Ian appeared in the doorway, holding a black leather briefcase in one hand. “Morning, boss. I just flew in to—” He suddenly noticed Jamie. “Oh. Hello.”
“Ian, this is Special Agent Jamie Crawford,” Cole introduced. “She’s helping the sheriff with the case. Jamie, this is my assistant, Ian.”
Extending a graceful hand, Jamie greeted the younger man with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”
After a moment of palpable confusion, Ian moved in for a handshake, then glanced at Cole in puzzlement. “The FBI is working the case now?”
“I’m here unofficially,” Jamie explained.
At seven o’clock in the morning?
Ian’s unspoken question hung in the kitchen, and Cole could see the cautious interest on Ian’s face.
“I came by to speak to Cole yesterday and got caught in the storm,” Jamie added.
At the mention of the storm, Ian shook his head in wonderment. “It’s incredible. Some parts of town look like a war zone. The statue in the town square toppled right into the fountain and there’re fallen trees everywhere. I saw a mention of the hurricane on the news last night, but didn’t think it would reach Serenade.”
“Well, it did,” Cole said. He slanted his head. “What are you doing back so soon? You only left yesterday afternoon.”
Ian held up the briefcase. “I’ve got the Hanson contracts for you to sign. He faxed them to the office last night, so I figured our pilot could have me here faster than it would take for a courier to get you the contracts. I knew you’d want to go over them ASAP.”
“I’m surprised Hanson cut the deal so quickly,” Cole said. “I appreciate your haste, Ian.”
Cole’s peripheral vision caught Jamie edging toward the door. “I should get going,” she said, meeting his eyes. “Thanks for the shelter from the storm.”
“Anytime,” he said lightly.
She hesitated in the doorway. “There’s the issue of the tree trunk blocking my car…”
“Shoot, right. Let us help you with that.”
The trio headed outside, where Cole and Ian heaved the soaking wet tree and moved it to the side of the driveway, allowing Jamie to reverse the SUV. She gave a little wave as she drove off and Cole noticed Ian watching her with a frown.
“It can’t be good, the Feds getting involved,” Ian commented as they walked to the house. The British inflection crept into his voice. “The case is still all over the news, and I’m afraid the company is starting to see the effects of Teresa’s death, boss.”
A frown puckered his brow. “What’s going on, Ian?”
They went back to the kitchen, sitting at the table as Ian slid a thick file folder in Cole’s direction. “First, here are the contracts.”
Cole extracted the papers from the folder and gave them a cursory glance. “Okay. What else?”
“Kendra Warner backed out of the hotel deal. She sold to George Winston.”
Cole let out a curse. Winston was his biggest rival, a developer who had no qualms about poaching potential clients and no ethics when it came to business. “Did she say why?”
Ian shrugged in discomfort.
“Ian.”
“She said she didn’t want to do business with a murderer.”
The soft-spoken revelation had Cole gritting his teeth. He’d already seen his stock take a hit thanks to the damn newspaper headline implicating him in Teresa’s death, but this was considerably worse. The Warner hotel would’ve been a cash cow for him.
Releasing a frustrated breath, he glanced at his assistant, his expression grave. “Anything else?”
“Chicago Imperial turned down our loan application for the Lakeshore shopping plaza.” Ian looked utterly miserable. “They feel you might be overextended, and that, uh, there’s a chance your assets may be frozen if you’re charged with a crime.”
“Damn it!” Cole slammed his hand on the tabletop, sending the papers flying. He quickly collected his composure and fixed the strewn contracts.
Funny, how Teresa seemed to be doing more damage in death than she had in life. The humiliation of her infidelities he could handle, but the destruction of his business? He’d built his empire from the ground up, worked himself to the bone to become successful and now he risked losing it all.
Ian hesitated, clearing his throat. “But I do have some other news.”
“Good or bad?” Cole muttered.
“You could look at it from both ways. We’ve had an offer for Donovan Enterprises.”
His breath jammed in his throat. “What?”
“Lewis Limited wants to buy us out.”
The air in his lungs slowly drained as he mulled over what Ian had said. Lewis Limited was another competitor, an outfit that had recently entered the real estate landscape and made a killing in housing developments. “I’m not selling,” he grumbled. “It’s ridiculous to even consider it.”
When Ian didn’t answer, a defensive edge laced Cole’s tone. “The case will be closed soon. Teresa’s killer will be caught and the public will know I’m not a murderer.”