Chapter 3: Confession in the Cell

At the county jail, I finally met the suspect: Derek Harris.

A guard buzzed me in, made me empty my pockets, and led me down a hallway that reeked of bleach and old coffee. Derek was tall and thin, probably early thirties, with the kind of youthful face you’d expect from a grad student—except for his eyes. They were dark, steady, the kind you only see in people who’ve spent too much time locked away.

I cut right to it: Why me?

He shrugged. "Doesn’t matter."

He fixed me with a gaze that didn’t flinch. "Ms. Bennett, if you take my case, I’ll tell you everything."

I didn’t hide my skepticism. "The investigation’s over, and the evidence is stacked against you. What’s left to say?"

He just said, "A lot—enough to change everything about this case."

I paused, searching his face. "Are you working with someone?"

"No."

"Trying to stir up some drama?"

He cracked a tiny smile. "Ms. Bennett, you read too many detective novels."

I looked him dead in the eye. "Did you kill your brother?"

"Yes." His answer was instant.

"Excuse me? Say that again."

"I killed him."

He met my eyes, steady and unblinking. For a second, all I could hear was the hum of the fluorescent light overhead.

Something in me snapped to attention. "But you never confessed to the police. Why tell me now?"

He was cool as ice. "I had my reasons for staying quiet with them. But you’re my lawyer—I’ll tell you the truth. No lies."

"Uh, I haven’t said yes yet." I scratched my head, feeling the weight of the room. "You’re admitting to murder, and your record isn’t helping you. This looks bad."

He didn’t blink. "Don’t worry, I won’t let you lose. And I’ll pay you well."

In the end, I signed the retainer agreement. I stared at my signature, the ink still wet. It felt like crossing a line, one I couldn’t uncross.

Honestly, I’d made up my mind before I even walked in. Part of me was just plain fascinated. Part of me was young enough not to be scared of failing. And, yeah, being picked for something big felt good—better than sorting out who gets the family dog after a breakup.

The firm had no objections. Maybe they were just as curious as I was.