Millionaire's Last Stand

  Her mind reeled with shock. The woman you love? Who on earth—

  “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “You…you were one of the men Teresa had an affair with.”

  “Affair?” he roared. “We had more than an affair! We were in love! Those other men didn’t matter, none of them mattered! I was the one she loved, and that son of a bitch took her away from me!”

  She exhaled in frustration. “Cole didn’t kill her.”

  “Yes, he did! He threatened to do it, too. She told me all about it. I was the one who told her to get the restraining order.” Ian’s cheeks turned red. “But it was too bloody late, wasn’t it? He got to her! She tried to fight him off in the parking lot of the bar and he followed her home to finish the job.”

  “Cole was in the woods with Joe Gideon when Teresa died,” Jamie said gently. “Gideon admitted to it.”

  “Then that bastard was paid off! Mr. Millionaire got to him,” Ian snapped. “Now you know what? Shut up. I’m getting rather bored of this. Congratulations, luv, you did it, you got the bad guy to spend a few minutes outlining his motives and all that fun stuff. Now shut the hell up and lie down.”

  She faltered. “What?”

  The gun in his hand jerked up. Even from her perch on the floor, she could see his fingers tightening over the trigger. “Lie. Down.” He gestured to the bloodstain.

  For the first time since he’d brought her here, Jamie experienced a rush of pure, unadulterated fear.

  As she positioned herself the way Ian instructed, she realized with growing terror precisely what he was doing.

  He was recreating Teresa’s crime scene.

  “I mean it, Donovan, either you tell me what’s happening or I’ll pull my gun out and shoot you in the knee.”

  It was an empty threat, but Cole heard the desperation in the sheriff’s voice as the Jeep bounced over a pothole on the hasty ride to the house where Teresa died. Ian must have taken Jamie there. He would want to kill her in the place where Teresa had died. Cole felt it deep in his gut.

  “My pilot called,” Cole started.

  “Your pilot? Is this let-me-brag-about-how-rich-I-am time or do you have a freaking point?”

  He ignored the sarcasm. “My pilot, Pierre, called, wondering why I ordered the jet to stay in the hangar. Apparently Ian grounded the jet two days ago, when he told me he was flying back to Chicago. My pilots have been twiddling their thumbs at the hotel since then.”

  “You’re talking about your assistant?” Finn sucked in a breath. “He lied about leaving town?”

  Cole gave a sharp nod. “He was here, when Jamie had her accident, when she got shot, he was here the entire time.” A sick feeling crept up his chest. “And it gets worse. After I spoke to Pierre, I called my P.I. to check into Ian’s past flight records, to see if this has happened before.”

  “And it has.”

  “Yep. A dozen times over the past two years, he made visits to Serenade, when he was supposed to be somewhere else. Often he did stop off at the city I sent him to, then came here afterward.”

  Finn swore loudly. “And you didn’t notice?”

  “I was a little distracted, what with my cheating wife and tabloid-worthy divorce,” he snapped, a sharp edge to his voice. “Besides, I trusted Ian. He’s done a good job for me, especially in these past couple of years.”

  “Yeah, well, he was banging your wife.”

  “You made the connection too, huh?”

  Cole battled an explosion of resentment at the thought. There was no other reason for Ian to be visiting Serenade without his boss. Unless he was involved with someone in town.

  And seeing as Teresa slept with every man who so much as bumped into her, Ian must have been one of the men on her adultery list.

  Swallowing down a lump of bitterness, Cole glanced at the sheriff. “That woman was poison. It wouldn’t shock me in the least if she seduced my assistant. It would just be another fun way to get back at me.”

  “Did I ever apologize for not warning you ahead of time about Teresa?”

  Cole’s head swiveled in surprise. Was he hearing things?

  “I’m serious,” Finn continued, sounding gruff. “I always felt like an ass for not saying something before you married her.”

  It might not be an apology for treating him like a murderer, but Cole would take it. “I probably would have married her anyway,” he said with a wry grin. “Your unsolicited advice would have just pushed me to the altar sooner.”

  “Well, nobody said you were smart.”

  Cole rolled his eyes, then went grave again as the Jeep reached the narrow slope leading up to the cliffside mansion. Lord, he hoped his instincts were right, that Ian had actually brought Jamie here. And he prayed that Ian hadn’t hurt Jamie, that she was using her skills and good judgment to defuse whatever situation she’d found herself in. The irony of his thoughts didn’t go unnoticed, either. An hour ago, he was accusing her of choosing her job over him. Now, he prayed that she relied on those professional instincts.

  It might be the only way for her to stay alive.

  “What the hell does Ian want with Jamie then?” Finn demanded.

  “He’s avenging Teresa’s death.” Cole’s lungs burned as he inhaled. “He thinks I killed her.”

  “And now he’s trying to punish you by killing Jamie?”

  “Seems so. I think he’s— No, pull over here,” he said suddenly.

  They had just reached the edge of the driveway, out of view from the house. Although Finn stopped the car and killed the engine, he glanced at Cole in suspicion. “What are you planning, Donovan?”

  He exhaled the breath he’d been holding. “I need to go in there alone.”

  “What? No freaking way.”

  “If he sees you, he might panic and kill her.” Cole forced himself not to dwell on that terrifying thought. “But if it’s just me, I might be able to talk him down. Convince him I didn’t murder Teresa.”

  “That’s the dumbest plan I’ve ever heard,” Finn said with a scowl. “You have no training, no experience with crazed criminals, no—”

  “And you do? This is Serenade, for Chrissake. Crazed criminals don’t live here.”

  “I still have the training,” Finn insisted. He reached for the gun holstered at his hip. “I’m coming in with you.”

  “And then Jamie will get hurt. If he feels ambushed, he’ll snap. Come on, Finn, think about it.”

  The sheriff went quiet for a moment, then let out a ragged breath as he saw Cole’s point of view. “I’m not sitting out here in the car like a damned guard dog.”

  “I didn’t expect you to. I just want to go in alone. You can come in on your own, get in position in case…in case you need to use that thing.” He glanced at the weapon in Finn’s hands. “But don’t do anything until I get a handle on the situation. Promise me that.”

  “Fine.” Finn reached for the door handle. “Let’s do this.”

  Cole’s entire body was riddled with dread as he got out of the Jeep. Finn hung back, letting Cole approach the house alone, in case Ian was watching from one of the windows. When Cole reached the top of the driveway, he spotted Ian’s rental car. His instincts had been right then.

  He winced as his shoes crunched over the gravel drive, then chided himself for it. Ian didn’t have superhero hearing, for Chrissake.

  Instead of walking up the path, he moved along the wall, creeping toward the front door as ice sludged through his veins. Christ, Finn was right. He wasn’t a cop. How did he expect to do this on his own?

  What if his inexperience got Jamie killed?

  Willing away the fear gnawing at his gut, he reached the front door. His hand closed over the door handle. If he managed to gain the element of surprise here, maybe he could end it fast. Sneak up behind Ian, tackle him to the ground and knock him out with a chop to the back of the head. At least he felt confident in his karate chops, grateful for the martial arts classes he’d signed up for at his gym in Chicago.


  The moment he slid through the front door, though, he realized he’d never had the element of surprise to begin with.

  Ian had been expecting him.

  “Come in already. I was waiting for you.”

  Cole nearly tripped as Ian’s cheerful voice wafted in from the living room. He let out a sigh of defeat. So much for stealth mode. He suddenly wished the sheriff had given him a gun. Walking into the living room unarmed and at Ian’s mercy was a disconcerting feeling. But for Jamie, he’d walk naked through fire. And for Jamie, he walked through that door.

  “It’s about time.” Ian greeted him with a lopsided grin. “The show’s about to begin.”

  Cole’s assistant was sitting on the arm of one of the leather couches by the coffee table, his posture relaxed, as if he had all the time in the world. Cole’s gaze absorbed the sight, then sought out Jamie. His heart stopped when he saw what Ian had done to her. She lay on the floor, her long auburn hair fanned out on the parquet. Cole nearly keeled over when he spotted the brown stain beneath her head. Blood. Oh Jesus. Ian had killed—

  Dried blood, the remnant of Theresa’s shooting. As he registered that fact, relief swept through him like a tornado, growing stronger when Jamie opened her eyes to give him an apologetic look, as if she were to blame for this lunacy.

  He’d scold her about that later. Right now, he was just incredibly happy to see she was still alive.

  “So, this is my punishment?” Cole’s voice revealed none of the cold fear plaguing his body. “You’re going to kill an innocent woman to avenge the death of a woman who didn’t even love you?”

  Ian’s head shot up in shock. Evidently he hadn’t expected Cole to go on the offensive like that, and rage slowly seeped into his features. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about my relationship with Teri, you bastard!”

  Teri?

  “She did love me. You’re the one whose guts she hated,” Ian said, tossing Cole a nasty grin.

  “She hated everyone,” Cole answered quietly. “You know I’m right, Ian. Teresa was a bitter, angry woman who was incapable of love.”

  Ian let out a hearty laugh. “You didn’t know her at all, Cole. The real Teresa, my Teresa, she was warm and loving and—”

  “Sleeping with you to piss off her husband,” Cole finished.

  “She loved me! She used to call me the second you went out of town, begging me to come see her, to make love to her.” Ian smirked. “She told me how bloody boring you were in bed, that no man made her feel the way I did.”

  Cole stared at his assistant with somber eyes, as an unexpected—and liberating—thought hit him. His entire marriage had been doomed from the start. He’d married a flawed, selfish and calculating woman who liked to toy with men, who was skilled at making others see what they wanted to see. His judgment hadn’t failed him—she’d just been too damn good at pretending. Her manipulation of Ian proved that nobody stood a chance in the face of Teresa Matthews’s noxious charm.

  “She was the best thing that ever happened to me!” Ian’s rant brought Cole back to the present. “And you took her away from me, all because you didn’t want her to have your money. You threatened her, you attacked her in a parking lot and then put a bullet in her heart! So now—” the man practically cackled with joy “—now I’m going to take her away from you.”

  Cole shot a desperate glance at Jamie, who offered a vulnerable look in return. She didn’t have a plan, he realized. How could she, with an injured shoulder and a head injury, which he deduced from the blood caked on her temple. Ian had the gun, the control, the madness.

  Determination clamped down on Cole’s chest. As Ian shifted the gun in Jamie’s direction, Cole knew without a doubt that he wasn’t going to let this happen. Screw everything else. Let Ian put a bullet in his brain. As long as Jamie managed to get away in the process, Cole was willing to sacrifice his life.

  “You’re right.” He spoke in a loud, clear voice. “I did kill Teresa. I shot her in the heart, right where Jamie is lying.”

  With a strangled cry Ian spun around, his brown eyes glittering with horror. The gun in his hand wavered violently. “You bastard! I knew it.”

  “Yep,” he said with a cavalier smile. “I killed that bitch.”

  A ferocious roar reverberated in the air as Ian staggered toward Cole like a man possessed. The gun continued to shake, Ian’s eyes burning with a rage that could only be satisfied with the annihilation of the murderer in front of him.

  “I killed her,” Cole said again, a rush of serenity moving through him the closer Ian came.

  Looking past Ian’s shoulders, he saw Jamie rolling to the side, a blur of motion as she sprang to her feet, but he knew she wouldn’t reach Ian in time. It was too late. Ian would win.

  But so would Cole, because he would go to his grave with the knowledge that the woman he loved was all right.

  As Ian raised his hand, Cole smiled at Jamie, hoping she could see in his eyes the emotions he couldn’t voice, and then the gun in Ian’s hand exploded and the bullet ripped through Cole’s abdomen.

  Chapter 17

  Jamie hit the ground as the gunshot echoed in the room, followed by a second shot that made her ears ring. She lifted her head, shocked to see Ian falling to the floor with a thud. A second later Finn burst into the room, gun drawn, face hard with satisfaction.

  She stumbled to her feet, only briefly glancing at Ian’s lifeless body and the bullet hole right between his eyes. Finn had damn good aim, she had to give him that. But her focus wasn’t on Ian or Finn or anything other than Cole. He’d stumbled to the floor from the force of Ian’s shot and when she knelt down and looked at his ashen features, she could barely breathe. The blood drained from her face as fast it seemed to be draining from Cole’s gut.

  “Oh God, Finn! Help me stop this bleeding!”

  Ripping off her jacket, she bunched it up in her hand and pressed it to Cole’s stomach, applying as much pressure as she could. Cole’s skin was clammy and pale, and he was unconscious. He was losing too much blood. It soaked right through the material of her jacket and stained her fingers.

  “Ambulance,” she choked out as Finn came to kneel beside her.

  “Already on its way,” he assured her, gently removing her hands so he could apply the pressure.

  Her heart hammered in her chest and she battled a wave of dizziness as she slid behind Cole’s head and lifted it into her lap. “Stay with me, Cole,” she begged, stroking his cold face.

  “He’s lost a lot of blood,” Finn muttered.

  He was right, and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it, not until the paramedics came and took over. As she caressed Cole’s dark hair, she silently pleaded with him to fight. It wasn’t lost on her that he was in this perilous position because of her. He’d antagonized Ian so the man wouldn’t kill her. He’d taken a bullet for her.

  Then another thought occurred to her. “Were you out there the entire time?” she demanded.

  Finn nodded. “Donovan wanted to go in alone, so I hung back until I had no choice but to interfere. Macintosh was ready to take another shot when I fired my gun.”

  She wasn’t worried about that—she knew killing Ian had been Finn’s only option. “So you heard everything Cole said?” she asked slowly.

  He gave another nod.

  “Don’t you dare arrest him,” she said with a fierce look. “He didn’t kill anyone, Finn. He just said that to—”

  “I know,” he interrupted, a soft look entering his eyes. “He said it to save you.”

  Satisfied that Finn wouldn’t cause Cole any trouble, she turned her attention to the man she loved. The man whose blood was leaving yet another bloodstain on the floor of this beautiful room.

  Don’t die, Cole. Please don’t die.

  She realized with an aching heart that she couldn’t lose him now. Not when she’d just found him. Found a man who excited her, who made her feel safe and happy. If having a future with him meant giving up her job, she’d do
it in a heartbeat. All these years she’d worked herself to the bone, wanting to be successful, wanting to escape the miserable trailer park she’d grown up in, yet at this moment, she knew that none of it mattered. How could it, when she had nobody to share that success with?

  The wail of sirens pierced through her thoughts. Relief swarmed her when the paramedics flew into the room a minute later, moving with skillful precision to load Cole onto a gurney and control the bleeding.

  “Can I ride in the ambulance with him?” she asked one of the men.

  They agreed to the request, and a few minutes later the ambulance sped toward the hospital in the next county. Apparently Dr. Bennett’s clinic wasn’t equipped to deal with injuries like Cole’s, and Jamie went pale as she listened to the paramedic radio the hospital saying they needed an O.R. ready. Stat.

  Surgery? She’d hoped that the bullet had gone through and through, but apparently that wasn’t the case, and fear erupted in her belly, chilling her body.

  When they reached the hospital she refused to let go of Cole’s hand, until one of the nurses at the Emergency Room door forcibly disentangled their fingers and ushered Jamie to a sterile white waiting room. She was just collapsing onto one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs when Finn rushed into the room.

  “They took him up to surgery,” she said, looking up at him with dull eyes.

  He was instantly by her side, taking both of her hands in his. “He’ll be okay, Jamie. If his gut’s as thick as his skull, he’ll be just fine, in fact.”

  She didn’t smile at the joke. “What if he dies?” she whispered.

  “He won’t.”

  They didn’t say much after that, just sat side by side in the room, as the clock hanging over the door ticked off the minutes. An hour passed, then two, and nobody came in with an update. Finn was still holding her hand, warming it between his fingers as ice continued to slither through her veins.