Page 90 of Ruthless Regret

Holson hesitates, his eyes darting to the side. “Ramsey asked me to handle it. He said being younger, I might have a gentler touch with a traumatized kid. He said I’d be able to connect better with her. Less intimidating, I suppose.”

“And you didn’t find that strange?” McFadden presses, leaning forward slightly. There’s something in the way he delivers the question that makes it clear he’s not buying Holson’s excuse.

Holson shifts, looking more uncomfortable by the second. “At the time, no. I was flattered, I guess. Thought he was showing faith in me.”

Flattered.

Something isn’t adding up, I can feel it in my gut. Holson’s lying or leaving something out. I’m sure of it.

McFadden studies Holsen. “But it wasn’t just the interview with Ms. Trumont, was it? You also led the interrogation with the suspect, Zain Ryder. That's a lot of responsibility for a junior detective, handlingbothelements of the case.”

“Ramsey wanted me to lead that too. Said it was important to have continuity, keep things consistent.”

“Continuity … I see.” McFadden adjusts position in his seat, his tone turning sharper. “During that interrogation, you brought up something pretty significant, something that played a big part in the trial later as motive. Louisa Conway’spregnancy. That information wasn’t public knowledge. How did you come by it?”

He blinks, caught off guard. “I … what?”

“Louisa’s pregnancy,” McFadden repeats. “It wasn’t public knowledge. In fact, only Jason and Zain knew about it. So how did you know?”

The color drains from Holson’s face so fast, I almost expect him to pass out. “I … what?”

“Louisa’s pregnancy,” McFadden repeats. “It wasn’t public knowledge. In fact, only Jason and Zain knew about it. So, how didyouknow?”

Holson’s eyes widen, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. “I must have … Ramsey must have told me.”

“But how did Ramsey know?” McFadden’s question hangs in the air, a trap set with perfect precision.

“I don’t … I’m not sure. There must have been something at the scene. A scan image, maybe.”

I take a step closer to the glass, my heart pounding. That’s complete bullshit, and Holson knows it.

McFadden’s expression doesn’t change. “Let’s talk about the case itself. Did you have any doubts during the investigation about Mr. Ryder’s guilt?”

There’s a long pause before Holson answers, and I swear I can see the cracks forming in his resolve. “I … I had theories. Things didn’t add up. The evidence, the timeline ... but Ramsey shut down every question. Said it was handled.”

“What kind of theories?”

Holson shakes his head. “Just ... thoughts. Ideas about what might have happened. But Ramsey was so certain about everything, so quick to wrap it all up.”

“And you went along with it, without raising any questions?” McFadden’s voice hardens.

“What was I supposed to do?” Holson’s voice breaks. “He was my superior. And by the time I really started to doubt, it was too late. Ryder had already been convicted.”

That’s it. I can’t take it anymore. Before I can stop myself, I’m through the door and in the interrogation room. McFadden stands up and blocks my approach, but I sidestep him and keep moving. My attention is on Holson, on the man who sat by and let my life be destroyed.

“What theories?” I slam my hands down on the table in front of him. The impact rattles the metal, and Holson jumps. “What did you suspect? What did Ramsey know?”

“Ryder?”He gapes up at me.

“Answer the fucking questions!” My shout bounces off the walls.

The detective blanches. “I swear, Idon’tknow what Ramsey knew. He never shared it with me. But something wasn’t right.” He almost trips over his tongue in his hurry to reply. “The way he handled the case, how quickly he dismissed any evidence that didn’t fit ...”

“And you never thought to question that? To take your concerns to someone else?”

Holson flinches, his eyes dropping to the table as he swallows hard. “It wasn’t that simple,” he mutters. “Ramsey was ... he was good at making you believe he knew best.”

“So you just went along with framing an innocent man?” My voice is flat.

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