“I’ve a solicitor meeting me here in an hour’s time. After that, we’ll see how quickly we can get in to see a magistrate.” He looked left and right again. “Once the solicitor gets here, we’ll be able to talk in private.”
I moved the phone away from my ear.
“Wait,” I heard him say before I hung it up. “I’ll make this right. I promise.”
I placed the receiver in the cradle and turned around to motion the guard. I looked over my shoulder one more time. When my eyes met Edge’s, he mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
“Busy day,” said the same guard who’d escorted me out of my cell earlier. “Now it is your lawyer.”
I followed her down a different corridor, this time to a room. It was empty when we entered, but a few minutes later, Edge walked in with a man I didn’t recognize.
“Remove the cuffs,” the man barked at the guard.
“Sir, I—”
He stalked over and shoved a piece of paper at her. “Remove them. Now.”
I rubbed my wrists after she did and then watched her walk out.
“I’m Sterling Anderson.” He held out his hand. “Your new attorney.”
Attorney? The guy looked more like a bodybuilder with a tattoo addiction. I could see them peeking out of his shirt collar and also at the end of his sleeves. His head was shaved, but his beard was full. As I studied him, he never took his eyes off of me. Was he analyzing me while I did the same to him?
I ripped my gaze from him and turned to Edge. “What’s going on? What about my other lawyer?”
“I hired him to represent you.”
“I don’t understand why the judge didn’t make the PD recuse himself. He’s got a goddamn tie to the vic,” the Anderson guy said, shaking his head as he studied the file he held.
“I still don’t understand.”
“I’m working on your release. I’d prefer to schedule a hearing to have the charges against you dropped, but at the very least, I’ll be getting you out on bail, pending dismissal.”
Edge walked over and took my hands in his. “I’m going to confess.”
I started to shake. He had killed him. Fuck. And all this time, I sat in jail, paying for a crime I didn’t commit.
“Come and sit.” He led me over to the table and pulled a chair around so he was sitting in front of me, our knees almost touching. I should’ve resisted, but I was too stunned.
“That night—”
“Hang on a minute,” said the lawyer.
Edge glared at him and then looked back at me. “I didn’t mean to kill him, but—”
The bald guy interrupted him again. “You didn’t.”
Edge shook his head. “We’ve been over this, Hammer. I told you what happened that night.”
“You did. However, this,” he held up a thick report, “says Possum died of a gunshot wound.”
Edge’s eyes opened wide. “What? Are you certain?”
“One of the bar’s employees found him the next morning, lying next to his truck. Thought he was passed out drunk until they flipped him over. Unless things happened differently than what you told me earlier, you didn’t kill him.” Then he looked at me. “When Edge left that night, you were still at the bar?”
I nodded.
“For how long?”