21. She Made a Deal – Roman
Chapter 21
She Made a Deal
PLAYLIST: “DEVIL’S BACKBONE” BY THE CIVIL WARS
ROMAN
What felt like hours, but was probably only minutes later, Barton waltzed back into the interrogation room, dropping into the chair across from me. His smug expression set my teeth on edge, and I guessed they had Zoe in another room, her story now being dissected by Landon.
Barton leaned forward, his elbows on the table, a predator’s glint in his eyes. “Let’s cut the bullshit, Roman. I’ve got a grieving best friend and ten years of unanswered questions. Your wife’s talking to Landon now. This is your last chance to come clean before she rolls over on you and sings like a canary. So tell me—why did your wife come back to Montana, and why does the evidence repository conveniently burn to the ground the same night?”
I didn’t flinch. I leaned back in my chair, the calm certainty I’d clung to wrapping around me like armor. Meeting Barton’s glare head-on, I kept my voice level. “My wife didn’t do anything, and neither did I. You’re looking in the wrong direction.”
Barton’s lips twisted into a humorless smirk. “The wrong direction? Funny, because every thread I pull leads me back to Twisted Creek. To your father-in-law. To Zoe.”
He flipped open a file with deliberate precision, pulling out a photograph and sliding it across the table. The image of Missy hit me like a sucker punch, but I kept my face neutral as Barton continued.
“You think I want to dredge this up? You think I enjoy seeing Michael fall apart more and more every day? I grew up with him, Roman. I watched him lose his sister, saw what it did to him and his family. And for ten years, I’ve had to live with the fact that my uncle buried this case as a suicide because of his loyalty to the Brandt family.”
His voice cracked slightly, the tightness in his face betraying the emotion he tried to hold back. He sucked in a sharp breath, the anger in his eyes blazing like a fire. “This isn’t just about you or Zoe. It’s about justice for Missy. For Michael. For everyone who’s been left wondering why she ended up dead in that barn.”
My palms turned clammy, but I leaned forward, my voice low and steely. “And what happens when you’re wrong? When you tear apart my family chasing ghosts and still don’t find what you’re looking for?”
Barton leaned back, crossing his arms, his disbelief obvious in the arch of his brow. “If I’m wrong, I’ll live with it. But if I’m right? Then it’s worth every second.”
I studied him, seeing the weight of his conviction etched into his face. “This isn’t about justice for you,” I said quietly. “It’s about guilt. You think you can make up for what your uncle did by throwing Zoe under the bus. But let me tell you something—my wife didn’t kill Missy. She didn’t set that fire. And no matter how hard you push, you’re not going to find what you’re looking for in us.”
Barton’s jaw tightened, and he shoved Missy’s photo closer to me, forcing me to look at it again—as if I needed to. As if it wasn’t already burned into my brain.
“Then tell me what I’m supposed to do, Roman,” he snapped. “Let it go? Let Missy’s name fade into nothing while her killer walks free? You can sit there with your righteous anger all you want, but I’ve got a job to do.”
I gripped the edge of the table, my jaw locked tight, refusing to rise to his bait. The silence grew heavy, thick with tension, until the door swung open.
Landon strode in, a folder tucked under his arm and weariness lining his face. “That’s enough, Barton.”
Barton straightened in his chair, his eyes narrowing. “What the hell are you doing, Landon? I’ve got this under control.”
“Sure you do,” Landon replied dryly, dropping the folder onto the table in front of him. “Except for the part where you’re harassing someone with a rock-solid alibi.”
Barton’s smirk faltered as he flipped open the folder, scanning its contents. His brow furrowed.
“What is this?” Barton asked, his voice sharp.
“Statements from Mr. Brandt and Miss Smith,” Landon said evenly. “Both confirm Roman and Zoe didn’t leave the house last night. They were under the same roof the entire time the evidence repository went up in flames.”
I leaned back in my chair, my gaze steady on Barton. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth, satisfaction breaking through just enough to be seen.
“Convenient,” Barton muttered, slamming the folder shut. “Too convenient.”
Landon pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. “Come on, Barton. You know as well as I do that the Brandt place isn’t exactly Grand Central Station, but the live in nurse is there for a reason. It’s the truth, not convenience.”
Barton shoved back his chair, frustration etched across his face. He jabbed a finger at me as he stood. “This isn’t over. I’ll find out who’s responsible, and if it’s you or Zoe, I’ll make damn sure you both pay.”
I didn’t flinch. Rising slowly, deliberately, I locked eyes with him. “Do your job, Barton. Just make sure you’re chasing the right people.”
The door slammed shut behind him, and Landon exhaled heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Barton’s… intense. He’s got his reasons, but that doesn’t excuse his behavior.”
I nodded, my voice steady. “He’s grieving. I get it. But that doesn’t give him the right to tear apart innocent lives.”
“Agreed.” Landon tilted his head toward the door. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here before Barton finds another excuse to drag this out.”
I followed him out into the hallway, my muscles tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop. When we reached the lobby, my chest tightened. Mr. Brandt stood near the front desk, Kat and Miss Smith flanking him. They looked up as I entered, their faces a mix of hope and unease.
But Zoe wasn’t there.
I stopped short, turning to Landon. “Where the hell is Zoe? What’s going on?”
Landon hesitated, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face before he sighed. “Zoe cut a deal with me. She promised to tell me the truth… everything she knows, in exchange for you walking free.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. “She what?” I asked, my voice low and tight. “What the hell was she thinking?”
“Probably about keeping you out of a jail cell,” Landon said, his tone blunt. “Now get out of here before I change my mind—or worse, before Barton finds another reason to keep you here.”
I turned away from him, my stomach twisting. Mr. Brandt stepped forward, his face pale but resolute. “What did she do, Roman? Where’s my daughter?”
I raked a hand through my hair, struggling to keep my composure. “She made a deal. She’s still in there, telling them everything she knows… trying to keep me out of this. God help me, I hope she knows what she’s doing.”
Mr. Brandt’s expression hardened, his voice dropping to a gruff whisper. “She told me she was coming here to get you back. Said she couldn’t live without you and, more than that, wouldn’t live without you.” He looked down for a moment, shaking his head. “Let’s just pray she knows what the hell she’s doing.”
Kat, standing a few feet away, crossed her arms over her chest, her voice sharp and unwavering. “She’s a brilliant businesswoman, Roman. It’s made her millions of dollars. Hell, she took down David Michaelson practically single-handedly the other day and managed to benefit the company she used to work for while she was at it.”
“So?” I arched a brow at her.
Her lips quirked into a faint smirk, confidence radiating from her. “So I have faith that she knows what she’s doing.”
I wanted to believe her, to trust in Zoe’s plan. But as I stood there, the weight of what she was doing—what she’d sacrificed to protect me—pressed down on me like a storm cloud.
“She’d better,” I murmured, my voice barely audible. “Because if anything happens to her…”
The words hung in the air, unspoken but understood by everyone. Mr. Brandt placed a steadying hand on my shoulder, his grip firm. “She’s strong, Roman. Stronger than any of us give her credit for. Now it’s our turn to trust her.”
I nodded, the tension in my chest easing just enough to let me breathe. But as we left the station, the storm inside me only grew darker, each step away from Zoe feeling like a betrayal of everything we’d promised each other.