“And ignore the evidence against him?” He hurried on before she could protest. “Circumstantial, I know. But guess what, circumstantial evidence can still send a man to jail.”
Frustration curled around her spine, making her antsy. Descending the wide steps of the deck, she stepped barefoot onto the grass and began to pace, a habit that always reared its head when she was feeling particularly annoyed. “Joe Gideon saw Cole in the woods at the time Teresa was murdered. Cole didn’t kill her.”
“Then who the hell did?”
Her pacing intensified. “I don’t know,” she said in irritation. “It’s hard to come up with a profile when there’s absolutely nothing to go on. I told you already, our guy is—”
“Neat, analytical, reserved,” Finn cut in. “Yeah, I remember. But how exactly does that help us? We still have to find the bastard. Unless we already have, and you’re just refusing to admit it.”
“Cole didn’t do this,” she said through gritted teeth. “He couldn’t have.”
Why, because you’re sleeping with him?
She banished the mocking voice right out of her head, refusing to believe there was any truth to its taunt. She may have slept with Cole, but sex hadn’t completely wiped away her common sense. Or her professional instincts. Her gut was telling her that Cole had nothing to do with his ex-wife’s death. They just needed another suspect. Another clue. Anything that could help her make sense of this murder that seemed determined to remain unsolved.
She quit pacing, suddenly noticing just how far she’d walked from the house. Somehow she’d ended up a hundred yards away, near a cluster of trees with thick branches that swayed in the morning breeze.
“There has to be something we’re missing,” she said as she headed back in the direction of the house, the grass tickling her bare feet. “We just need to—”
A sharp crack suddenly exploded through the air and pain streaked through her shoulder!
With a cry, she stumbled forward. The phone fell out of her hand, landing on the grass, and she could hear Finn’s tinny voice yelling, “Jamie? Jamie?”
She touched her right shoulder, shocked when she lifted her hand and saw it was stained crimson.
Dear God, she’d been shot.
Chapter 12
Cole had been trudging down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he heard a loud boom. His spine instantly stiffened, adrenaline filling his veins as he realized the noise had sounded suspiciously like a gunshot.
A gunshot?
As his pulse raced off in a wild gallop, he sprinted to the kitchen. “Jamie?”
But the room was empty, and when he noticed the open sliding door he streaked through it, bursting onto the deck in time to see Jamie tumbling to the grass fifty yards away. She clutched her shoulder as she went down, and Cole fought a jolt of sheer panic.
The adrenaline spiked, propelling him into action. Without a solitary thought about his own well-being, he dashed toward Jamie, half expecting another shot to ring out and hit him in the chest.
He skidded to a stop in front of her, sinking onto his knees and launching himself at her. He got her flat on her back, shielding her with his own body as he moved his head from side to side to make sure nobody burst out of the trees. Moisture seeped into his shirt and his heart jumped in alarm when he looked down and noticed the blood pouring out of Jamie’s shoulder.
She’d been shot. Someone had shot her, on his goddamn property!
“Are you okay?” he demanded.
She nodded, looking dazed. “I’m fine. It was just a graze.”
“Just a graze?” he echoed in disbelief. “You were shot, Jamie! By a bullet!”
“Yeah, that’s usually what comes out of a gun.”
Her cavalier reply had him seeing stars. Maybe getting hit by a bullet was no major event to her, but to him, it was a freaking big deal!
He lifted his head again, scouting the area, but the woods at the edge of the yard were quiet, save for the soft rustling of the trees and the happy singing of the birds. The shooter must have positioned himself somewhere in the trees. The motion sensors only surrounded the house and the perimeter of the yard, but not beyond that, which meant that someone had been in the woods, watching the house.
Although Cole was loath to get up and risk the gunman taking another shot at them, Jamie was bleeding like a stuck pig beneath him. Maybe she was right and it was just a graze, but there was too much blood for his liking.
“Come on, we’ve got to get you inside,” he told her. “Keep your head down, okay?”
To his relief, she did as he asked, hunching over once they stood up. She had her hand clamped on her wound as they ran in the direction of the house. The sight of the sticky red blood marring her skin brought a rush of fury to his gut. The person responsible was going to pay for this. Cole would make certain of it.
“How’s the arm?” he asked urgently.
“It stings. But I’ve had worse.”