“So?”
“So…well…” She fidgeted. “I don’t know…I just can’t picture you as a family man.”
Her words rattled him. Teresa had pretty much said the same thing to him when he’d raised the subject of having kids. Then again, Teresa hadn’t wanted children. She’d much preferred spending all of his money and telling everyone she was married to Cole Donovan.
“Maybe I want to be a family man,” he said, his tone harsher than he intended. “Maybe I want to be a husband and a father and stay in one place.”
She had the decency to look shamefaced. “I’m sorry. I…I just assumed…”
“That I’m a coldhearted businessman who’s only looking to close that next big deal?”
Her cheeks turned pink. “I…”
“I’ve had an offer to sell Donovan Enterprises.”
His abrupt revelation made her eyes widen. “You did?”
“Ian told me about the offer when he dropped off the contracts the other day. At first I thought it was ridiculous, but now…” He shrugged. “Now I’m considering it.”
Confusion etched into her features. “You’re willing to throw away everything you’ve worked so hard for?”
“I threw it away before, when I gave away my father’s legacy.”
“But this is your legacy, Cole. You built this company.”
“And Teresa’s murder is destroying it.” His throat clogged. “I don’t know what I’ll do. Selling is just something I’m thinking about.”
“You can’t let this investigation destroy everything you built,” Jamie said in a gentle tone. “Gideon told the truth, and I’m sure when Finn takes the evidence to the district attorney, the D.A. will decide not to bring the case to the grand jury. It’s too circumstantial.”
“I’ve already been indicted in the press,” he said darkly. “I didn’t kill Teresa, but everyone will always wonder if maybe I did, if somehow I used all the money at my disposal to buy my freedom.” A curse slipped from his lips. “And now the investigation is destroying you, Jamie. Someone tried to kill you, most likely the person who killed Teresa.”
“Maybe.”
Cole frowned at her. “What do you mean, maybe? Who else would want to hurt you?”
“I’ve put a lot of bad people away,” she replied with a small shrug. “I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that one of them has held a grudge.”
“And one of these grudge-holders orchestrated your accident from behind bars?” Cole wasn’t convinced. “That seems far-fetched.”
“Just as far-fetched as your ex-wife’s killer coming after me,” she pointed out. “There hasn’t been a single new lead since I came here. We’re in no way closer to finding out who killed Teresa, and the killer has to know that. Why risk getting caught by tampering with my car? If I were the killer, I’d stay out of sight, keep my head down and out of trouble, and hope the investigation blows over.”
“But you’re not the killer, and you don’t know what makes this guy tick or how he thinks.”
She offered a tired smile. “Actually, I kind of do. I’m a profiler.”
Cole blinked in surprise. This was the first he’d heard of it. “You’re a profiler?” he echoed. “You don’t go out in the field and investigate?”
“Not so much anymore. I started out as an investigator for the violent crimes unit, but now I work in the field office and go over crime reports to come up with usable profiles.”
His wariness heightened. “So you try to get into the heads of killers?”
“Pretty much. I have master’s degrees in Behavioral Sciences and Abnormal Psychology. I spend most of my time trying to figure out the personalities of violent offenders.”
Cole wished she didn’t sound so proud of the work she described. To him it sounded horrific, thinking like a killer, trying to understand what made violent people the way they were. For some reason, that bothered him far more than the thought of Jamie out in the field chasing after suspects.
“That’s why I’m not certain the killer is responsible for my brakes failing,” she added. “This man is too controlled, too precise. If he wanted me out of the way, he would have done it in a fashion that guaranteed it, not left it up to chance.”
“Chance? Your car crashed into a tree,” he grumbled.
“But I survived. When you kill by remote control, you can’t guarantee your intended target will actually die. He would have been more active if he wanted me dead. A shot to the head, probably.”
The grisly image she painted made his throat go tight. The more he got to know Jamie Crawford, the more he liked her, and the thought of her getting hurt—or killed—turned his veins to ice. She was here because of him. Because the woman he’d foolishly married had been murdered. And she was in this house because he’d promised to protect her.
Panic ignited his gut. What if he couldn’t keep her safe?