But the young man doesn’t budge. “Mr. Walsh . . . He’s . . . uh . . . He’s the assistant district attorney. He’s really insistent, sir. And since you haven’t entered any charges . . .” What? I stand and lean my bound hands against the cold metal table. “I’m not under arrest?” Detective Archer glares at the officer, but the way his face pales makes me think having an ADA for a father is handier than I knew. “Not yet, no. I just need you to answer a few more questions.” “Why? So you can trick me into admitting to something I didn’t do? Don’t think so.” I thrust my hands toward the detective.
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