I used to think that interrogation tropes that you saw on television were just that. Tropes. However, sitting in this wiggly chair, with a flickering headlamp above the only table in this room, and having the temperature be boiling hot would beg to differ.
My head is reeling. None of this was supposed to end this way. I planned to go to Riveroak Prep to change my life, and little did I know I would, but not in the way I had hoped.
The detective comes and slams a file folder onto the table. The pictures of the body carelessly slide out across the table, and I'm left wincing as I look at the blood. He glares at me as he sits down in his perfectly stable and non-wiggly chair.
"You still have a chance here, Elena. Tell us what happened."
"I asked for a lawyer," I tell him dismissively. "You're not getting another word out of me until they get here."
The detective was shocked when I asked for a lawyer. "What seventeen-year-old asks for a lawyer unless they're guilty?" he asked me, but he knew his hands were tied once I asked. I have seen enough true crime television shows to know what happens next. My mother could never afford a high-powered attorney. At least not ones that these people could afford. I'm most likely going to get a state attorney with a crap ton of cases and not enough time to fully commit to any of them.
"Elena-"
"Let me stop you right there," I tell him. "I would love to be able to tell my lawyer that you not only kept questioning a minor when they didn't have representation but also that when I asked for it you ignored me."
He glares at me and stands up from his chair. He begins to circle around the table and puts his hands to his face. "Two of your classmates are dead."
"That has nothing to do with me," I tell him dismissively.
"It has everything to do with you!" he slams his fist on the table, eyes raging. "You're in the middle of this whether you want to acknowledge it or not little girl." His face is so close to mine I can smell the coffee he's been drinking on his breath. His vein is sticking out in the middle of his forehead, and his pupils are dilated.
"Look," I say to him. "I want to help you. I really do. It's why I sent Dean Meadows out of the room. I'm not going down for something that I didn't do. When the lawyer gets here I'll get some advice and I'll be happy to help you in whatever way they advise. Until then, this conversation is over."
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As if they were waiting in the wings my lawyer comes running into the room. He's a scrawny white man with disheveled chestnut hair. Probably fresh out of law school given how late he was called in for this, and how overwhelmed he looks. He walks straight over to me and sticks his hand out. "Ray Perkins. I'll be your court-appointed attorney."
"Elena Ramos," I say shaking his hand that is moist with sweat. "Thank you for coming. I'm sorry it's so late."
"Are you kidding?" he whispers as he sits next to me and opens his briefcase. "The other new hires and I were tripping over ourselves to get this case. A murder in one of the nation's best schools? Two at that? It doesn't get any better to help you climb the ladder from there."
I try not to show my distaste for the insensitivity he has for this situation. Whether or not they were bad people, two people are dead. Two people had their lives ripped away before they even had a chance to start.
My semester started a month ago, and I've been struggling to figure out this mystery that was laid before me.
"I have something I need to tell you," I whisper to him.
He looks at me confused. "So tell me."
"It's not something I can say in front of him yet," I respond. "It's really important."
"I need a moment with my client," says Ray quickly to the detective with a harsh tone. "It's time for you to go. Now."
The detective lets out a loud sigh and stalks out of the room. He slams the door behind him and Ray turns to me with a deadpan. "What is it that's so important? I don't care if you killed them or not," his eyes averted to the table to look at the lifeless bodied captured in the photos. He grimaces and turns back to me. "I have to defend you either way."
I ignore his statement with an eye roll and lean closer to him. I cup my hand around his ears and whisper a phrase that I've been holding back from the second the cops showed up at the scene. "I know who killed Victoria Caldwell."
He jerks his head away. His jaw dropped and then he glared at the two-way mirror the cops were no doubt watching us through. This case just became much more interesting to him. Victoria Caldwell became a household name back in September of this year. The heiress to an oil empire disappears from one of the most prestigious schools in the nation? It's bound to make the news. After all, money talks, right? Countless news stories and updates have flooded social media and every major network you can think of. Rumors of seeing her roaming small random towns. Rumors that she got mixed up with the wrong people and is strung out somewhere.
All of that was put to rest when her body was discovered.
I reach under the table and grab my small backpack I placed all of the clues I've collected over my time at Riveroak. Clues that were never supposed to be mine, but somehow found their way to me.
"I need you to start from the beginning. I need the whole story."
"Buckle up, Ray," I tell him with a sigh. "It's going to be a wild ride."