Allred and everything there is to tell about your relationship with him.”
“Relationship! Listen, Detective, I don’t have a relationship with the man. I worked for him some, that’s all. I hardly know him. What’s this all about?”
“Are you still working for Allred? “
Wallis looked confused, as if she weren’t sure what to say. Finally, she said, “From time to time.”
“Uh-huh. When was the last time?”
“Last month, I guess.”
“You told me you were trying to call him yesterday—why was that?”
“That’s private.”
“Nothing’s private, Ms. Wallis. This is a murder investigation.”
Fury contorted Wallis’s features. “You … white … bitch.” She bit off each word. “How dare you play games with me? Are you telling me Gene Allred’s dead?”
If Skip had been hoping to provoke a reaction, it wasn’t this one. She’d never been spoken to quite so rudely by a witness, especially one who might be a suspect. Still, she supposed the woman had registered surprise.
“I hate these damn power games. You treat me like a person or I’m out of here. All day long you’ve pushed me around. You treat me with a little respect.” Her hair extensions were shaking, she was so mad.
“Ms. Wallis, you just insulted a police officer. You want me to make your life difficult, I’ve certainly got reason. Now, understand the seriousness of this situation. Your employer has been murdered. Calm down and answer my questions.”
Skip could not allow herself to be insulted, but in the back of her mind, she thought Wallis had a point—she had probably pushed too far and ended up bullying.
Wallis sulked. She wasn’t about to apologize and Skip wasn’t about to ask her to. Best to forget the whole thing.
Skip said in a quieter voice: “Were you close to Mr. Allred?”
“No, I wasn’t close to Mr. Allred. I worked for him.”
Good. Wallis was backing off, too. “Well, then, why did you call him and then go see him when you couldn’t get him? It must have been pretty important.”
“It was about a client.”
“What client?”
Wallis put a hand over her mouth, not as if trying to keep something in, more as if she were thinking. She said, “Oh, God,” and held the position for a while. Finally, she said, “I had a bad feeling. I think I better talk about it.”
“It’s probably best.”
“I think I have to call a lawyer.”
That was the last thing Skip wanted. “There’s no need if you haven’t done anything wrong.”
Wallis stared at her a minute, possibly relieved, more likely calculating odds. Finally, she said, “Uh-uh. I’d like to help, but I just can’t right now. I’ve got to have legal advice.”
Skip suddenly became Ms. Nicecop. “Well, look, do you have a good lawyer? Maybe I could—”
“I’ll be in touch.” Wallis got up and turned to leave the room.
“It was about Russell Fortier, wasn’t it?”
Wallis whirled. “You found the files.”
It was all Skip could do not to shout, “What files?” Instead she said, “Ms. Wallis, I need to read you your rights.”
“You’re arresting me?”
“I really can’t let you leave right now. Maybe you could have your lawyer meet us here.”
“I don’t have a lawyer. I’ll have to get one.”
Time was pouring away. Skip said, “Allred looked to me like a seedy private eye—seedy PIs do things to get information that aren’t completely legal. However, I’m not about to arrest you if you know something that’s going to help me solve a murder case—not unless the injured party presses charges. And being a tattletale is not my job. Do you follow?”
Wallis looked interested. Skip poured it on a little more. “Russell Fortier may be in danger.”
Wallis sat down again. “Look. Are you offering me immunity from prosecution? Something like that?”
“Not exactly. I’m just saying if you didn’t kill Gene Allred and you do cooperate in the investigation, I’m not going to go after you for
“Relationship! Listen, Detective, I don’t have a relationship with the man. I worked for him some, that’s all. I hardly know him. What’s this all about?”
“Are you still working for Allred? “
Wallis looked confused, as if she weren’t sure what to say. Finally, she said, “From time to time.”
“Uh-huh. When was the last time?”
“Last month, I guess.”
“You told me you were trying to call him yesterday—why was that?”
“That’s private.”
“Nothing’s private, Ms. Wallis. This is a murder investigation.”
Fury contorted Wallis’s features. “You … white … bitch.” She bit off each word. “How dare you play games with me? Are you telling me Gene Allred’s dead?”
If Skip had been hoping to provoke a reaction, it wasn’t this one. She’d never been spoken to quite so rudely by a witness, especially one who might be a suspect. Still, she supposed the woman had registered surprise.
“I hate these damn power games. You treat me like a person or I’m out of here. All day long you’ve pushed me around. You treat me with a little respect.” Her hair extensions were shaking, she was so mad.
“Ms. Wallis, you just insulted a police officer. You want me to make your life difficult, I’ve certainly got reason. Now, understand the seriousness of this situation. Your employer has been murdered. Calm down and answer my questions.”
Skip could not allow herself to be insulted, but in the back of her mind, she thought Wallis had a point—she had probably pushed too far and ended up bullying.
Wallis sulked. She wasn’t about to apologize and Skip wasn’t about to ask her to. Best to forget the whole thing.
Skip said in a quieter voice: “Were you close to Mr. Allred?”
“No, I wasn’t close to Mr. Allred. I worked for him.”
Good. Wallis was backing off, too. “Well, then, why did you call him and then go see him when you couldn’t get him? It must have been pretty important.”
“It was about a client.”
“What client?”
Wallis put a hand over her mouth, not as if trying to keep something in, more as if she were thinking. She said, “Oh, God,” and held the position for a while. Finally, she said, “I had a bad feeling. I think I better talk about it.”
“It’s probably best.”
“I think I have to call a lawyer.”
That was the last thing Skip wanted. “There’s no need if you haven’t done anything wrong.”
Wallis stared at her a minute, possibly relieved, more likely calculating odds. Finally, she said, “Uh-uh. I’d like to help, but I just can’t right now. I’ve got to have legal advice.”
Skip suddenly became Ms. Nicecop. “Well, look, do you have a good lawyer? Maybe I could—”
“I’ll be in touch.” Wallis got up and turned to leave the room.
“It was about Russell Fortier, wasn’t it?”
Wallis whirled. “You found the files.”
It was all Skip could do not to shout, “What files?” Instead she said, “Ms. Wallis, I need to read you your rights.”
“You’re arresting me?”
“I really can’t let you leave right now. Maybe you could have your lawyer meet us here.”
“I don’t have a lawyer. I’ll have to get one.”
Time was pouring away. Skip said, “Allred looked to me like a seedy private eye—seedy PIs do things to get information that aren’t completely legal. However, I’m not about to arrest you if you know something that’s going to help me solve a murder case—not unless the injured party presses charges. And being a tattletale is not my job. Do you follow?”
Wallis looked interested. Skip poured it on a little more. “Russell Fortier may be in danger.”
Wallis sat down again. “Look. Are you offering me immunity from prosecution? Something like that?”
“Not exactly. I’m just saying if you didn’t kill Gene Allred and you do cooperate in the investigation, I’m not going to go after you for
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