All Chapters of Using Your Rules Against You: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

"24 hours? Are you kidding me?"Denise Holt stared at me in disbelief."My daughter's been abducted! What the hell are you people standing around for? Her phone's dead, and the last location ping came from that abandoned brick factory on the east side."Her ex just got out of rehab. It's obviously him!"My voice was steady, like I was reading from a procedure manual. "According to protocol, we can't open a case on a missing adult until the 24-hour mark, not without clear evidence of an abduction or physical violence."Denise was getting frantic, her voice climbing until she was practically shouting. "Her ex has a history of violence! He's beaten her multiple times! And he's got a drug record on top of it! How is that not enough?"Send someone! Go save her!"My expression didn't change. "I understand how you feel."She looked me up and down, her eyes shifting from desperate to contemptuous. "Who are you, anyway? Do you have any idea who my father is?"There it was.I'd waited

I said, "I didn't make an enemy out of him. I just didn't make an exception for him.""You—" Captain Garrett was so angry that he couldn't finish his sentence. He waved me off. "Go write up an incident report. And stay off the internet for the next few days. No interviews."I went back to the office and opened my computer. The story was still blowing up, and the comment sections had picked up tens of thousands more posts.Someone had dug up my badge number. Someone else was threatening to show up at the precinct with protest signs. And another commenter was claiming I'd "definitely been paid off by Kyle Warren".Doug walked over with his mug and glanced at me. He looked like he wanted to say something and thought better of it, but he said it anyway."Quinn, just hear me out on this. Swallow your pride and apologize. You're still young. Don't throw your whole career away over this."Kevin chimed in from the side. "For real, Quinn. Why pick a fight you don't need to have? Chief Hol

The live viewer count jumped from three million to five.I pulled the yellowed dispatch log out of the envelope and held it up to the camera."This is the dispatch log that Frank Holt wrote by hand 32 years ago, when he was deputy station chief. It reads, 'Domestic dispute. Advised to resolve privately. Request denied.' His signature is at the bottom."My hand was steady."I've had this piece of paper for 32 years. I fished it out of a trash can, hid it under my pillow, carried it with me through the academy, and brought it into the detective division. The paper is barely holding together, but the words are still there."Frank probably assumed that this thing disintegrated a long time ago, the same way he assumed my sister's life wasn't worth remembering."I turned the paper over and held it toward the camera. The handwriting, date, and signature were all unmistakably clear."32 years later, his daughter walks into my precinct and reports that her daughter has been taken. So I d

The trending list told the whole story."Frank Holt's Dereliction of Duty Led to a Death.""Frank Holt Stripped of Retirement Benefits.""The Dispatch Log from 32 Years Ago.""Allison Avery, Age 17.""Female Cop's 32-Year Fight for Justice.""Frank Holt Referred for Criminal Prosecution."The comment sections flipped completely. People who had been tearing me apart were now deleting their posts, issuing apologies, or digging through Frank's career history.Someone unearthed a local newspaper clipping from August 1992 about an unidentified female body found by the highway. With no ID and too few leads, the case had been dropped without resolution."Dropped without resolution." Those words were back in the public eye again. But this time, there would be no dropping it.The state police department assembled a task force to reopen the 1992 kidnapping and death investigation. The van driver had long since disappeared and was likely dead, but every piece of the case was reexamined

"Quinn," Frank said my name, his voice so raw that it sounded like it was being scraped out of him."Frank," I said his name.He was quiet for a long time."Your sister... What was her name again?""Allison.""Allison." He repeated it and nodded. "Allison."He was quiet again."I can't sleep," he said suddenly. "Every night, I can't sleep. The second I close my eyes, I see a young girl on her knees, begging and crying so hard that she can barely breathe. I can't remember her face anymore, but the sound..."He paused. "The sound won't go away."I looked at him. "So now you hear it?"He didn't answer. His hand kept shaking."I want to tell her I'm sorry," he said, even quieter. "Your sister."I stood up. "It's too late for that."I turned and walked toward the door. When I reached it, I stopped but didn't look back."Frank, what you owe my sister can't be paid back in one lifetime. But you've got six years. Start there."I then left the visitation room. There was no sound