Millionaire's Last Stand (3 page)

“Did she marry you for your money?” Jamie asked frankly.

“I think so.” He let out a ragged breath. “She loved being a millionaire’s wife. And she hated that I wanted to live in Serenade, instead of taking her to Chicago or New York where she could live like a queen.”

“Why
did
you stay here?”

“Because I like this town.” He gave a faint smile. “I’m sure you noticed how beautiful Serenade is. But more than that, it’s…a home, you know? It’s a place where you raise your kids, where everyone knows your name and says hi to you when they pass you on the street. I grew up in a city of strangers. I wanted something different, once I married Teresa.”

Jamie found herself getting caught up in his words. She understood exactly where he was coming from. The oppressive trailer park she’d grown up in hadn’t been a home. More like a prison, if anything. She’d spent the better part of her adult life trying to find her place in the world, somewhere she felt like she belonged. Hadn’t found it yet, either, unless you counted the Charlotte Field Office.

Realizing she’d gotten lost in thought, she gulped down some more caffeine to kick-start her focus and said, “But your ex-wife didn’t want to stay in Serenade.”

“No, she wanted to travel with me, even though I told her she’d only end up sitting in hotel rooms while I did business. After the first business trip—I was only gone for two days—she became petty, childish. She began making ridiculous demands, and eventually, the affairs started.”

“Affairs?”

Bitterness dripped from his tone. “Parker Smith was the only one I knew about for sure—she let his name slip during an argument. But there were others. She taunted me about them.”

“But didn’t reveal any names,” Jamie said, leaning back in her chair with a thoughtful look.

“At that point, I didn’t want to know. I just wanted to get the hell out of that marriage. So I did. I filed for divorce and moved into this house.”

“Why did you stay in town? With your marriage over, it couldn’t have felt like home anymore.”

“Like I said, I like it here,” he answered with a shrug. “Not really sure why though, seeing as everyone in town views me as the big-city troublemaker.”

Jamie ran a hand through her hair. “I like it here too,” she confessed. “Weird, huh? I’ve only been in Serenade for an hour, but I had the same feeling when I drove in.
Home.
”

Reluctant curiosity flitted across his face. “You’re a city girl then?”

“Charlotte, born and raised.” She smiled. “Small towns are usually my idea of hell. Boring, quiet, judgmental.”

“Right about the last one,” he grumbled.

She noticed that his shoulders were more relaxed, his deep voice lacking the bite it contained before. Which meant it was time to go in for the kill.

Meeting his dark eyes, she leaned forward in her chair and said, “What happened the night Teresa died, Cole?”

Chapter 2

C
ole wasn’t caught off guard often, but Jamie Crawford’s question succeeded in making him flustered. The sudden determination in those gorgeous violet eyes threw him for a loop, and he realized she’d played him like a fiddle. He’d let her in because, as he’d told Ian, he wanted to take care of this mess. So if this FBI agent was willing to hear what he had to say, and hear it with an open mind, then what did he have to lose?

But she’d lured him into a false sense of security. Used her easygoing smiles and the complete lack of reproach in her voice to get him to open up, and then
bam!
Threw out a curveball before he saw it coming.

He drew in a breath, swallowing the animosity rising up his throat. Fine, so he’d let down his guard and had actually been enjoying the conversation with this intelligent redhead. He quickly raised that guard back up, knowing that everything he said from this point on had to be treated with caution.

“I’m sure the sheriff filled you in on what I told him,” he said, eyeing her with newfound suspicion.

“He did.” She paused. “He said you admitted to getting into an argument with Teresa the night she died.”

“We did.”

She sighed. “You can tell me what happened, you know. I’m not going to arrest you.”

He arched one dubious brow. “No?”

“I didn’t even bring my handcuffs, I swear.”

Cole fought a grin. The idea that she even
owned
handcuffs didn’t surprise him. Jamie Crawford had tough girl written all over her. He got the feeling she was very good at her job, that she wouldn’t bat an eyelash if she had to take down a suspect. Yet there was also a sense of harmony that radiated from her slender body, as if she knew exactly who she was and was completely at home in her own skin. Not even an iota of insecurity emanated from her. He found that oddly refreshing.

“I went to see her at Sully’s Bar that night,” he admitted. “We were due in court in a couple of weeks, and I wanted to convince her to stop contesting the prenuptial agreement. She didn’t have a leg to stand on, and to be honest, the thought of going to court was a huge headache.”

“I take it she didn’t agree with your point of view.”

“Greed always trumped common sense when it came to Teresa. I tried to reason with her, but she wouldn’t listen. She yelled at me, said some things that were intended to hurt me, and when I tried to get into my truck to leave, she slapped me, then grabbed my arm.”

He left out a few important details. Like the sheer rage he’d felt when Teresa yet again taunted him about her infidelities. The disgust that clamped around his throat at the mere sight of the vile woman he’d once loved.

“And then?” Jamie prompted.

“I went home.” His tone was hard and even. “And I have an alibi.”

“I only briefly glanced at the statement Finn faxed me this morning. It said something about running into a neighbor?”

“Joe Gideon,” Cole confirmed. “He lives about half a mile east of here, in an old fishing cabin.”

“Okay. So you saw Joe.”

He gave another nod. “I couldn’t sleep—I was still riled up over the argument with Teresa—so I went for a walk. It was around two o’clock in the morning, which is when the medical examiner claims Teresa died. I ran into Joe near the creek, we exchanged some heated words—”

“Heated?” Jamie interrupted.

“Joe Gideon isn’t exactly my biggest fan.” Cole sighed. “He blames me for losing his job and wife.”

Jamie’s tone remained utterly neutral. “Now why does he think that?”

Cole curled his fingers over the ceramic mug as he leaned back in his chair. “Did you notice the hotel at the edge of town when you were driving in?”

“Yeah…”

“That used to be Serenade’s paper mill. Two years ago I bought the property, shut down the mill and built the hotel in its place. All the workers lost their jobs, including Gideon. He blames me for that.”

“Do you believe it’s your fault?” Jamie asked.

He shook his head. “Real estate development isn’t a crime. The hotel has brought some much-needed revenue to this town and created even more jobs than the mill. But Gideon doesn’t see it as a plus. He lost his job, started drinking heavily, and then his wife divorced him.”

Frustration bubbled in Cole’s gut. “Look, I might be to blame for Gideon losing his position at the mill, but I’m not responsible for his drinking. Apparently he was hitting the bottle long before I showed up.”

“Gideon claims he never saw you that night,” Jamie said bluntly.

Cole was equally blunt. “He’s lying. Like I said, I ran into him by the creek. We exchanged words, and then he stalked off.”

“So you maintain that he’s lying to the police.”

“Yes, the son of a bitch is lying.” His voice came out harsher than he intended. He turned his head, willing his body to relax, the muscles in his face to loosen. Just thinking about Joe Gideon made his blood boil. He wouldn’t even be in this mess if that old bastard would just tell the truth.

When Cole turned back, he saw Jamie rising from her chair. She got to her feet and said, “Okay. Well, thanks for your time.”

Surprise jolted through him. “That’s it?”

“For now,” she replied, yet there was nothing ominous about her tone. “Let me follow up on some things, and if I need to speak to you again, I’ll call ahead next time.”

Cole resisted the urge to shake his head in bafflement as they left the kitchen and headed back to the front door. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that the top of Jamie’s head came a couple of inches above his chin. She was a tall woman, unlike Teresa, who had to fully tilt her head to meet his eyes.

He opened the door for her, but she didn’t make a move to step outside. “Thank you for speaking to me,” she said.

“Will you be in town for a while?” he asked gruffly. “Helping the sheriff with the case?”

“I’ve got three weeks of vacation time, so yeah, I’ll stick around.”

He opened his mouth to say something in return, but nothing came out. For some reason, he didn’t want her to leave just yet. She was the first person since Teresa’s death who’d spoken to him like he was a human being instead of a cold-blooded monster.

She was also the first woman since Teresa to evoke this strange sense of longing inside of him, but he decided not to dwell on that disturbing notion. Instead, he stuck out his hand and said, “Thanks for the visit.”

After a beat of hesitation, she shook his hand. Almost immediately, a current of electricity sizzled from her palm to his, making them both jump.

Well, that was strange. Though she’d taken her hand back, his fingers continued to tingle, a rush of heat moving from his palm, up his arm and circling his chest. He was just wondering if she’d felt that odd spark too, when she pinned him down with an eerily insightful look and said, “Did you kill her, Cole?”

This time he was prepared for the sneak attack. “No, I did not.” He spoke slowly and evenly, hoping she could pick up on the sincerity of his words.

“Okay then” was all she said. She stepped onto the porch, gave him a careless wave and walked toward her car.

Cole stared at her retreating back, dumbfounded. Hard as it was to admit it, he’d been enjoying her company. She might be a Fed, but she had the most endearing way about her. An unnamable quality that made him feel both comfortable and comforted by her presence.

Turning away, he walked into the house and closed the door behind him. In the living room, he picked up the glass of bourbon he’d left sitting on the coffee table, slowly sank onto the couch and spent an impossibly long time thinking about Jamie Crawford’s gorgeous violet eyes.

Jamie’s heart was pounding as she drove down the dusty dirt road leading away from the house. What on earth just happened back there? She could still feel the imprint of Cole’s touch on her palm. God, his hand had felt nice. Large, masculine, with a surprising amount of calluses. She wondered when he got the chance to work with those hands. He probably lived in a boardroom, yet the strong hands and the muscular body hinted that he didn’t spend
all
his time at the office.

And the visceral wave of desire rolling through her body hinted at something too.

She was attracted to him.

Lord, how could this happen? Cole was undeniably attractive, yes, but he was also a
murder suspect!
What was wrong with her body that it couldn’t recognize that?

In her ten years with the Bureau, she’d never been attracted to a suspect. Or a colleague, for that matter. She made sure to separate her personal life from her professional one.
Work is work
had always been her mantra. She’d seen too many fellow agents fall in love on a case, only to break up when the danger and adrenaline fizzled out. She’d decided years ago that she needed to find a man who was in no way related to her career.

And Cole Donovan, though he wasn’t an agent, was directly related to this case. This
murder
case.

Gritting her teeth, Jamie forced every last residual drop of desire from her body and focused on driving. She had to check in with Finn and tell him about the interview, and she also wanted to give Joe Gideon a call and set up a meeting. Then she had to pore over the case files and see if she could come up with anything Finn may have missed.

Which meant she had absolutely no time to lust over a sexy millionaire. Especially one implicated in the death of his ex-wife.

Feeling calm and grounded, she slowed the SUV as she entered the heart of Serenade. As she glanced out the tinted window, she couldn’t help but see the same appeal Cole had described. Serenade was definitely a place you’d want to call home. It was actually quite surreal, like the set of one of those wholesome family television shows. Main Street boasted cute little shops, including a drugstore with an honest-to-God soda fountain. The street widened and curved about halfway, showcasing a town square that featured a lovely circular fountain, curvy wrought-iron benches and flowering cherry trees that had to have been transplanted from somewhere else.

But it was the town’s geography that took Jamie’s breath away. The majestic Smoky Mountains loomed in the west, a filmy summer mist surrounding the peaks, and she’d driven past several dense forested areas and fields in full bloom. So different from her apartment back in Charlotte, which was located near the university campus on a street boasting the constant mill of students. Serenade had none of the bustle—it was peaceful and uncomplicated, and unbelievably pretty.

Jamie’s gaze was suddenly drawn to the fountain in the town square, where a gorgeous brunette holding a baby sat on the limestone base. The baby’s chubby cheeks were flushed with delight, and she was squealing as her mother sprinkled water from the fountain onto her nose.

Before Jamie could stop it, a pang of longing slid through her body.

“Not now,” she muttered to herself, trying not to sigh.

She’d never believed in the concept of a biological clock, yet for some peculiar reason, she could practically hear her body ticking away the past few months. It was strange as hell. She figured she’d have children eventually, but it had never been a pressing matter. She’d spent the past ten years building her career, and her professional success made her proud. Work had always been enough for her. Until recently.