Page 54 of Deceit & Desire

“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.”

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