Page 115 of Ruthless Intent

“Ashley watched it this morning.”

She looks over her shoulder at the door leading into the hallway. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to understand why she changed her story.”

“Changed her story?” Esme frowns. “What do you mean?”

“The first part of the recording is her alone with the two detectives. She told them I wasn’t holding the knife.”

“She told them … Wait, they interviewed a minor without an adult?”

“That’s why it wasn’t allowed to be used in the trial. When your husband arrived and they restarted the interview, she’d changed her story to say I was holding the knife when she arrived. You didn’t know?”

“Bryan never told me she was interviewed before he got there, no.”

“She says she doesn’t remember it happening.”

“That’s … odd.”

I’m watching the older woman carefully, looking for any signs that she is already aware of the things I’m telling her. But her reaction appears to be one of genuine confusion and surprise, which I hate to admit gives some credence to Ashley’s claim that my mom said it could have been a false memory.

I file away that bit of information to ask my mother about when we go back to the house.

“She was a little distressed when she watched the recording.”

“What do you mean a little distressed?”

“She got it into her head to run away. It was obviously a fight or flight instinct, and in her panic she bolted. I had to follow her through the forest behind the house. She tripped and fell. Hit her head and scraped her knees.”

Why am I telling her that? Mostly to see how she reacts. And also to lay the foundation of when Ashley comes back, just in case her mother spots the scrape on her head.

“She ran away?”

“It could have been triggered by the memory of that night.” It wasn’t, but it could have been. “Once I caught up with her, she calmed down and came back home with me.”

Esme sighs. “Zain, I have to ask you … are you spending time with my daughter because you like her or because you want to hurt her?”

The question hangs between us.

The answer should be simple. It is simple. At least the one I’m supposed to respond with, anyway. I should tell her it’s because I like her.

The truth is supposed to be because I want to hurt her.

Yet I hesitate … because now it’s a combination of both, mixed in with a new plan which could hurt her in a whole other way.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

ASHLEY

I place my foot on each step carefully, hoping I can remember which ones creak and where I need to step to avoid it. It’s not easy, especially carrying the small suitcase I’ve packed, but I think I get to the bottom without making any noise and alerting either of them to my presence.

I am not creeping down the stairs, in the hopes that I can overhear what Zain is saying to my mom.

I refuse to acknowledge the surge of disappointment when I walk into the living room, to find Zain sitting at one end of the couch, a mug of coffee in his hand, and looking like he’s the most relaxed person on the planet.

My mom is talking about the store she owns in town, her voice animated and one hand waving along with her words.

“I’m ready.” My voice comes out sharper than I intend, and two pairs of eyes turn toward me.

---