Finn still looked unconvinced. “Cole could have calmed down afterwards and cleaned up the scene.”
“Jeez, you really want him to be our guy, don’t you, Finn?”
“He’s got the strongest motive.” A suspicious cloud crossed his face. “And you don’t want him to be our guy—why is that, Jamie?”
She shifted in discomfort. “It’s not about what I want. I’ve studied dozens of killers, I’ve spoken to them. And my instincts are telling me Cole isn’t one of them.”
Finn crossed his strong arms over his chest. “And mine say he did it. Especially in light of this new evidence.”
“At least tell me we’re going to speak to Cole about this before simply taking Ronald Emerson at his word—which is hearsay, by the way.”
Finn’s jaw hardened. “Not we. Me.”
“What—”
“I want to speak to him alone. I’m beginning to think you might have a bias here, Crawford.”
Disbelief flared in her gut. She couldn’t believe he’d even said that. There was nobody more professional, more objective, than her, and it grated that he actually thought she couldn’t remain impartial around Cole.
Was kissing him impartial?
She pushed the reminder away, but not before a rush of guilt filled her chest. Fine, so kissing Cole probably hadn’t been the smartest thing to do. But it had just happened. An impulsive, crazy moment, made even crazier by the storm and the dog she’d tried to save. And so what if she might be a tiny bit attracted to Cole? She wouldn’t let something as silly as desire cloud her judgment, and Finn had no right shutting her out—especially when he’d asked her to come to Serenade.
“You wanted my help,” she said in an irritated tone. “You begged for it. And now you don’t want me along on an interview?”
He sounded equally annoyed. “I don’t want you anywhere near that man, all right? It’s bad enough that you spent the night in his house. You may have forgotten that he might be a killer, but I haven’t. So if you still want to help, you can go over the statements Max and Anna took yesterday, and maybe take a look at the case file again.”
“But I’m not allowed to speak to your main suspect,” she said, bitterness in her voice.
Finn stood up. “I can handle this alone.”
“Whatever you say, Sheriff.”
His blue eyes were resigned. “You can’t possibly be angry with me for wanting to keep you safe.”
“When did I become unsafe?”
Finn let out a sigh. “When you stopped viewing Donovan as a potential killer.”
Jamie left the station a half an hour later, armed with the witness statements Finn’s deputies had amassed. The plan was to find a quiet booth at the diner and do some reading, but she couldn’t seem to get her thoughts in order. She didn’t like arguing with Finn. He was her only friend, and yes, he was right about the evidence against Cole being overwhelming, but it was all circumstantial.
She’d worked in law enforcement for ten years, long enough to trust her gut, to heed the built-in alarm system honed by a decade of investigation. No alarms were going off, though, and her gut was insisting that Cole wasn’t a killer. Were her instincts steering her in the wrong direction this time?
Or was Finn chasing the wrong man?
She smothered a sigh as she walked into the bustling diner across the street from the police station. She was in no mood to think about this case right now, or sort through her conflicting feelings about Cole. Fortunately, as she glanced around the diner, she spotted a much-needed distraction in one of the booths.
Sarah Connelly was sitting at the other end of the room, and she’d brought her baby, who sat comfortably in her mother’s lap and gurgled in delight at Jamie’s approach. Instantly, Jamie’s heart melted. The baby had red cherubic cheeks and was wielding a plastic spoon in one chubby hand, waving it around happily. She was so darn cute Jamie wanted to yank her out of her mother’s arms and run off with her.
Damn biological clock.
Jamie smiled at the infant, then glanced at Sarah. “Hi. Mind if I join you?”
With her free hand, Sarah gestured to the seat opposite her. “Go ahead.”
As Jamie sank onto the vinyl red bench and tucked her purse and file folder beside her, she caught the attention of a passing waitress and ordered a cup of coffee and a BLT. As she settled in, Sarah gently took the spoon from the baby’s fingers and set it on the table.
“She’s adorable,” Jamie commented.
A soft smile lit Sarah’s face. “I know.”
“What’s her name?”
“Lucy.” Sarah stroked the tuft of black hair on Lucy’s head. “I adopted her two months ago.”
Jamie glanced at her in surprise. Although her hair was far darker than Sarah’s brown tresses, Lucy had the same almond-brown eyes as her mother and they were just as eerily sharp.
“She actually kind of looks like you,” Jamie remarked.