Page 16 of Ruthless Regret

“Then I guess you did what you wanted with the interview. You’ve caught someone’s attention.”

“Which makes me all the more determined to find out who it is, and bring them to justice.”

“You thought you knew who it was. All evidence pointed toward them.”

“Maybe they have an accomplice. A way to redirect attention.”

“Do you think so? It’s an angle we could look at.”

I sigh. “No, I don’t. It wouldn’t make sense.”

“Look,” Rook’s voice is careful. “Are you sure this is about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it. If this is someone going after Ashley, maybe it’s not because of you. Maybe there are things about her that you don’t know about.”

I’m upright and pacing again, my mind tossing possible scenarios around.

What if there is something more? What if she knows something that she hasn’t shared? What if it’s another one of those repressed memories like not remembering her initial interview? What if she knows who the murderer is, and just doesn’t remember?

“Zain? Are you still there?”

My grip tightens on the phone. “I’m here. I’m just thinking. What did Knight send me?”

“The unsanitized case files. Interviews with neighbors, police reports, crime scene reports. It took some digging to find them, but it appears that the files used in the trial had been heavily edited. He said he’s happy to run an investigation of his own, if you want him too, but he thought you might like to see everything he has.”

I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Yeah.”

“There are photographs.” There’s a warning in Rook’s voice.

“I doubt there’s anything I haven’t seen before.”

“Maybe not, but I’m still going to suggest caution when you look. It’s been a long time.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

ASHLEY

“Go and pack.If we leave soon, we can be back home before it’s dark.”

Before I can reply to Jessa, there’s a knock at the front door.

“That will probably be the sheriff,” my mom says. “I’ll let him in.”

“No. I’ll do it.” I walk through the house.

“Ms. Trumont,” he greets me when I open the door, then quickly corrects himself. “Mrs. Ryder.”

I swallow hard.Mrs. Ryder—I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being called that. Not that I’ll need to. As soon as I go back to New York, I’ll look into seeing if I can get the marriage annulled.

“Come in.”

He steps inside. “I know you’ve been through a lot today, but I’d appreciate it if you can just go through what happened at the house with me.”

I lead him into the living room, and wave a hand at one of the chairs. I remain standing. I’m not sure I can stay still. I’m still on edge, and my head feels like it’s about to explode.

“How are you feeling? What happened must have been very traumatic.”

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