CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
ZAIN
Ashley leans in, squinting at the digital files we've been poring over for hours. I swipe through another document, the frustration building with each passing second.
"This is getting us nowhere," she says, voicing the same thought that's been gnawing at me.
I lean back in my chair, and rub the back of my neck, trying to ease the kink from being bent over the laptop. "There has to be something we're missing. Some connection we're not seeing."
Ashley nods, her eyes still fixed on the screen. "We've gone through the police reports a dozen times. The timelines, the evidence logs, your interrogation, my testimony ..." She frowns.
"What is it?"
"It's just ... we keep focusing on Ramsey. The way he behaved during my interview, what he might have done. But he wasn't the only one involved in the investigation."
"Holson."
Ashley's eyes meet mine, a spark of excitement in them. "He was there for everything. He saw how Ramsey handled the case, how he ... how he manipulated me."
"And if Ramsey was willing to pressure a traumatized kid into changing her story ..."
"Then Holson might know about other things Ramsey did," Ashley finishes. "Things that never made it into the official reports."
I'm already reaching for my phone before she finishes speaking. "We need to talk to him. Dig deeper, and there’s only one way to make that happen."
I dial McFadden's number, and it seems like the energy in the room shifts. We're onto something, a lead that could break this whole case wide open, I’m sure of it.
The phone rings twice before McFadden picks up. "Ryder. What now?"
"I need to talk to Holson."
There's a pause on the other end of the line. "That's not going to happen. You know I can't let you interrogate a detective."
"I'm not asking to interrogate him. I'm asking you to bring him in again, and let me be there when you question him." I catch Ashley's gaze as I speak, and something flickers in her eyes. Interest? Concern? I can't quite read it.
"And why would I do that?"
"Because you know how important it is to find the truth." I stand up, pacing the length of the kitchen. "Holson knows things, McFadden. Things he didn't share the first time around. You bring him in, question him, and I'll be there to catch anything you might miss."
The silence stretches out, and I can almost hear the gears turning in McFadden's head.
"Fine," he says finally. "But you're there as an observer only. You don't speak unless I say so. Understood?"
"Crystal clear."
I hang up and turn back to Ashley. She's watching me intently, and for a moment, I'm struck by how different she looks from the woman I threatened and bullied less than a week ago. There's a strength in her now, a determination that mirrors my own.
"He agreed," I slide my phone back into my pocket.
"I heard. So, what now?"
"Now, we prepare." I sit down across from her, leaning forward. "We need to think about what we want to ask Holson, what details we're looking for."
Ashley pulls up a new document on the laptop. "Let's start with the timeline. There were inconsistencies that were never addressed."
I nod, feeling a surge of ... something. Appreciation ?
"Good idea. We should also ask about the evidence that was dismissed. The partial fingerprint, the conflicting witness statements."
"And what about Ramsey?" Her fingers are poised over the keyboard.
“The knife went missing before the trial. I think he made sure it disappeared, so it couldn’t be tested for prints or DNA.”
"Well, we know he manipulated me into changing my testimony about the knife, so that would make sense. What else might he have done?"
The question hangs in the air, heavy with implications. I consider it carefully before answering. "If he was willing to manipulate a thirteen-year-old girl, there's no telling what else he might have done. We need to look at his approach to the entire case."
"I was so young. So scared. It's no wonder I believed what he told me. What else did he make me think was true?"
"That's what we need to find out," I say, my voice softening. "You were just a kid, Ashley. Traumatized and vulnerable. Ramsey knew exactly how to exploit that." As the words leave my mouth, I'm struck by how different my view of her is now.
The entire time I was in prison, I blamed her completely for my incarceration. I saw her as the villain, the one who stole my life. But now, looking at her across the table, I can’t deny the truth I’m faced with.
She was just a child, a kid caught in something far bigger than herself. The real villain was Ramsey, and a legal system that allowed him to manipulate a traumatized kid because he wanted an easy win.
How much anger have I wasted on her? How much time have I spent plotting revenge against someone who was as much a victim as I was? The truth of it all threatens to overwhelm me.
Ashley nods, oblivious to my thoughts as her fingers move across the keyboard. "So we need to ask Holson about Ramsey's tactics, especially how he handled child witnesses like me before."
"Exactly," I say, pulling myself back to the present. "And we need to know if there were any off-the-record conversations, any pressure from higher up to close the case quickly. Holson might have seen or heard things that didn't make it into the official reports."
We spend the next hour going over every detail we can think of, building a list of questions and points to address. By the time we're done, the tension in the room has shifted. It's no longer just about the case. There's something else crackling in the air between us, an awareness I'm not sure how to handle.
I glance at the clock, surprised by how much time has passed. "We should go out and grab something to eat before we head to the station. Clear our heads."
Ashley looks up, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "You want to go out? Together?"
"Unless you'd rather stay here."
What are you doing? Why the fuck would she want to be seen with you?
She shakes her head. "No, going out sounds good. I could use some fresh air."
We stand to leave the kitchen, and both reach for the laptop at the same time. Our hands brush, and a jolt of electricity shoots up my arm. Ashley freezes, her eyes widening slightly as they meet mine.
For a moment, we're both silent, staring at each other.
I clear my throat, taking a step back. "After you."