Millionaire's Last Stand. Эль Кеннеди

But that kind of aggressive approach was more Finn’s style than hers.

      “I was in town on business, two and a half years ago,” he answered. “I ended up at the bar Teresa worked at, and we started talking. I …”

      “You fell in love with her,” she filled in. “And married her six months later.”

      He nodded.

      Jamie took a long sip of coffee. “So why did it lead to divorce?”

      “I mistook her for someone else,” he said dourly.

      Jamie didn’t respond. She just maintained the eye contact, her expression relaxed. She’d found that in most interrogations, silence was often the best strategy. Stay quiet long enough, and the person on the other side of that table got antsy. Started spilling their guts just to fill the void. Though she hadn’t expected the trick to work on a businessman as shrewd as this one, she was surprised when he continued to talk, his voice taking a faraway tone.

      “What drew me to her at first,” he said, rapping the fingers of one hand on the tabletop, “was her fire. Her spontaneity. She didn’t care what anyone thought of her, didn’t live to please anyone. She did her own thing, and to hell with anyone else. I liked that. I even admired it.”

      He halted, bringing his mug to his lips. “I was wrong. All those things I initially loved about her, they weren’t what they seemed. It wasn’t spontaneity or a lust for life—it was selfishness and greed.”

      “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

      Cole 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.