22. No Turning Back – Zoe
Chapter 22
No Turning Back
PLAYLIST: “SEVEN DEVILS” BY FLORENCE + THE MACHINE
ZOE
When Landon walked back in and closed the interrogation room door behind him, I felt like I might suffocate to death, like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room, but we’d made a deal, and I’d hold up my end.
“You already know Missy and I had a very public fight at Twisted Creek ranch the day she died.”
“Yes.” Landon nodded. “She kissed Roman in front of you, and you and Missy proceeded to have a shouting match in which you called her a back-stabbing bitch and a slut, among other things. And she accused you of being a jealous, stuck-up bitch who was just fooling around with the help, but didn’t really care about Roman until someone else came sniffing around him. Witnesses also said she called you a spoiled, entitled brat of a rancher’s daughter who didn’t know what she wanted until someone else took it away.”
“That’s all true, yes.”
“And what’s the big secret that you’ve been keeping for the past ten years?”
“Missy and I had another fight that day. In the barn. After the first fight. With no witnesses. A continuation of the first fight, really.”
Landon’s gaze sharpened, his body going unnaturally still, like a predator locking onto prey. “A second fight. In the barn. No witnesses. And you didn’t think to mention this in the past ten years because…?”
“Because I didn’t want anyone to know,” I said, my voice low but steady. “Not Roman. Not my father. And sure as hell not you.”
Landon’s lips thinned, but he didn’t interrupt. He waited, the silence between us thick and suffocating, pushing me to fill it.
“She cornered me,” I continued, the words dragging out of me like splinters. “She wasn’t finished after what happened outside. She followed me into the barn, still fuming, and she… she said things. About Roman. About me. Things meant to hurt. She was good at that when she was in a temper fit.”
“What kind of things?” Landon pressed, his voice calm but razor-sharp.
I hesitated, my fingers curling into the edge of the table. “She said I didn’t deserve him. That Roman was just another notch on my belt, a way to piss off my father. She said I’d never really love him because I didn’t know how to love anything that didn’t come with a silver spoon.”
“And how did you respond to that?” Landon’s tone was clinical, detached, but his eyes were anything but. They were locked on mine, scrutinizing every word, every flicker of emotion.
“I told her to shut her goddamn mouth,” I said bluntly. “Told her she didn’t know a damn thing about me or Roman. I told her she was a shitty excuse for a best friend. And then I—” My voice cracked, and I sucked in a breath, forcing myself to go on. “I grabbed her arm. Told her to get out of my face and stay the hell away from Roman.”
Landon leaned forward slightly, his elbows on the table. “And did she?”
“For a moment, yes,” I said, swallowing hard. “She backed off, but not because I scared her. She smirked at me like she’d already won and said… she said Roman would figure out sooner or later that he deserved better than some overgrown princess playing at rebellion. Then she walked away. That’s the last time I saw her alive.”
Landon studied me, his gaze unrelenting. “And you expect me to believe that after all of that, you just let her walk away?”
I met his gaze head-on, my voice unwavering. “Believe whatever the hell you want, Landon. But I didn’t kill her. And neither did Roman.”
He didn’t respond right away, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sat back, exhaling slowly. “And you’ve been sitting on this for ten years? Letting the official suicide by hanging story stand while knowing damn well there was more to it?”
“Yes,” I said simply. “Because it didn’t matter. Missy’s death was ruled a suicide, and telling anyone about that fight wouldn’t have brought her back. All it would’ve done is drag Roman and me through the mud.”
Landon tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Or maybe you kept quiet because you were afraid of what people might think. That they’d look at you, at your history with Missy, and decide you had a motive for killing her, after all.”
My jaw tightened, but I didn’t rise to the bait. “I didn’t kill her, Landon. You already have my price for telling you this. Now it’s your turn to hold up your end of the deal.”
For a long moment, he didn’t speak. The weight of his scrutiny bore down on me, every second stretching longer than the last. Finally, he nodded.
“Roman’s free,” he said quietly. “For now. But if I find out you’re holding back on me—about this or anything else—there won’t be any deals next time.”
I nodded, folded my hands on the cold metal table, and stared down at them, debating whether or not to tell him about Roman following me to the creek after my fight with Missy.
Landon hadn’t moved, his eyes still fixed on me, unrelenting. I hated that we’d gone to school together. He was watching me like a hawk, and he knew me too well. Despite all my time in Miami as a high-powered businesswoman with a hell of a poker face, I was afraid he’d see through me.
“You’re holding something back,” he said, his tone quiet but firm. “You’re trying to convince me you and Roman had nothing to do with Missy’s death, but there’s more to the story. Isn’t there?”
I hesitated, the weight of my past decisions pressing down on me like a lead blanket. I had already started peeling back the layers of this tangled mess; what was one more? I took a steadying breath and gripped the edge of the table, grounding myself.
“Roman told me he was using Missy,” I said, my voice quiet but deliberate. “To make me jealous.”
Landon’s brow furrowed, his focus sharpening like a hawk’s. “Convenient explanation. And she went along with that?”
I shook my head, bitterness rising like bile in my throat. “No, it wasn’t just that. She told him she was using him, too.”
Landon blinked, his expression shifting to one of cautious curiosity. “Using him for what?”
“She wouldn’t say,” I admitted. “She was cryptic about it. Roman thought it was some game, like she just didn’t want to let him go because she liked winning, liked having the upper hand for once. She was trying to make someone jealous, but she wouldn’t tell him who.”
“Someone?” Landon pressed. “Did Roman have any idea who she might’ve been trying to get a rise out of?”
I shook my head again, frustration boiling beneath the surface. “No. She didn’t tell him anything concrete, just that she had her reasons. When he tried to break it off with her days before she died, she shut him down. She said he wasn’t finished being useful to her yet.”
Landon’s lips thinned, his eyes narrowing. “And Roman didn’t think to press her harder on that?”
“He tried,” I shot back. “But she refused to give him anything. Roman assumed it was just another power play—her way of keeping control. He didn’t think it mattered because he didn’t want to be part of her games anymore.”
Landon studied me for a long moment, the tension in his silence suffocating. “And where does the kiss fit into all this? The one that started the fight in the first place?”
“It was about making me jealous,” I said bitterly. “But it was about making whoever she was after jealous, too. That’s why they did it in front of everyone.”
Landon tilted his head slightly, his gaze unrelenting. “And Roman went along with it?”
“He regrets it,” I said firmly. “He told me as much the day she died. After I stormed off, he followed me all the way down to the creek behind the barn and told me everything. He said he was in love with me, not Missy. That he was sorry for what he’d done. He said he was sorry for playing stupid games, trying to get me to show him if I cared about him or not, if I wanted him or not.”
“And how did you react to that?” Landon asked, his tone even but his eyes sharp.
I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow in the sterile room. “I didn’t believe him. I thought he was just trying to play me like a fiddle, or maybe get back in my good graces just in case Missy decided she was done with him. I didn’t want to be a second choice, and I didn’t want to have to worry about my best friend waltzing in and snatching the guy I wanted out from under me for her own amusement. I told him I never wanted to see him again. That I was leaving for Miami and not coming back.”
“And after that?”
“I left,” I said simply. “Roman stayed by the creek for a while, and then he went back to the ranch. Missy was still alive when I left. I didn’t see her again after the barn.”
“And you’re certain Roman didn’t go back to her after you left?” Landon pressed.
I met his gaze, unflinching. “I’m certain. He couldn’t have killed her. He was too busy having his heart crushed by me.”
Landon leaned back, his arms crossing over his chest as he processed what I’d said. The silence between us stretched, heavy and oppressive.
“So, to sum up,” he said finally, his voice clipped. “Missy was playing games with both of you. Roman tried to break it off, she refused. Then, days later, she ends up dead after a series of fights with you and a botched confession of love from Roman to you. And you expect me to believe neither of you had anything to do with Missy’s death?”
I exhaled sharply, my frustration boiling over. “I don’t care what you believe, Landon. I’m telling you the truth.”
“If you’re telling me the truth, help me prove it, Zoe! Do you think I want to put two friends I went to school with in jail for another friend’s murder? No. I don’t. Help a guy out, for God’s sake.”
“Fine,” I snapped. “But don’t tell Roman I told you any of this next part, please. It’s… personal.”
“Seems to me there’s a lot of personal feelings tangled up in this mess with Missy, but if it’s relevant, I need to know it.”
I blew out a sigh, grinding my teeth for a moment. I reached across the table and grabbed the file in front of Landon, flipping it open and pointing to Missy’s estimated time of death, tapping it with my finger. “Here’s the hole in your theory, Landon. We weren’t anywhere near the barn at Missy’s estimated time of death.”
“Okay, walk me through it, then. You said Roman followed you to the creek behind the barn. How far is it from the barn? How long were you gone?”
I pursed my lips, a little annoyed by his interruption. “I was getting there, if you’d give me a second.”
“By all means, continue.” Landon waved a hand at me and leaned back in his chair.
I held up a finger, getting ready to start ticking off my list of reasons why his theory was wrong. “First of all, it was a fifteen minute hike from the barn to the creek after my second fight with Missy.”
Landon grimaced. “I never realized the creek was that far away from the barn.”
“It is if you take the hiking path, which I did.” I held up a second finger. “Second, the conversation between Roman and me took almost twenty minutes between him pouring his heart out to me and me refusing to hear him out—we went around and around in circles before I left the creek. He poured his heart out to me and I was so mad I was having none of it. I stomped on his heart as hard as I could and shattered mine, too, in the process.”
“Hell hath no fury like a scorned teenaged girl.” Landon drummed his fingers on the interrogation table, studying me through narrowed eyes.
I winced. “It definitely wasn’t my best moment.”
“What about after you crushed Roman’s heart? What then?”
I held up a third finger. “Then it was a fifteen minute hike back from the creek for me, and Roman stayed behind at the creek, I don’t know for how long. He was… devastated, to say the least.”
“Remind me never to toy with a woman’s emotions just to get a rise out of her.” Landon suppressed a shudder.
I held up a fourth finger, ignoring his quip and plowing ahead. “Missy’s estimated time of death, which this department has thrown in both of our faces multiple times over the last ten years, is smack dab in the middle of that fifty-minute window where Roman and I were away from the barn. If you want to waste your time chasing ghosts instead of finding who really killed Missy, that’s on you.”
His jaw tightened, and he stared at me for a long moment before finally standing.
“I’ll verify your story,” he said. “And if it checks out, maybe I’ll start looking in another direction.”
He turned to leave but hesitated at the door, glancing back at me. “For your sake, Zoe, I hope you’re telling the truth. Because if I find out you’re hiding anything else, there won’t be any deals next time.”
The nagging feeling that there was more to Missy’s death wouldn’t leave me. Whoever she’d been trying to provoke, whoever she’d been keeping from Roman, was still out there. And until we found them, none of us would be free of this.
But I didn’t trust the cops to investigate it properly, not with a guy like Barton in their ranks. Hell, no. I had my own plans to figure this shit out, if I could just get the hell out of this interrogation room.
I nodded once, the tension in my shoulders easing ever so slightly. “There won’t need to be. That’s everything, Landon. Everything I know.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he stood, gathering the file in front of him. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Zoe. I just hope you’re as good at it as you think you are.”
He turned and walked out, leaving me alone in the interrogation room, the silence pressing down on me like a vice. I exhaled shakily, my fingers trembling as I rested them on the table.
The truth was out now, at least most of it. I’d protected Roman, not telling Landon that Roman knew about the second fight. Landon didn’t need to know that because Roman wasn’t the killer. I knew that much. And whatever happened next, I’d made my choice. There was no turning back.