Millionaire's Last Stand (21 page)

He gave a sharp intake of breath.

“But my feelings don’t matter,” she said, ignoring the painful constriction of her chest. “This was a mistake. This entire…thing between us. You’re not over Teresa’s betrayal and the fact that your own judgment failed you. And instead of dealing with it, you’ve decided to accuse
me
of a betrayal I didn’t commit. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone into that room, but I did it because I wanted to help you. Those questions would have been asked regardless, I thought it would be easier if they came from me.”

Her hands shook as she reached up to rub away the tears forming at the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t even sure she’d gotten through to him. His rugged face revealed nothing, not a single iota of emotion.

With a sigh, she took a step back. “Take care of yourself, Cole.”

When he didn’t respond, she simply cast a last sad look in his direction, turned on her heel, and walked away.

“They don’t have a case,” Martin Worthington declared as Cole walked the older man to the door.

Martin had said the same thing in the kitchen as the two men discussed the case over coffee, and Cole felt better thanks to his attorney’s confidence. Better about the investigation, anyway. About the heart-wrenching confrontation with Jamie…well, he was still ravaged from that.

“Just do as the sheriff requested and stay put,” Martin continued, tucking his black leather briefcase under his other arm so he could shake Cole’s hand. “And don’t worry. The gun isn’t registered to you, your fingerprints aren’t on it, and even if the DNA results put your skin cells under Teresa’s fingernails, you have an alternative explanation. She grabbed you in front of witnesses. Trust me, Cole, this won’t even go to trial.”

“Thanks, Martin.” He gave the attorney’s hand a firm shake, then bid him goodbye and closed the door.

The moment he was alone, an unsteady breath left his mouth.

Everything Jamie had said to him kept replaying through his head like reruns of a bad TV show. She’d been completely off base, accusing him of looking for a reason to push her away.

That was insane. Wasn’t it?

During his conference with his lawyer, he hadn’t let himself consider Jamie’s words. As far as he was concerned, she’d gone from a lover to a stranger when she’d marched into the interrogation room and acted like an emotionless federal agent.

Now, in the solitude of his home, he allowed himself to think about what she’d said.

He walked to the kitchen door, his gaze drifting out at the backyard. It was surreal to think that she’d been shot this morning. So many crappy things had happened since then, and the sun was only now beginning to set.

As hues of pink and orange filled the sky, Cole finally opened his heart to permit the truth to slide in.

Jamie was right.

Damn it, she was right.

A part of him had always wondered how his judgment had failed him so completely when it came to his ex-wife. Teresa had revealed her true colors within months of their wedding. She’d let down the mask and the wife he’d adored had turned into a cruel, selfish monster who went out of her way to hurt him.

He’d spent many long nights thinking about how foolish he’d been, how blind. Teresa had sliced up his pride with a blade of spite and hatred. He’d vowed to never let another woman humiliate him like that again, and when Jamie had started asking all those questions…Christ, that same sting of humiliation returned, making him lash out.

He hadn’t understood Teresa’s true nature until it was too late and he still didn’t know how he hadn’t seen it. But he did know one thing, and that was that he’d totally blown it with Jamie back there.

The sound of vibrating snapped him back to reality, and he turned away from the door and fished his cell phone out of his pocket.

“Donovan,” he said briskly. At the greeting of the unfamiliar voice, he furrowed his brows. “Who? Oh, Pierre…hey, what’s up?”

He listened for several disturbing seconds, then said, “No, stay put. Let me call you back with instructions.”

Hanging up, he quickly punched in another number from memory, letting out a relieved breath when his private investigator answered on the first ring. “Hank, it’s Cole. I need you to drop what you’re doing and check something for me.”

Chapter 15

W
ell, you knew it couldn’t last.

With a noisy exhale, Jamie shoved the pessimistic thought out of her mind and took a sip of the coffee she’d just poured without waiting for it to cool. Maybe if the liquid scalded her throat she might be able to ignore her aching heart. She’d been sitting in Finn’s office for the past twenty minutes, lost in a private pity party.

She kept wondering if Cole was all right, if his lawyer was assuring him at this moment that there was no case against him, but then she realized it was none of her concern anymore. Cole didn’t want anything to do with her, all because she’d done her job and questioned him in that interrogation room. To make matters worse, her shoulder was beginning to throb again, now that the effects of the painkillers she’d taken earlier were wearing off.

“Want me to drive you to the B&B?”

She looked up to see Finn in the doorway. “I checked out, remember?” she said with a sigh. “And all of my stuff is at Cole’s.”

“I can pick it up for you, if you’d like. And you can come stay with me. I’ll even call the alarm company and have my system updated.”

She knew he was trying to help, but not even his gentle tone could ease the ache in her chest. “Sure, whatever you want,” she murmured.

“Jamie, I know you’re upset, but—”

He was interrupted by the hurried sound of footsteps, and then Max Patton, Finn’s second deputy, rushed up to the door. “Boss, a 911 call just came in.”

Finn’s shoulders went stiff. “What have we got, Max?”

“A body,” the younger man said, his features creased with tension. “The caller wouldn’t give his name, but he said he stumbled over a body in the woods behind Joe Gideon’s house.”

Jamie sucked in her breath. “Joe Gideon?”

Max nodded. “I’m not sure if Gideon was the caller, or if it’s his body the caller was referring to—the guy hung up before I could ask.”

Finn was already removing his car keys from his pocket. The gold sheriff’s badge clipped to the belt on his jeans glimmered as he turned for the door. Jamie got to her feet too, but Finn quickly gestured to the chair. “No, you stay here,” he ordered. “You’re still woozy from the painkillers, and I can’t have you getting hurt.”

She wanted to argue, but the brief rush of dizziness she experienced from standing abruptly told her that Finn was right. She was in no shape for a walk in the woods right now. “Call me when you know something?” she said instead, sinking back on the chair.

Finn nodded. “The second I know what we’re dealing with.”

Without another word, Finn and his deputy dashed out of the office, their footsteps thudding in the bullpen. A moment later they were gone, and Jamie sat in silence, reaching up to rub her suddenly throbbing temples. A body. Gideon?

Or what if…

Icy fear filled her veins. Gideon’s property was right next to Cole’s. What if something had happened to Cole?

Tamping down her panic, she drew in a calming breath and forced herself to stay put. She couldn’t go running off on her own. She didn’t have a vehicle, anyway. And Finn had said he’d call when he knew something. Which meant she had no choice but to sit in his office and wait for news.

Ten minutes passed, Finn still hadn’t called and Jamie’s worrying intensified. Whose body had they found, damn it?

Please, don’t let it be Cole.

She shot to her feet, deciding the only way to ease her worry was to find out for sure. She would call Cole, just to make sure he was okay. He probably was. Hell, he was probably sulking at home, still angry with her.

She’d left her purse on one of the desks in the bullpen, and she made a beeline for it, finding her phone just as a familiar voice came from behind.

“Sitting around doing nothing,” Valerie Matthews remarked coldly. “Why am I not surprised, Agent Crawford?”

Stifling a groan, Jamie turned to face the other woman. “Hello to you too, Valerie.”

Teresa Donovan’s sister directed a scowl in Jamie’s direction. “You promised to keep me posted about the case.”

“I did. I mean, I am,” she corrected.

“Really, then why did I have to find out from Tom Hannigan that you have the gun that killed my sister?”

Ignoring the dull throb of her shoulder, Jamie crossed her arms over her chest. Tom Hannigan? The lab tech, she remembered. Then she frowned, annoyed that someone involved with the case would reveal crucial information to a civilian.

“We did find the gun,” she conceded. “But it was wiped of fingerprints and the serial number was filed off. We have no way of knowing who it belongs to.”

“Cole Donovan, obviously,” Valerie muttered.

At the sound of Cole’s name, Jamie glanced at the cell phone in her hands. Damn it, she
had
to know if he was all right. “Look, Valerie, I’m kind of busy at the moment. Maybe you can come in tomorrow and the sheriff and I will update you on—”

“Update me now,” Valerie interrupted, her eyes flashing with anger.

“I can’t. I was actually about to call Finn to tell him to pick me up,” she lied. “He’s supposed to drive me over to his house.”

“Fine. I’ll drive you.”

Jamie narrowed her eyes. “No, thank you. I’ll just wait for Finn.”

“You need a ride. I need answers about my sister’s
murder,
” Valerie snapped. “And I’m going to get my answers, damn it. This has gone on long enough.”

A tremor of suspicion climbed up Jamie’s spine. Why was Valerie insisting? And why had she shown up here out of the blue?

Right after Finn received a 911 call that had him rushing out of the station.

Something didn’t add up. She felt like she was looking at a missing piece of the puzzle, but couldn’t seem to fit it in place. She looked into Valerie’s dark gray eyes and the suspicion grew stronger. Did Valerie know something? About Teresa’s death? About the attacks on her?

“Okay,” Jamie finally agreed, an edge to her voice. “You can drive me to Finn’s.”

“Good, and you can answer my questions,” the other woman retorted.

With reluctance weighing down on her chest, Jamie followed Valerie out to the parking lot, where a shiny white Honda Civic was parked. Valerie unlocked the doors and, with a mocking gesture, motioned for Jamie to get in. Still uneasy, Jamie slid into the sleek leather interior, then waited for Valerie to get in.

She had to find out what Valerie knew. If the woman even knew anything. Maybe the painkillers she’d taken were making her mind jumbled, steering her instincts on the wrong course. Either way, she intended to find out.

Valerie put the car in Drive and pulled away from the curb. “Why the hell haven’t you arrested him yet?” the woman demanded. “You’ve got the murder weapon now.”

“Have you ever stopped to think that maybe Cole didn’t kill your sister?” Jamie asked in a quiet voice.

“Of course the son of a bitch killed her!” Valerie tossed her black hair over her shoulder in outrage. “And he’s going to kill you too, if you keep hanging around him.”

Jamie sighed. “Seems to me like the only person making threats about me dying is you, Valerie.”

“Oh, trust me, honey, those were just warnings.” Valerie gave a hard laugh. “I haven’t even started with the threats yet.”

Cole was stunned as he hung up the phone, unable to comprehend what his P.I. had just revealed. Hank had kept him on the line while he looked into Cole’s request, and the entire time, Cole had clung to the hope that this was a mistake.

Now, it was glaringly apparent that that wasn’t the case, even as his brain continued to fight the obvious. It was too appalling to even consider. She couldn’t have done that. She
couldn’t
have.

She did,
an irritated voice buzzed in his head.
So deal with it and do something.

Christ, he had to find Jamie. He was probably overreacting here, but if what Hank said was true, then there was a chance she was in trouble. Big trouble.

Darting out of the kitchen, he paused only to swoop up his keys from the credenza in the front hall and put some shoes on. Fighting the panic rushing inside him, he stumbled down the porch steps towards his truck, determined to find Jamie and make sure his suspicions were unwarranted. Of course she was okay. There had to be a logical explanation for what Hank had discovered.

He reached the truck, then halted in his tracks.

Eyes widening, he stared at the tires in disbelief, wondering if he was imagining it. As his pulse pounded between his ears, he knelt down, then let out an obscenity.

All four tires had been slashed. And not just once. Someone had taken a knife to them and sliced so many holes in the thick rubber that driving would be impossible.

It must have happened when he was being questioned at the station, and he hadn’t noticed the damage when Martin had dropped him home. He’d been too distracted at that point. Too devastated.

With a growl of frustration he tore back into the house and skidded into the kitchen, where he grabbed his phone from the counter and dialed Jamie’s number. As the ringtone chimed endlessly in his ear, dread climbed up his spine.

“Damn it, Jamie, pick up.”

“Hi, you’ve reached Jamie Crawford. I’m unavailable to take your—”

“Damn!”

Cole quickly controlled his rage before he gave in to the impulse to whip the phone across the room. With stiff fingers, he dialed a different number, and the sheriff’s gravelly voice filled his ear. “I’m in the middle of something, Donovan. This had better be important.”

“In the middle of what?” Cole demanded. “Is Jamie with you?”

“No, she’s at the station. I left to answer an emergency call. False alarm, though.”

Cole’s spine stiffened. “What are you talking about?”

“Someone reported finding a body on Joe Gideon’s property,” Finn said, sounding impatient. “But there’s nothing here. We just searched the area where the body was supposedly found, didn’t see a damn thing. And Gideon is now getting in my face, threatening to sue me for harassment because we interrupted him in the middle of a damn bender. Now what the hell do you want, Donovan?”