Millionaire's Last Stand. Elle Kennedy

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