desk. “Unless you need me to stay and help with anything?”

She was so damn good. Why did she give everything to the job instead of making the tough decisions she needed to with the dickhead she’d married?

“Jimmy still won’t leave, huh?” was all he said, knowing there was only so much he could do to avoid the topic. She and Jimmy had gotten married eight years ago and had been separated for seven.

She just shrugged and looked away. She still shared a house with the man she was married to in name only, because neither one of them wanted to give it up. It was pitiful and one of her only flaws.

“What can I say, Marcus? He’s as stubborn as me. We’re each waiting for the other to blink and walk away so one of us can have the house, but hell will freeze over before I let that man have a house that has been in my family for two generations.”

That was why she would never be free.

“Any progress with the lawyers?” He didn’t know why he’d asked, as she only shrugged. He wanted to point out to her again, as he had a dozen times, if not more, that she was only making her lawyer wealthy, and she could have bought two houses by now if she’d only walked away.

“He keeps telling me the same thing as you, that it’s just a house and it’s not going to get me back my last seven years. Do I want to give away another ten, twenty, or move on and be happy? But I’ll tell you exactly what I told him: That was my grandparents’ house. I love that house and don’t want to live anywhere else, so he needs to do his job, get a court date, and get Jimmy the fuck out of my house. Jimmy’s lawyer has managed to do everything he can to delay every single thing all because of one mistake I made.”

He could hear her frustration, and boy, he felt the bite of her words. She was passionate about that house. He wondered why it was that some women held on to the most ridiculous things, and he thought about his sister Suzanne, too. Thankfully, the phone rang, so he didn’t have to think of something inspirational to say.

“Sheriff’s office,” Charlotte said, without the same sweet voice she normally used. Yeah, there was a side of her that just couldn’t be reasoned with.

Whoever was on the other end had her flicking those hazel eyes over to him and snapping her fingers to drive home the urgency and get his attention.

“Honey, can you give me your name?” she said, then allowed the phone to slide away from her mouth. “It’s that little kid who called before,” she whispered.

Marcus gestured for Charlotte to give him the phone, but she was listening to something.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you,” she said. “Is there somebody there? Someone’s trying to hurt you? Where’s your mommy or daddy? What…hello?” She held the receiver away. “She hung up again, but I think she said her name is Eva. A young kid, just like before.”

Marcus reached for the main phone and slid it around, trying to see the number, but all the display showed was the typical blocked number from a burner cell. Charlotte held out the receiver to him. Something about these calls was now bothering him.

“You know what?” he said. “If you don’t mind staying for a bit, maybe call Tulli at the state computer crime lab in Missoula and see if he can find a way back to that number.”

Charlotte gave a quick smile—of relief, he thought—and dumped her bag back on her desk. “You bet,” she said, once again sounding sweet, nice, likely because he’d just given her the one thing she wanted: a reason not to go home and hang out with the man she was still married to.

Yup, he liked Charlotte. Could even have found himself asking her out a time or two, but there was that little fact that she was still married. Taking her home to her place meant hanging out with her husband, who would likely be doing the same type of entertaining, all because neither could get along, and neither would give up the house.

There was something about relationships that sometimes had him wondering why anyone ever bothered.

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