Chapter Twenty-Six
“What?” Bernice Walker shrieked, looking back at Tommy as she untangled the microphone wire from her hair.
“Oh, this is nice,” Walsh walked through her office like he was on a tour of the Baseball Hall of Fame. He stopped at a glass display case and admired the silver trophies. “My daughter wants to dance,” he said, a touch of admiration in his voice as he turned. “It's over lady. We got you on tax evasion, obstruction, extortion and on murder one: the heinous death of Billy Brag, photographer.”
Tommy felt a balloon well in her chest and Walsh chuckled when he saw her face. “Didn't know about that one, huh?”
“You can't prove a thing,” Bernice Walker spit out, challenging him. But Walsh just smiled, raised a hand. “We got testimony, we got physical evidence and... hol
