Page 29 of Done Dirty

“Good riddance,” he said.

“Is that right?” Jack said.

“Yeah, that’s right.” He took a step toward us. “Wade Rivers went after married women and didn’t care who he hurt. I tried to handle it the right way. Went to him like a man, face-to-face, told him to stay away from my wife.” He shook his head. “He stood there and smiled at me. Like I was the joke.” His voice had gone mean and low. “I’m not a joke.”

“We have some questions,” Jack said.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you.” He pointed at the door. “You want to ask me questions, you make an appointment. You don’t just walk into my office at the end of my workday and start asking me about some⁠—”

“We can do this here or we can do it at the station,” Jack said. He hadn’t raised his voice once.

“Get out!” He jabbed a finger toward the door, his voice going up another register. “If you had something on me you wouldn’t be standing here asking nicely. So you can take your badge and shove it. My taxes pay your salary.”

I took a small step back without meaning to. Not fear exactly—more like my body making a decision my brain hadn’t caught up to yet.

“Mr. Ferriday—” Jack started.

Holt’s right shoulder dropped half an inch and he stepped forward and threw a punch from his hip, all his weight behind it.

Jack slipped inside it, got a grip on Holt’s forearm and the back of his collar, and used Holt’s own momentum to put him flat on the floor. Fast and quiet—no wasted motion. Holt hit the carpet hard enough that the project photos rattled on the wall.

I had to confess there was a primal part of me that enjoyed watching Jack dominate another man like an animal. The other part of me was scared to my toes.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Jack said. “You’re going to answer a few questions, and then we’re going to leave. Or I’m going to put you in cuffs and we can do this somewhere less comfortable. What works for you?”

Holt’s breath was audible.

“Questions,” he said.

Jack stood and offered him a hand. Holt didn’t take it. He pushed himself up, straightened his polo, and put three feet of distance between himself and Jack. His jaw was still set, his fists still loosely closed, but he was breathing through his nose now instead of his teeth.

“You went into his studio,” Jack said. “Made a scene in front of clients. What made you think there was an affair?”

Holt’s jaw worked. “I’m not stupid. Sloane started coming home different after those sessions. Distracted. Happy in a way she wasn’t before.” He crossed his arms. “And I found texts on her phone.”

“What kind of texts?”

“The kind you don’t send your Pilates instructor.” His voice had gone hard. “Personal. Flirty. She deleted them fast but not fast enough.”

“Did you confront her?”

“I confronted him. That’s where the problem was.”

“We have witnesses who say you threatened to kill him.”

Holt’s expression shifted. “I was upset. I said things. That was months ago.”

“What did Wade say back to you?”

Holt’s jaw tightened. “Said there was nothing going on. Said Sloane was a client and I was embarrassing myself.” He paused. “Said if I came back in his studio again he’d have me arrested for trespassing.”

“Did you believe him?”

“That he was a liar? Yeah. I believed that.”

“We spoke to a witness who told us Wade thought your jealousy was good for your marriage. That it spiced things up for the two of you. Is that true?”

Holt’s face went red. “Who told you that?”