Page 37 of Ruthless Intent

“Everyone’s truth is based upon their perception of things. Ashley absolutely believed every word she said, based upon what she thought she saw.”

“Why are you defending her?”

“I’m not. Maybe I just want to move on with my life? And to do that I need to make peace with the people who destroyed so much of it.” It sounds good in principle, but the reality is that I need to see her suffer the way I have.

“Are you planning on having dinner with everyone who said you were guilty?”

“Probably not.” I turn back to my mom. “Mom?”

“There’s a nice little Italian place near the seafront. It’s perfect for private conversations. They have it set up so each table is sheltered and separate from the rest. Would that suit?”

“It’d be perfect.”

“Would you like me to book a table for you?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, thank you. Can you make it for seven-thirty?” I walk past them both and into the house. “I need to give Peter his keys back. I don’t suppose there’s a car I can use?”

“Speak to your father. There’s something in the garage that I’m sure he’ll want to show you.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

I find Peter and my dad in his office. Their conversation cuts off when I enter. I don’t ask what they’re talking about. Unless it involves me, they’re not going to share. I hand Peter the keys.

“Mom said to talk to you about a car.” I sit in the empty seat in front of Dad’s desk.

“I was just telling Peter how much I appreciate the work he did to get you home.” My dad pulls open a drawer and takes out a set of keys, then sets them on the desk. “What’s the next step?”

“Next step?”

“Surely, we’re not going to leave it at you being released. Whoever did it needs to pay.”

“It’s been a long time. I’m not sure we’ll ever find out who did it. If they didn’t commit another similar crime afterward, I doubt they’ll suddenly appear to commit one now.”

“We’re currently working on compensation for wrongful incarceration,” Peter says. “I’ve also spoken to the police, who have confirmed that they’ll look back into the case.”

“I’ve hired someone to do a private investigation. I doubt there’s anything to find, but I don’t trust the police to get it right,” I add.

Dad doesn’t seem shocked by that. He just nods.

“That’s a good idea. I was going to suggest we do that, but wanted to give you some time to get settled first.”

“I’ve wasted enough time.”

“Son, you were barely an adult when you were taken from us.” His voice is gentle. “You became a man in an environment that required a way of life you should never have needed to experience. It’s going to take more than a couple of hours to adjust.”

“I’m fine.” This isn’t a conversation I want to have. I don’t even want to think about it. “I just came in to see if I can borrow a car for the evening.”

“Where are you going?”

“Dinner.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Peter twists on his seat to face me.

“Very wise.” I lean back on the seat. “It’s all part of my plan.”

“Plan?” Dad’s eyes move from me to Peter and back again.

Peter sighs.

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