Page 76 of Landon

The flight to Bellehaven felt like an eternity to Landon. Every second that ticked by without a response from Noel was another punch to his gut. Why was she at Roy Barton’s house? He scrubbed his hand over his face, forcing himself to shove aside the barrage of questions and focus on what mattered: getting to her. Keeping her safe.

Sadie discovered that Roy had called Noel when she was on the road.He must've luredher there with something—some questions or a legal need for the Fugates' case.It was the only thing Landon could think of that would make her deviate from traveling home to go to the attorney's house.

Sadie radioed, “According to her lighthouse necklace tracker, she’s still there.”

Yeah, but that doesn't mean she was unharmed.

Cole set the helicopter down on an expansive grassy area next to the Bellehaven tennis courts. Logan had notified their FBI contact, alerting them to the severity of the situation, but Landon didn’t care about the bureaucratic red tape. He’d tear through it himself if it meant getting to Noel faster.

As soon as they touched down, he, Devil, and Frazier alighted from the bird and, with night vision goggles, raced to the back of the park area to get to Roy's house quicker than along the road.

As he raced through the shadows with night vision goggles, Cole stayed behind to meet with the FBI and secure the perimeter. Landon pushed forward, heart pounding as they reached the edge of the trees overlooking Roy’s property. It was immaculate, with neatly trimmed hedges and meticulously arranged flower beds. His eyes were locked on the house, searching, desperate.

The three Keepers crouched, assessing the structure. The large back window offered a clear view of the family room, and to the left, a wide kitchen window illuminated the space beyond. Landon’s heart nearly stopped when he saw Roy’s hand on Noel, gripping her arm as she swayed, her movements unsteady. A few wineglasses on the counter suggested she might have been drinking, but he knew Noel. She was careful. Whatever Roy had given her, it had been with intent.

“I have the kitchen,” Frazier said over the radio, his voice steady and calm.

“Front door,” Devil confirmed.

Landon moved like a shadow, sliding up to the patio doors that separated the kitchen from the family room. His eyes flicked to Noel, taking in her glazed, wide-eyed look. Her body swayed slightly, and he felt a spike of white-hot rage, imagining what Roy could have slipped into her drink. She looked terrified but too dazed to escape.

“Going in,” Devil said before he kicked open the front door, the sound echoing through the house.

Roy whipped around, instinctively pulling Noel closer, his hand grabbing a large kitchen knife. Before Landon could blink, Frazier took his shot, shattering the patio doors and creating anopening. Landon surged forward, adrenaline and fury propelling him through the broken glass.

He locked onto Roy, his weapon raised, every nerve in his body taut. Roy’s grip was bruising as he held Noel in front of him, his hand now holding the knife too close to her. Noel’s dilated eyes darted to Landon as fear filled the space.

Landon ripped off his night goggles, keeping his weapon fixed on Roy. “Drop the knife and step away from her,” he commanded, his voice low and lethal. “And tell me what the hell you gave her.”

Roy hesitated, feigning innocence as he carefully laid the knife on the counter. “We were simply having a drink,” he said, his tone overly smooth. “How dare you burst into my house and threaten me!”

“Lan…don?” Noel’s voice was faint, barely a whisper. She was blinking, struggling to focus, and it sent a fresh wave of fury through him.

Landon gritted his teeth, stepping closer. “What did you give her?”

“We were simply drinking, and she's unused to mead,” Roy said.

“Let her go, now,” he said, his voice like steel.

Roy’s lips pinched together.

Landon’s eyes narrowed, and he advanced, his tone slicing through the tension. “We know you had a stash of drugs you kept after your mother passed. The same drugs you used to give her.”

Roy’s mask faltered, his eyes widening for just a split second before he forced a smirk, tightening his grip on Noel. Her head lolled slightly, and Landon’s stomach churned at the sight.

“And we know you contracted Mike Westerly to poison Pamela Fugate. You think we haven’t pieced it together?”

Roy sneered. “You wouldn’t understand. Some things are family matters.”

“No,” Landon replied, his voice low and laced with fury. “The only business here is getting Noel out of this house.”

Roy’s grip on Noel slackened just slightly as his resolve wavered. It was all Landon needed. He lunged forward, grabbing Roy’s wrist and twisting it sharply, forcing him to release her. Roy stumbled back as Landon pulled Noel into his arms, one hand protectively around her shoulders.

“Noel,” he said softly, cradling her against him, his voice gentler now as he ignored Roy’s blustering protests. “What did you drink? I need you to remember.”

She blinked up at him, dazed and pale, glancing toward the counter. “I… I had a few sips of white wine and… and honey wine,” she murmured, her voice shaky. Her eyes, wide and unfocused, met his. “Something’s… wrong, Landon.”

Landon’s gaze snapped back to Roy, and he took a menacing step forward, voice like ice. “You made a mistake, Barton. We have evidence of the calls you made to Mike in Jamaica, and the poison vial? It has your fingerprints.” He was bluffing—fingerprint results hadn’t come back yet—but he was banking on Roy’s reaction. He inclined his head toward the wineglasses and bottles. “And you haven't gotten rid of the evidence here.”

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