He went on as if she hadn’t even spoken. “I tried to be nice to you! I left you that note, trying to help you get your priorities straight, but you ignored it! And then I tried warning you by messing with your car and you—”
“Warning?” she interrupted. “I could have died.”
“And if you did, then the sheriff would have called in another agent, one capable of carrying out a simple task.” Ian shrugged. “If you survived, I figured you’d skip town and let someone else take over, but you stuck around. I guess you do have a death wish.”
“You shot me this morning.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I missed,” he confessed. “I wasn’t planning on doing it—I was just keeping an eye on the house to make sure the bastard didn’t try and skip town. Then you came outside and I decided, what the hell, might as well go for it. But you moved at the last second, and I’m afraid I’m not very good with guns.” He wagged the weapon around as if to hammer the point home.
Jamie ran a hand through her hair, wincing when she unconsciously put her right arm to use again. She ignored the resulting pain and shot Ian a curious look. “So you’re doing this because you hate Cole?”
His eyes flashed. “What I did before, I did because that son of a bitch needs to be in prison.” His lips twisted in a malevolent smile. “But now…well, since you’re obviously not going to punish him for his crime, I’m going to punish him.”
She sighed. She didn’t normally provoke psychopaths, but this was bordering on nonsensical. “I have no idea what you’re saying, Ian. It’s starting to sound a lot like crazy talk.”
“Oh, I’m not making enough sense for you, Agent Crawford?” He made a tsking sound. “Not surprising, seeing as you’re completely incompetent at your job. How about I spell it out for you then?”
“Please do,” she couldn’t help but bite out.
“Cole belongs in jail,” Ian announced in a pleasant voice. “You’re too stupid to put him there. Ergo, I’ve decided to dish out my own form of punishment.” He leaned against the arm of the sofa, his gun hand swinging back and forth like a pendulum. “I’m going to make the bastard feel what it’s like to lose the woman you love. Clear enough for you?”
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.”