Page 47 of Deceit & Desire

I wrapped a protective arm around Zoe’s shoulders, pulling her close as Landon stopped in front of us, hands on hips.

“What the hell is all this?” I growled before Landon even got the chance to open his mouth.

Landon swore softly and blew out a long-suffering sigh, staring down at his boots for a long moment before clearing his throat and speaking.

“A Twisted Creek Ranch truck was caught on camera firebombing the evidence repository last night…” He paused, glancing at Zoe before continuing, his voice softening as he continued, “Zoe, you know I wouldn’t be here if this wasn’t serious. The sheriff asked me and Deputy Barton to bring you both in for questioning. He thinks it was done to destroy evidence connected to Missy’s death.”

Zoe took a half-step toward Landon, her green eyes blazing with frustration. “Landon, this is my family. Do you really think Roman or I would ever do something like that? You’ve known us our whole lives.”

Landon blew out a long-suffering sigh and removed his hat, running a hand through his hair. When he spoke again, his tone was quieter, almost pleading.

“I don’t, Zoe. You know I don’t. But this isn’t about what I think—it’s about what the sheriff thinks. And with the Twisted Creek name attached to that truck…”

Landon’s voice faltered and he let the sentence trail off, clearly uncomfortable with the direction it was taking. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and turned his gaze to me.

“Look, Roman, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me to be. Your father-in-law just got home from the hospital, and this is the last thing your family needs right now. But my hands are tied. You can come quietly, or I’ll have to cuff you. I’m hoping you’ll make this easy—for everyone’s sake.”

I stepped forward, my protective instincts blazing to life.

I bared my teeth, barely resisting the urge to grab him by his shirt and shake him until his teeth rattled. When I spoke, my voice was a near-feral growl. “You’re not cuffing anybody, Landon. Not where Zoe’s dad might see it. He’s been through enough already?—”

Zoe reached up and pressed her palm against my racing heart, her gentle, insistent touch instantly grounding me.

“What Roman means to say is that we’ll cooperate fully because we have nothing to hide. But you’d better believe I’m going to be calling Sheriff Spencer personally to set this straight. We didn’t firebomb anything, Landon. Roman and I both want whoever killed Missy brought to justice, same as you.” Her voice was surprisingly steady, but laced with quiet anger as she stared Landon down.

Landon nodded, his expression a mix of relief and regret. “I know, Zoe. I know you’d never?—”

He stopped himself short, clearing his throat, remembering that he needed to remain neutral because of his job, regardless of the fact that he’d graduated with Zoe, regardless of his personal thoughts about who she was and what she would or wouldn’t be capable of. He swallowed hard, schooling his features into a neutral expression before he spoke again.

“Let’s get this over with quickly, alright? I’ll make sure you’re treated with respect at the station.”

I reached out, catching Landon’s elbow in a light grip, keeping my voice low. “Somebody’s going to have to explain to Mr. Brandt about where we’re going and why. Between you and me, I’d rather it be you than Deputy Barton, Landon. If you’re doing it, I know you’ll do it with tact and respect? Him? Not so much.”

Landon nodded. “I can send him on to the station with one of you. Who would you rather that be? ‘Cause he’s going to start interrogating whoever it is as soon as you get there, and being that he’s good buddies with Michael Carter… he might not use the kind of neutrality and respect I’d be inclined to use in my own line of questioning, if you get my drift.”

I stepped forward without an ounce of hesitation. “I’ll go ahead with Barton. Zoe can ride in with you. That way, I know my wife will be treated with the respect she deserves, and this situation will be handled with tact?—”

Just then, Miss Smith stomped out onto the porch, hands on hips, scowling as she strode over to us. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but Mr. Brandt is going to be out of the shower soon, and I think it’d be a good idea for the deputies to cut their damn lights off before he sees them. Stress isn’t conducive to the healing process, and he’s had a stressful enough morning as it is?—”

Zoe ducked her head, her cheeks burning with shame, and I shot the nurse a warning glare that made her snap her mouth shut and reassess how she was wording things.

“Sorry, Zoe, I didn’t mean to sound like I was judging you. I’m not, I promise. It’s just that stress really isn’t good for the healing process, and these police lights are for sure going to set him off. As his live-in nurse, I don’t want it to affect his healing or his treatment program, so please have the cops cut the damn lights off, and do it quick.”

Landon nodded and pulled out his radio. “Barton, cut the lights off on both the trucks before Mr. Brandt’s nurse eats us alive.”

Deputy Barton killed the lights in the SUV he was sitting in, then got out and ambled over to Landon’s SUV, taking his sweet time to do the same.

Olivia glared at him, still hands-on-hips. “That one’s a real asshole, isn’t he?”

Landon snorted and covered his mouth to hide a wicked grin, fighting to school his features into a mask of neutral professionalism before he responded. “It wouldn’t be professional of me to comment on that, ma’am.”

The nurse arched a brow at him and offered him a sharp half-smile. “Who’s asking you to be professional, deputy? I don’t recall asking any such thing.”

Landon’s eyebrows shot up and he grinned. “Lady… you’re trouble.”

“Probably.” She shrugged, flicking an invisible piece of lint off her scrubs. “I’m going to go check on my patient now that y’all aren’t set to give him a damn stroke with those idiotic cop lights of yours. Have a nice day, deputy.”

“Not fucking likely, considering what’s on the agenda today,” Landon muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face.

---