Millionaire's Last Stand by Elle Kennedy
He sounded equally annoyed. “I don’t want you anywhere near that man, all right? It’s bad enough that you spent the night in his house. You may have forgotten that he might be a killer, but I haven’t. So if you still want to help, you can go over the statements Max and Anna took yesterday, and maybe take a look at the case file again.”
“But I’m not allowed to speak to your main suspect,” she said, bitterness in her voice.
Finn stood up. “I can handle this alone.”
“Whatever you say, Sheriff.”
His blue eyes were resigned. “You can’t possibly be angry with me for wanting to keep you safe.”
“When did I become unsafe?”
Finn let out a sigh. “When you stopped viewing Donovan as a potential killer.”
Jamie left the station a half an hour later, armed with the witness statements Finn’s deputies had amassed. The plan was to find a quiet booth at the diner and do some reading, but she couldn’t seem to get her thoughts in order. She didn’t like arguing with Finn. He was her only friend, and yes, he was right about the evidence against Cole being overwhelming, but it was all circumstantial.
She’d worked in law enforcement for ten years, long enough to trust her gut, to heed the built-in alarm system honed by a decade of investigation. No alarms were going off, though, and her gut was insisting that Cole wasn’t a killer. Were her instincts steering her in the wrong direction this time?
Or was Finn chasing the wrong man?
She smothered a sigh as she walked into the bustling diner across the street from the police station. She was in no mood to think about this case right now, or sort through her conflicting feelings about Cole. Fortunately, as she glanced around the diner, she spotted a much-needed distraction in one of the booths.
Sarah Connelly was sitting at the other end of the room, and she’d brought her baby, who sat comfortably in her mother’s lap and gurgled in delight at Jamie’s approach. Instantly, Jamie’s heart melted. The baby had red cherubic cheeks and was wielding a plastic spoon in one chubby hand, waving it around happily. She was so darn cute Jamie wanted to yank her out of her mother’s arms and run off with her.
Damn biological clock.
Jamie smiled at the infant, then glanced at Sarah. “Hi. Mind if I join you?”
With her free hand, Sarah gestured to the seat opposite her. “Go ahead.”
As Jamie sank onto the vinyl red bench and tucked her purse and file folder beside her, she caught the attention of a passing waitress and ordered a cup of coffee and a BLT. As she settled in, Sarah gently took the spoon from the baby’s fingers and set it on the table.
“She’s adorable,” Jamie commented.
A soft smile lit Sarah’s face. “I know.”
“What’s her name?”
“Lucy.” Sarah stroked the tuft of black hair on Lucy’s head. “I adopted her two months ago.”
Jamie glanced at her in surprise. Although her hair was far darker than Sarah’s brown tresses, Lucy had the same almond-brown eyes as her mother and they were just as eerily sharp.
“She actually kind of looks like you,” Jamie remarked.
“I know. It’s funny, huh?” Sarah shifted the baby to her other hip and reached for her cup of tea. “So how’s the case going?”
“Too early to tell. We’re still waiting for the forensics results to come in. Until then, all we can do is interview folks and see if any new leads crop up.”
She neglected to mention the lead that had fallen into their laps less than an hour ago. It wouldn’t be appropriate discussing it with a civilian, and besides, she was trying not to think about that damn restraining order. She’d never felt the slightest twinge of peril in Cole’s proximity. No fear, no apprehension. She couldn’t imagine him threatening a woman, not even his ex-wife, and a part of her was extremely dubious of the claims Teresa had made to her lawyer.
“I don’t envy you,” Sarah said, pulling her from her thoughts. “I know Cole Donovan is under suspicion, but honestly, there are so many other people who hated that woman. You have your work cut out for you, that’s for sure.”
“You really weren’t a fan of hers, were you?”
“Not really,” Sarah answered with a shrug.
At that moment, the waitress approached the booth with Jamie’s order. As she picked up half of her sandwich and took a bite, she noticed the expression on Sarah’s face, as if the other woman had more to say on the subject of Teresa but wasn’t sure how to raise it. She decided to do a little prodding.
“Seems like Teresa was nasty to everyone—was that the case with you?” Jamie asked between bites.
“You could say that.” Lucy made a snuffling sound and Sarah stroked the baby’s head again. “The day I came back to town from the city, I ran into Teresa outside the grocery store and let’s just say she was at her very best. She said some callous things, you know, how I had to adopt a baby because no man wanted me.” Sarah shrugged again. “She also implied she was sleeping with my ex-boyfriend.”
It took all of Jamie’s willpower not to gasp. Considering the pained expressions both Sarah and Finn got when Jamie had mentioned one to the other, it didn’t take a genius to figure out they’d been together. Had Teresa been referring to Finn?
No. No way would Finn have slept with the woman.
“Did you believe her?” Jamie asked carefully.
“Not in the slightest.” Sarah’s next words confirmed Jamie’s thoughts. “My ex wouldn’t have touched that woman with a ten-foot pole. Teresa knew it, too. She just liked causing trouble, pissing people off just to make herself feel powerful or something.”
As if on cue, a voice Jamie now recognized interrupted the conversation. She turned her head in time to see Valerie Matthews striding up to their booth.
“Why, hello there, Sarah,” Valerie chirped. Her gray eyes landed on Lucy. “And look, you’ve got your baby with you. Isn’t she just adorable.”
It was the same word Jamie had used, only coming out of Valerie’s mouth, it sounded like an insult.
“Good to see you, Valerie,” Sarah said in a measured tone, and she seemed to clutch her child tighter.
Valerie’s black hair swung over her shoulder as she turned to face Jamie. “We weren’t formally introduced yesterday. I’m Valerie Matthews.”
Jamie reluctantly held out her hand to shake Valerie’s. “Jamie Crawford, FBI.”
Those silver eyes narrowed. “You’re here to send Donovan to jail then.”
“I’m here to investigate your sister’s murder,” she corrected.
“Then why is that son of a bitch still walking free?”
“We’re gathering evidence, Ms. Matthews. These things take time.”
“Gathering evidence?” Valerie smirked. “Looks to me like you’re having lunch with our resident nut case.”
Sarah gave a sharp intake of breath, and the raven-haired woman swiveled her head toward her. “I’m surprised you were approved during the adoption process,” she said in a saccharine voice. “I assume you’re taking your meds then.”
Sarah’s mouth set in a rigid line. “Jamie and I were in the middle of a nice lunch, Valerie. Why don’t you hurry along now.”
The woman looked incensed. “Don’t talk to me like that, you crazy bitch,” she snapped, causing several other patrons to glance in their direction.
Jamie spoke up quietly. “Ms. Matthews, I promise to keep you informed about the investigation. But now if you don’t mind—”
“I do mind,” Valerie cut in. “I mind very much. My little sister was murdered and you’re just sitting here drinking your damn coffee and doing nothing to put Donovan behind bars.”
“Ms. Matthews, I think—”
Valerie’s eyes launched icy daggers at Jamie. “Know what I think? I think you’re screwing him, Ms. Crawford. I saw the way you two were flirting on the street yesterday, and I can guarantee that whatever you think is going on with you and Cole, it’s not real. The bastard is sweet
“For God’s sake, Valerie,” Sarah snapped, “go cause trouble somewhere else.”
“You want to talk about trouble?” Valerie replied with a harsh laugh. She glowered at Jamie. “You’re going to find yourself in trouble if you let Cole swindle you. Actually, you’ll find yourself dead, Ms. Crawford. Just like my sister.”
Valerie’s entire body vibrated with anger as she huffed off, leaving the remaining two women to exchange amazed looks.
“Wow,” Jamie remarked in a low voice. “Is she always like that?”
“More or less. And now multiply that by a hundred and you’ve got Teresa.”
“About what she said…” Jamie began.
A resigned light entered Sarah’s brown eyes. “The comment about the meds?”
“Yeah, that. I know it’s none of my business, but—”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll hear other people mumbling about it,” Sarah said. “I…I had some issues a few years back, and…”
“You don’t have to explain. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t take her words to heart. She doesn’t seem like a very happy woman.”
“She’s not.” Sarah visibly swallowed. “And neither was I, back then. But everything is different now. Valerie just likes to rub salt in people’s wounds. Teresa was like that too.”
Jamie shook her head to herself, wondering how a town this quiet and peaceful could have produced the notorious and mean-spirited Matthews sisters. Knowing what she did about Teresa, she wasn’t surprised that nobody in town seemed to be mourning the woman, not even the man who’d been married to her.
She suddenly wondered how Finn was faring with Cole, and a frown marred her mouth. She didn’t appreciate the way Finn had ordered her to stay away from Cole, as if she were a silly schoolgirl rather than a trained agent.
Her appetite promptly fading, she put down her half-eaten sandwich. “I should get going,” she told Sarah. “I need to read over some witness statements.”
“Let’s get together again while you’re in town,” the brunette said with a genuine smile.
“Absolutely. Why don’t you give me your number and I’ll call you when I get the chance.”
The two women exchanged cell phone numbers and then Jamie left the diner, blinking in the afternoon sunlight. It was staggering to think that a storm had ravaged the area yesterday, what with the cloudless sky and damp humidity of the air. She made her way to the little parking lot behind the building, where she’d parked due to the lack of available spaces out front.
She froze.
A white piece of paper had been tucked under one of the windshield wipers of her SUV. It flapped ominously in the light breeze, raising Jamie’s hackles. She glanced around, but the lot was deserted, and as far as she could tell, there was nobody lurking around.
As foreboding rippled through her, she walked over to the vehicle and removed the slip of paper, using only her thumb and forefinger. Even without reading it, she knew it needed to be fingerprinted. A mysterious note on her car? How harmless could that be?
The note had been scrawled in black ink, all capitals, and looking at it, she couldn’t be sure if a male or a female had written it. But its message was undeniable.
STOP TRYING TO CLEAR HIS NAME AND PUT THE BASTARD IN JAIL. OR DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH, AGENT CRAWFORD?
Chapter 7
Cole stared at the security monitor, his jaw tighter than a drum as he watched the sheriff’s Jeep drive off his property. He jammed a few numbers on the keypad, waited to make sure the gate was closed, then marched into the living room, each step vibrating with anger.
Before Finnegan showed up at the gate demanding to be let in, Cole had been in the process of cleaning up his front yard, hauling garbage bags of rotted branches and pieces of his shed into the back of his black pickup. Now he was too pissed off to finish the job, instead heading toward the wet bar and grabbing a bottle of Scotch. At noon. Wonderful—his drinking schedule was getting earlier and earlier. And he wasn’t even using a glass this time.
A restraining order.
He still couldn’t fathom it. Teresa had gotten a restraining order against him, claiming he’d threatened her life.
Did you?
Christ, he didn’t even remember what he’d said to her after that meeting with their lawyers. Nothing good, he imagined, but he certainly hadn’t said he was going to kill her. He’d simply wanted her to back off, give up her frivolous lawsuit and quit screwing around with him. And now whatever idiotic words he’d hurled at her were coming back to haunt him.
Now Finnegan and the D.A. could say Cole had planned to kill her, days before her death.
Swearing, he dropped his suddenly aching body onto the sofa and stared at the Scotch bottle in his hands. Finally, without taking a single sip, he set it on the coffee table and buried his head in his hands. He stayed in that position for so long that when his cell phone began to ring, he lifted his head to discover there was a crook in his neck.
Massaging his nape, he grabbed the phone from the table, glanced at the screen and answered with “What is it, Ian?”
“Hey, I was just calling with an update about the Hanson deal.” Ian sounded concerned. “You okay?”
“No, not really,” he said with a sigh.
“Did something happen?”
He put on a vague tone, not in the mood for any pity. “Nothing important. So what about Hanson?”
“Contracts are signed and we’re ready to open negotiations with the contractors. Are you still set on a spring opening for the hotel?”
“Yeah, next summer at the latest.”
They discussed the waterfront hotel for the next five minutes, though Cole’s head wasn’t in it, and it didn’t take long for Ian to pick up on his boss’s distracted state.
“Seriously, what’s going on?” Ian demanded, cutting Cole off midsentence.
After a moment of hesitation, Cole sighed. “I just found out Teresa was filing a restraining order against me before she died.”
There was a shocked silence. “Are you kidding?”
“Nope.” He scowled. “Apparently she told her lawyer she was scared for her life.”
“But that’s…ridiculous.” Ian paused. “The cops don’t actually believe this, do they?”
“Oh, they believe it.”
“Even your FBI agent?”
“She’s not my anything, and to be honest, I have no idea what she thinks. I haven’t spoken to her since she left this morning.”
He suddenly wondered if the sheriff had told Jamie about the restraining order. Well, of course he had. Question was, did Jamie agree with Finnegan’s preposterous premeditation theory? The mere notion that she might believe it sent a sliver of pain to his flesh. Maybe they’d both agreed that the kiss had been a mistake, but Cole still couldn’t stomach the idea of Jamie Crawford thinking he was a killer. She was the first woman he’d felt a connection with since the divorce. The only woman in this town who didn’t gaze at him with fear in her eyes.
“Do you want me to fly back?” Ian asked.
Cole rolled his eyes. That was always Ian’s solution, to glue himself to Cole’s side, as if that would magically fix everything. “No, stay in Chicago. Someone needs to make sure this business doesn’t collapse.”
“Fine,” Ian agreed. “But if you need me to come, don’t hesitate to ask.”
After he’d hung up the phone, Cole reached up to rub his temples, hoping to ward off an oncoming headache. This was total insanity. Nothing seemed to be going his way. Joe Gideon refused to tell the truth and back up Cole’s alibi. Teresa was taunting him from the grave with her damn restraining order. The sheriff and everyone in town wanted him behind bars. His business was suffering because of all the bad press.
How on earth had he wound up here? It was as if he’d fallen into a deep, dark hole, and every time he managed to claw his way out, someone came up and stomped on his fingers, sending him flying
A buzzing sound snapped him from his dismal thoughts, then brought a rush of anger when he realized someone was at the gate. No doubt the sheriff, coming back with more questions. More accusations.
Shoulders stiff, he marched into the security room and studied the monitor, then swallowed when he recognized Jamie’s car. The window was rolled down, and she was looking up at the camera, her lavender eyes flickering with the compassion he’d come to associate with her. Then her voice crackled through the speaker. “Cole? Will you let me in? I just wanted to talk.”
Releasing a ragged breath, he buzzed her in and headed for the front door. As he waited, he raised his guard, refusing to be blindsided again. He doubted Jamie just wanted to talk. Finnegan had only left fifteen minutes ago, after Cole refused to answer any more questions without his lawyer present. And now Jamie was here, hoping to chat?
Cole’s jaw tensed as he heard her footsteps on the porch. Finnegan had sent her. No doubt about that. And he had no intention of enduring another interrogation, not even from the woman who’d passionately kissed him back last night. Actually, especially not this woman.
To his surprise, when he opened the door and gestured for her to come inside, the first thing she said was, “Are you all right?”
He blinked in surprise. “What?”
“Are you all right?” she repeated as they headed for the living room. Her gaze flicked to the bottle of Scotch on the table, and she answered her own question with a rueful expression. “I guess not.”
“What are you doing here, Jamie?” He couldn’t hide the weariness in his voice, or the heaviness of his body as he trudged to the sofa and sat down.
Setting her purse on the hardwood floor, Jamie joined him on the couch. The sweet fragrance of her perfume wafted in his direction, and he suddenly noticed that she wasn’t wearing the business attire she’d had on this morning. She’d changed into a pair of faded blue jeans and a black v-neck T-shirt, which made her look younger, softer.
“I was at the station when Teresa’s lawyer came in,” she admitted.
“So you know,” he said flatly.