Page 51 of Ruthless Regret

Reaching for my phone, I go into the caller list and hit a number. The phone barely rings before Rook picks up.

“Zain.”

“I need Knight to find someone for me. My mom mentioned a guy asking questions after the murders. He didn’t give her a name, but she insists he wasn’t part of the investigation.”

There’s a slight pause, then Rook replies, voice brisk. “Alright. Tell me everything you know.”

“She only saw him once, after Jason and Louisa were killed. He was asking around, knew specific details that weren’t public. Not a cop. Didn’t show a badge or any kind of ID.”

“That’s not much to go on.”

“I know, but I do have something else. There’s a mention of an unidentified fingerprint found on the front door. No follow-up.”

“You think the prints and this guy might be connected?”

“I don’t know, but it’s worth looking into, right? The police had me, so I don’t think they cared about looking into anything else.”

Rook doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll call Knight. You’re sure they didn’t run the print through the system?”

“It was only a partial print. There’s no record of them running it.”

“Then we’re looking for a ghost. But the kind of ghosts in my line of work sometimes leave trails. I’ll see what I can find.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

I drop my phone onto the table, and go back to staring at the screen in front of me. Knight is the best at what he does, but I dowonder if even he can find a man who left nothing behind but a set of prints no one bothered to check.

Closing the laptop, I stand up. Maybe I should go for a run and burn off some of the adrenaline spiking through me. I need answers, but I need something else too.

Control.

I can’t control what the cops didn’t do back then, and I can’t go back and change the trial that ruined my life. But Icancontrol this moment. I can control what I do next. I can chase this lead, and try to find this guy.

One way or another, I’m going to find out the truth.

My cell buzzes with an incoming message.

Rook: Knight’s on it. He’ll contact you when he has something.

I don’t bother to reply. Neither of us are the type who need to say more than what’s necessary. Instead, I reach for my coffee cup. It’s cold when I take a sip, and my lips twist at the bitter taste. Putting it back down, I think about my next move. I can’t just sit around and wait for answers to fall into my lap. There has to be more.

I glance at the time on my cell’s screen. It’s late, but not too late. I’ve got a few hours before I’ll attempt to sleep, if that’s even possible. Maybe I will go for that run. It’ll clear my head.

Knight’s on the case now. One way or another, we’re going to find out what really happened back then. I’m not giving them another chance to bury the truth.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

ASHLEY

Another night.Another nightmare. But this one is different from the night before. It’s like I’m watching a scene of a play from a seat in the audience … and yet I’m living through it at the same time.

Instead of the man with a knife coming for me; instead of Jason’s bloody face, or Zain’s cold eyes; I’m the one being arrested for my brother’s murder. My hands are bound, wrists raw from the cuffs digging into my skin, and I’m screaming, trying to make myself heard.

I’m standing in the middle of the room—the same room where Jason and Louisa were murdered—and instead of Zain, it’smethey’re looking at.

Me!

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