by Elle Kennedy
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.
“Thanks for letting me know,” she said.
With a quick goodbye she left the office and crossed the bullpen toward the lobby, hoping that Finn didn’t suspect she’d gone to Cole’s against his order. He’d be pissed if he found out.
Not that she was pleased with her actions, either. Again she had to berate herself for losing control like that. She was thirty-two years old, yet she’d acted like a reckless teenager back at Cole’s house. She’d worked so hard all of these years to be treated like a professional, and in one crazy moment, she’d nearly slept with a man who was the focal point of her investigation.
Sighing, Jamie put her inner turmoil to rest as she got into her car and typed Parker Smith’s address into the GPS. She had to quit stewing over this. She’d come to Serenade to help Finn with a case, and it was time to focus on Teresa Donovan instead of mooning over Teresa’s ex-husband.
Unfortunately, it was difficult not to think of Cole, especially when the route to Parker Smith’s house took her right past Cole’s house. She kept her foot on the gas as she passed the familiar turnoff, determined not to make another last-minute turn and get herself in trouble.
The GPS instructed a left turn and she followed the directive, reaching the top of a high slope lined by tall redwoods and flowering shrubs. She eased off the gas and moved her foot to the brake pedal, but when she applied some pressure, the car’s speed didn’t change.
Frowning, Jamie pressed harder. The vehicle stayed at the same pace, then picked up momentum as she barreled down the hill toward the sharp curve at the bottom.
Fighting a jolt of panic, she pumped the brakes, but yet again, nothing seemed to happen. Her heart thudded as the car hurtled toward the curve below. A hundred yards and she’d hit the turn at full speed, which would undoubtedly cause the SUV to flip over into the menacing-looking trunks of the redwood trees.
“Damn, damn, damn!”
Her hand trembled as she reached for the handbrake. She pulled it hard, praying it would stop the vehicle, but it didn’t, and suddenly the nasty curve got closer and closer, and her pulse shrieked between her ears, and with terrifying clarity she realized there was only one thing
she could do.
As the road came mere yards from ending and the thick tree trunks taunted her with imminent collision, she yanked on the door handle, tucked her head in her arms and launched herself out of the speeding car.
Chapter 9
While her heart raced in panic, Jamie curled at the exact right moment, the wind hissing in her ears as she flew out of the car. She somersaulted onto the grassy shoulder of the road, miraculously dodging out of the way as the car whizzed past her, tipping, as she’d expected, at the bottom of the hill. It flipped over once, twice, then crashed into a tree with a resounding metallic boom.
As she rolled her right arm bounced against the ground with a bone-jarring thud, and she clenched her teeth so hard she now tasted blood in her mouth. She saw stars for several long moments as she clutched her right arm. Gasping for air, she shook the dazed dizziness from her head and blinked wildly, orienting herself, then quickly examining her body for injuries.
Aside from the throbbing arm, her right leg ached and her body felt winded, but considering her daredevil antics, it was better than she’d expected. As far as harrowing vehicular escapes went, she knew she was pretty lucky to survive with nothing but a bruised arm.
She struggled to sit up and wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. Coppery blood poured out of the lip she’d bitten during the fall, staining the thin material of her shirt. Slowly she moved her arm, flexing a tiny bit to make sure it truly wasn’t broken. Relief flooded her body when she was able to move the limb without any pain.
“Lucky girl,” she muttered to herself.
Her gaze moved to the totaled SUV at the base of the slope. Well, maybe not so lucky.
“Ms. Crawford!”
She turned at the sound of the unfamiliar male voice, then fought another head rush. When her mind cleared, a wave of apprehension rose inside her belly. Joe Gideon was rushing toward her, a rifle slung over his shoulder and his eyes awash with worry.
“Are you all right?” he demanded as he reached her. “I saw you fly by me and knew something was wrong.”
He knelt in front of her, his salt-and-pepper beard inches from her face. Extending a big, meaty hand, he helped her to her unsteady feet while she stared at him with growing suspicion.
“What are you doing here?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“Hunting.” He sounded defensive as he gestured to his rifle.
Jamie’s eyes narrowed. “It’s out of season.”
Gideon’s beefy shoulders lifted in a careless shrug. “I don’t care much for rules.”
Something wasn’t right here. Despite the ringing in her ears and the incessant thudding of her heart, her brain was fully alert, and it told her that Joe Gideon’s appearance at the accident site was more than a coincidence. He just popped out of the blue ten seconds after her brakes failed and her car flipped over like a monster truck?
“What happened?” he asked in a rough voice, his brown eyes drifting toward the car imbedded into the tree.
“My brakes weren’t working.” She studied his face as she spoke, but his expression revealed nothing but surprise and concern.
“When was the last time you got new brakes for that thing?”
“Two months ago,” she said, her answer bringing on a fresh wave of anxiety. No way had the brakes just malfunctioned. They were brand-new.
Someone had tampered with the car.
Taking a breath, she took a step toward the road. “I need to get my purse out of the car so I can get my cell phone.”
Gideon trailed after her, and the two approached the vehicle with wariness. The fuel tank looked intact, but Jamie still moved with caution. What if the damn thing exploded in their faces?
You watch too many movies.
Her eyes widened as she gawked at the damage. The driver’s side of the SUV had been completely crushed, and the windshield had shattered, probably during the car’s downward roll. She grew light-headed as she realized she would’ve been killed if she hadn’t jumped out.
Ignoring the rush of fear coursing through her blood, she walked to the passenger side and opened the door, then reached in and grabbed her purse. She hastily darted away from the vehicle—those exploding cinematic gas tanks refused to leave her mind—and fished her cell phone from her purse with trembling fingers.
As she pressed the speed dial for Finn, she noticed Gideon circling the SUV in scrutiny. He bent down and peeked underneath the vehicle.
“Finnegan,” a voice barked in her ear.
“Finn, it’s me.” She steadied her shaky voice, adding, “I hope I’m not interrupting your meeting with the mayor, but I’m afraid I had a little accident.”
“What? What happened?”
“Just drove my SUV into a tree,” she said, attempting to make light of the situation.
“What?”
“Well, actually, I jumped out before the tree part. Needless to say, I require a tow truck.” From the corner of her eye she noticed Gideon moving to the front of the car, kneeling down again to poke his head under the mangled undercarriage.
“Where are you?” Finn demanded.
She gave him her location and he hung up without a goodbye. Tucking the phone into her purse, she glanced over at Gideon, who was walking toward her with a frown.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, still unable to fight the ripples of suspicion swimming inside her.
He’d come to her rescue incredibly fast. Conveniently fast.
“Can’t be sure, but it looks like the brake line was cut,” he told her.
Her spine went rigid. “Are you sure?”
“I just said I wasn’t sure. I’m no mechanic,” he muttered. “Just looks that way, is all.”
And he knew that because he’d peered under the car, or because he’d cut the line himself?
She took a discreet step back, grateful for the Bureau-issued Glock tucked into her purse. She didn’t carry it on her person when she was off duty, but she always had it with her.
“If I were you, I’d get the sheriff to look into it,” Gideon added.
No kidding. That was the first thing she planned on doing.
But Gideon wasn’t done dispensing advice. “And I’d tell him to speak to Donovan first.”
Jamie frowned. “Why do you say that?”
“Seems to me like someone was trying to hurt you.” The man shrugged. “I think someone wants you off the case.”
“You don’t say,” she murmured.
Without picking up on her sarcasm, he went on. “Donovan killed that woman. Don’t care if I saw him in the woods. Mark my words, he killed her. And I’d bet my last dollar that he doesn’t like you here snooping around.”
His motives were clear. He wanted to plant some doubt in her mind about Cole, but Gideon’s smirk only made her more suspicious of him. What if Gideon killed Cole’s ex-wife so he could pin the murder on his enemy? What if Gideon had tampered with her car because he wanted her off the case?
As her mind raced with unpleasant possibilities, sirens pierced the air. A few minutes later Finn’s Jeep appeared at the top of the slope, just as a blue-and-white cruiser skidded up from the other direction. Both Finn and Anna Holt arrived at the scene, each one wearing identical looks of concern.
“Are you all right?” Finn demanded as he hurried toward her.
She cradled her sore arm and nodded. “Just a little bruised up.”
His blue eyes shifted to the destroyed SUV, and he let out a sharp whistle. “Jesus, Jamie, you could have been killed.” Then that gaze landed on Gideon and a scowl graced Finn’s mouth. “What are you doing here, Gideon?”
“I saw the accident and came to help,” the man mumbled. “I was just leaving, though.”
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. “Well, don’t go too far, Joe. I’ll send a deputy over in a bit to take a statement from you.”
“Whatever you say, Sheriff.”
Jamie and Finn watched Gideon amble off, his rifle swinging back and forth as
he scurried off the shoulder and disappeared into the trees.
Anna Holt spoke first. “Is it just me, or do you guys think it’s really suspicious that he was first on the scene?”
Jamie sighed. “It’s not just you.” She glanced at Finn. “He checked out the car, said the brake lines might have been cut.”
Finn looked shocked. “Are you serious?”
“That’s what Gideon thinks. But we should probably get a mechanic to look at it.”
“That’s my first priority.” He shook his head. “Scratch that, it’s my second priority. Right now I’m driving you to the clinic to get checked out.”
She groaned in protest. “I’m fine, Finn. I don’t need a doc—”
“No argument,” he interrupted, a ferocious scowl on his face. “Now get in the Jeep so I can take you to the clinic.”
“Jeez, Finn—”
“Get in the damn Jeep, Jamie.”
“Well, it’s not broken,” Dr. Travis Bennett concluded, removing the X-ray he’d taken of Jamie’s arm from the backlit white board. He turned with a reassuring smile, which only irked her even more.
“I knew it wasn’t broken,” she grumbled from her place on the narrow gurney. “I told Finn there was no reason to come to the clinic.”
“Better safe than sorry,” Finn grumbled back, his broad frame filling the doorway.
“The sheriff’s right,” Dr. Bennett agreed. “It’s always prudent to get checked out after an accident.” The tall man stepped to the door. “I’m going to write you up a prescription for painkillers.”
“I don’t need painkillers,” she objected.
He simply offered an indulgent smile. “Trust me, you’ll thank me tonight, when all those scrapes and bruises start throbbing.”
After the doctor left the room, Finn came inside, a frown marring his mouth. “I just got off the phone with the mechanic.”
“And?”
“He did an initial examination of the SUV and confirmed what Gideon said. The brake lines were cut.”
Unhappiness lodged in her chest. “Could it have happened on its own?”