Millionaire's Last Stand (12 page)

He swept his gaze over rumpled clothing and mussed-up hair, and a sigh lodged in his chest. “Friendship might be hard to manage.”

A silence fell. Cole watched as Jamie picked up her purse from the floor and slung the strap over her shoulder. Neither of them spoke as they headed for the front door, the slow pace revealing the hesitation Cole felt, which she must be feeling as well. But it was for the best. Every cell in his body might be pleading with him to take this woman to bed, but he couldn’t act on the foolish impulse.

His last relationship had died a fiery death, all thanks to him throwing caution into the wind and jumping into something without thinking. And now his life was in shambles.

Sleeping with Jamie wouldn’t fix a damn thing. It would only add to his current stress levels. Yes, he knew that Jamie Crawford was nothing like his ex-wife. She wouldn’t betray him. Wouldn’t destroy him.

Or at least he didn’t think she would.

But that sliver of doubt couldn’t be ignored. Teresa had made it impossible for him to ever fully trust another woman. He refused to be played for a fool again. And if that meant staying away from Jamie Crawford, then that was something he was willing—not happy to, but
willing
—to do.

Chapter 8

J
amie’s entire body was trembling as she hurried down the porch steps of Cole’s house and made a beeline for her car. What had she
done?
Coming to Cole to offer support was one thing, but nearly having sex with the man? Thank God he’d stopped them before she made a huge mistake.

She slid into the driver’s seat and took a calming breath, then glanced in the rearview mirror. Her reflection floored her. Tousled hair, swollen lips, a rosy glow to her cheeks.

She tore her gaze away and drew more air into her lungs. So she’d given in to her primal urges and almost slept with Cole Donovan. She’d made a mistake, and she’d always prided herself on being able to learn from her mistakes. All she had to do was recognize that sleeping with Cole would be a terrible error in judgment and make sure she didn’t give in to temptation again.

Because really, what was the point in jumping into an affair with this man? Cole wasn’t the man she envisioned when she thought about settling down with a husband and children. She wanted someone to balance her out, a man who was kind, stable, who’d be a good father. Someone whose job wasn’t as demanding as hers. Cole was a multimillionaire real estate developer, for Pete’s sake. He was probably as busy as she was, if not more so. They’d never be able to make it work.

Oh, and he was a murder suspect.

How could she forget
that
little tidbit? But for the life of her, she still couldn’t bring herself to believe that Cole Donovan was a killer.

As confusion spun through her body, she started the car and placed her trembling hands on the steering wheel. She needed to get out of here. Away from this house. Away from Cole. Everything he’d said back there had been right. They couldn’t get involved. And they couldn’t be friends. He was a suspect, she was the cop investigating his ex-wife’s death.

Then start investigating.

The annoying voice in her head gave her pause, causing her to slow the SUV as she drove through the gate on Cole’s property. The image of Cole’s ravaged face burned across her brain, the defeated tone of his voice as he’d spoken about kicking a man when he’s down. The way he’d mocked her about being scared of him. The choked words—
“Don’t feel sorry for me.”

God, she had to help him. Maybe she really was a total idiot, but she didn’t like to see anyone suffer. Especially a man as strong and powerful as Cole.

Lifting her chin in resolve, she accelerated swiftly and took a left turn, not in the direction of town, but towards Joe Gideon’s cabin. Gideon was the key. The one holding Cole’s freedom in his hands. The man had lied to her when she’d gone to see him. He must have seen Cole that night, only he was too damn stubborn to tell the truth.

She squared her shoulders as she drove onto Gideon’s property. This time she was determined to get through to the man, to make him see that his lie was only slowing down the investigation and hindering them from finding the real killer.

Shutting off the engine, Jamie got out of the car and headed toward the disheveled porch. She knocked, waited and when Gideon opened the door with a suspicious look, Jamie flashed him a big smile. Refusing to be deterred, even when he greeted her with “You again?”

“Me again,” she said in a pleasant voice. “Do you mind if I come in?”

Gideon frowned. “Is the bastard in jail yet?”

“No, but to make that happen, I need to go over your statement again.”

Fiddling with the hem of his red-and-black flannel shirt, Gideon studied her for a long moment before inviting her in. “I already told you everything,” he said as they headed once again into his drab, musty living room.

“I know, but I’m just here to dot some
i
’s and cross some
t
’s.”

“Okay,” he said warily.

They sat down on the tattered couch, and Jamie pulled the tape recorder from her purse. “This really won’t take long,” she assured him. “Just tell me your version of events again.” She paused to offer another smile. “Every detail has to be documented for when you testify.”

Gideon had been in the process of running his hand through his thick beard. Now that hand froze. “Testify?” he echoed.

Gotcha.

“Well, of course. The district attorney will subpoena you as a witness for the state. You’ll be required to testify in a courtroom.”

Uneasiness flickered across his face. “Court?”

Jamie tried not to roll her eyes. “If Mr. Donovan is arrested and indicted by a grand jury, he’s entitled to a trial. Seeing as the alibi he provided depends on you, you will most likely be one of the state’s star witnesses.”

Gideon visibly gulped.

“So, let’s just go over your story and—”

“What would I have to say?” he interrupted.

She smothered an incredulous laugh. “The truth, of course.”

After a moment of reluctance, his bearded chin jutted out. “Fine, I’ll do that.”

“Okay, then let me tell you what you can expect in court, Mr. Gideon.” She clasped her hands together. “You’ll have to take the stand and swear on a Bible to tell the truth. Then you’ll tell the judge and jury what you just told me, that you never saw Mr. Donovan the night his ex-wife died. And then Mr. Donovan’s defense attorney will cross-examine you. Now I should warn you…” She let her voice drift off ominously.

“Warn me about what?” Gideon mumbled.

“Those defense lawyers…they can get pretty nasty. They’ll want to discredit you, and they’ll use every trick in the book to do that. They’ll dig into your personal life, bring up any distasteful, well,
vices
you might have. Your entire life, your past mistakes, bad choices, all that will be brought to light.”

“You don’t say,” he said in chagrin.

“The sheriff told me you’re currently unemployed and recently divorced.” She offered a sympathetic smile. “That might come up in the trial too.”

Gideon went utterly silent. Jamie could see his brain working over the details she’d given it, as he weighed the pros and cons of his predicament. As angry and pathetic as this man might be, he was also proud. She could see it in the way he held his shoulders, from the tight set of his massive jaw. He didn’t want his dirty laundry aired out in a courtroom. Nobody did.

“Do you understand everything I’m saying to you?” she asked in a quiet voice.

His thick throat bobbed as he swallowed again. “I think I do, ma’am.”

“Good.” She unclasped her hands and placed them on her thighs, lifting her head in resolve. “So why don’t we go over your story again, shall we? Tell me, what happened on July 15?”

Finn’s head jerked up as Jamie strode into his office thirty minutes later. She’d caught him on his lunch break, judging from the enormous Reuben sandwich sitting on the desktop and the tall foam coffee cup. He offered a tentative smile when he saw her, but before he could speak—or perhaps apologize for the way he’d shut her out earlier—she marched up to the desk and dropped a piece of paper in front of him.

“Here you go,” she said cheerfully.

Finn furrowed his brows. “What’s this?”

“A signed statement from Joe Gideon, admitting that he saw Cole in the woods at 2:00 a.m. which, if I recall correctly, is when the medical examiner says Teresa died.”

There was a shocked silence.

“He admitted to it?” Finn finally said, his voice laced with disbelief.

“Yep.”

She didn’t say another word, just sat in one of the visitors’ chairs and let it sink in. Finn shook his head a few times, his shock evident, and it took some serious willpower not to gloat. She was pretty damn proud of herself as she glanced over at the lined sheet of beer-stained paper, on which she’d transcribed Gideon’s revised statement.

Ah, the triumphant rush of getting the truth out of a liar. She couldn’t even credit her superior interrogation skills for this meeting. When she’d gone to see him, she hadn’t had a real game plan, not until she’d seen the look on his face when she’d mentioned testifying in court.

At that moment, she’d glimpsed something that Finn and his deputies had obviously missed: embarrassment.

Poor man was mortified by the state in which he’d found his life. He might blame Cole for that state, but not enough to have an entire courtroom of people judge him. Or worse, pity him. All she’d had to do was mention what lay ahead for him if he stuck to his story, and he’d completely caved.

“I can’t believe this.” Finn released a mumbled curse. “Did you get it on tape?”

“Yes, and he’s also willing to come in and sign a typed statement if you’d like.”

Another curse.

Jamie didn’t bother hiding her irritation. “You can’t tell me you’re angry about this, Finn. I got the truth from Gideon.”

“You backed up the alibi of my top suspect,” he shot back. “Hell, make that my
only
suspect.”

“And that’s a bad thing because…?” She gritted her teeth. “Now we can start looking in the right direction, find the real killer.”

Finn stared at her in frustration. “How, exactly? We’ve got zero leads, Jamie. This case is at a standstill.” He suddenly cocked his head. “Besides…Cole’s alibi…it might not even mean anything.”

She huffed out a breath. “What do you mean?”

“He could still be responsible. He could’ve hired someone to kill Teresa—Lord knows he has the money.”

She swallowed down a rush of incredulity. “So now he hired a hit man?”

“Maybe. Or maybe he did do it himself. Time of death isn’t always accurate, you know that.”

“And you’re developing a bad case of tunnel vision,” she retorted, unable to control her irritation.

She’d gotten the truth out of Gideon, and even with that, Finn couldn’t give Cole a break. He was like a dog with a bone, refusing to let it go even after he’d gnawed it all away.

“You need to accept that Cole might not be your killer. Actually, admit that he
isn’t
the killer,” Jamie said flatly. “It’s time to look at other suspects.”

“Yeah, like who? Tell me, who had a stronger motive than Cole?”

Jamie went quiet, pressing her hands on her thighs. She mulled over the question, but the frustration seeping from Finn’s body found its way into her, making her head hurt. “How about Valerie Matthews?” she finally suggested. “Maybe she hated her sister for marrying a millionaire.”

Finn arched a brow. “That’s a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”

“She could have a motive we don’t know about. And God knows that woman is a tad unstable.” She suddenly remembered the note on her car, which she’d dropped off at the station with Anna before heading to Cole’s house earlier. “And she wrote me a threatening note.”

“Yeah, about that,” Finn said. He pulled open the top drawer of his desk and removed the note, which was now in a plastic evidence baggie. “We tested it and there were no prints.”

Jamie’s shoulders sagged. “None? Well, Valerie could have wiped it clean before she left it on my car.”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure Valerie wrote this,” Finn admitted, a frown pinching his lips.

“But she pretty much said those
same
words to me verbatim in the diner.”

“Maybe, but this isn’t really her style. Valerie is all about knee-jerk reactions. She freaks out, yells for a bit, then forgets about it. Writing a note and leaving it on a car takes thought, planning. Valerie’s not a planner. Or a thinker.”

“Well, if Valerie didn’t leave it, then who did?”

Jamie’s question hung in the room for a moment. Before either of them could attempt to answer it, Finn’s cell phone went off. He lifted the phone to his ear and said, “Finnegan,” then listened for a moment. “Yep, she’s here…no, that’s good news…I’ll tell her to meet you there.”

Finn hung up. “Anna’s on her way to Parker Smith’s house. He just got off work and agreed to another interview. You still want to sit in, right?” When she nodded, Finn reached for a pad of paper on his desk. “Let me write down the address for you.”

“You’re not coming along?”

“Can’t. I’m meeting with the mayor in about ten minutes.”

He scrawled down Smith’s address and handed it to her. “Anna said she’ll wait for you by the gas station near Parker’s house, that way the two of you can arrive together.”

“Sounds good.”

She tucked the address into her purse and stood up, already heading for the door. Finn’s voice stopped her before she could cross the threshold.

“Jamie…”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I was such an ass this morning.” He had a sheepish expression on his handsome face. “If it helps, Donovan denied threatening Teresa and insisted the restraining order was just Teresa’s way of trying to get money out of him.”

Yeah, I know.
She didn’t voice the thought. Finn had no clue that she’d gone to Cole’s anyway, despite his order to stay away from the man, and she wasn’t about to start another argument.