The Suspect

chapter 38

Step 1: Don't sulk.

Step 2: Don't cry

Step 3: Don't think about Tatum.

Step 4: Fuck men.

I keep chanting these steps as a mantra in my head, however, step three seems to contradict its point, making me think about him.

Tatum Black.

Fuck him.

Well...I already did, if we're technically speaking but I didn't intend to mean it in that way. I spent most of the day crying after he left. Kiara was shocked, to say the least. Apparently, she was expecting both of us to confess our undying love for each other and she hoped it would end with us fucking each other six ways to Sunday.

News fucking flash: it did not.

She has been in a perplexed state of mind and I'm not sure why she is in one, in the first place. I have a feeling she's hiding something from me; something that made her go from team fuck Tatum to team fuck Tatum.

This is why I don't open up. Because as soon as I do, men do two things.

They leave.

Or they fuck me and then leave.

Tatum managed to do both and he has now been reduced to the status of Jeremy 2.0. I don't miss him. Not at all. If I were, my mind would constantly be consumed by him. Which it's not. Of course.

I've been trying to drown myself in other work. I know Miller did it, I just need the evidence. Things just don't add up. Things like why he would intentionally place Brandon's skateboard the day we—I broke into his house. Or how that shipping container got moved and stopped in a forest where he did his dirty work. It's almost as if he wanted us to know it was him. But why? Why would a murderer deliberately want to make sure the people looking for him knew it was him? And then he pinned it on that guy. Another thing that doesn't add up. Maybe Miller was looking for an open window and he found one; a clean slate. Framed someone else, and got the easy way out. That story makes more sense. But sometimes even the stories that make the most sense aren't always the right ones. There's a weak point. My open window. I've just got to find it.

I've taken a few days off work due to personal reasons. Now, I will admit, I do feel guilty and bad for using the apparent closing of Tyler's case as an excuse to find the real killer. It does leave a bitter taste in my mouth, but the more time I get Miller off my back, the more time I get to find my open window.

I've let Kiara know about my plan of action and the first one is to make a short visit to the alleged killer's house. Prior to interrogating him at the Ball, I found out this guy's name was Malakai Egor. He lived in a small one-bedroom apartment, which was closed off under jurisdiction from the FBI due to his involvement in the case. What was also really surprising was that he had family in Texas. A wife and a two-year-old son. There's no way I could get a warrant without alerting Miller so my next best option was to ask the team to get me one in secret. However, this requires me to come clean about everything. How I manipulated them, worked with the suspect...and yeah you get the point.

Breaking into the house was a possibility but at this stage, it's too much of a risk. So here I am, in my apartment at approximately midnight, having three confused faces staring back at me; betrayal plastered across all. Well, not really. Jackson is the only one that seems obviously betrayed. Watson looks...hurt, as if she wanted to be included in something but it went on without her anyway. And Woods here, just seems...impressed? I'm not too sure but the smirk on his face tells me it's just that.

"So let me get this straight," Woods finally speaks up, "You worked with the lead suspect of the case, helped him clear his name, found out Miller was actually the one behind all of this, proceeded to fuck the suspect who then fucked you over and just left?"