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questions for you," he said.
    "Would you come with me, please?"
    "Am I under arrest?" I blurted.
    He turned, cocked his head and stared at me as if I were insane.
    "Did I say you were under arrest?"
    "Well, no--"
    "If I implied that, I'm sorry," he said. "We're just going back to your producer's office for a few more questions. No big deal. Is that all right with you?"
    "Um, of course," I said, not appreciating his condescending manner. "I'm sorry."
    "Did you get your daughter taken care of?" he asked as we walked.
    "Yes, I did. Thank you."
    He stopped at Thomas's door and waved for me to enter ahead of him. "Hopefully," he said, "you'll be home in time for dinner."

Chapter 8
    "We've heard from several people that you and the victim didn't get along very well," Jakes said once the three of us had assumed the same positions we'd maintained before.
    "That's putting it mildly," I said. "She hated me."
    There was no point in holding back now. They'd heard it from others.
    "Mind telling us why?"
    So I did, every last detail, up to and including Marcy's sudden appearance on the show as the new head writer.
    "What happened when she arrived on the scene?"
    Jakes asked.
    "She was still holding a major grudge," I said. "She started trying to change my part--even tried to write me out of the show."
    "She can't do that."
    We both looked over at Detective Davis, who had spoken again.
    "What, Len?" Jakes asked.
    "They can't write Tiffany out," Davis explained, as if it were very logical. "I mean, she's almost the whole show. She's been there forever." "Thanks, Len," Jakes said, "for that insight into The Yearning Wave ."
    " Tide ," Davis corrected him. "It's The Yearning Tide , Frank."
    "So you had a big fight with her a few days ago,"
    Jakes said, ignoring his partner. "Tell me more about that."
    "It wasn't a fight," I said. "I mean, you know, there was nothing physical."
    "Just tell us about it," he said, "every detail, every word." He gave me a very pointed look and added,
    "Everything you left out the first time."
    "Well, all right. I had thought if I talked it out with her, cleared the air, that we could have some sort of working relationship. As it existed now, we never talked. She sent notes to me with the scripts, and she did her best to make me look bad on the show--boring dialogue, dowdy clothes, the works. I was hoping to change that when I went to see her."
    "How did that go?" Jakes asked.
    "Wow," I said, "it couldn't have gone more badly."
    "You attacked her?" Davis asked.
    I looked over at him, surprised that he had spoken. I'd almost forgotten he was there.
    "No, of course not," I said. "She started shouting at me. I lost my temper. She called me a slut and I told her to grow up, and we went from there. Everybody could hear us."
    "Yes," Jake said, "that's what they said. What I'd like to know, Alexis--can I call you Alexis?"
    "Sure," I said, "why not. We're old friends now, aren't we?"
    "That's not exactly true," he said. "I'm a cop and you're a homicide suspect. I need to know why you didn't tell me yourself that you and the victim hated each other. Why didn't you mention that you'd had a fight just days before she was killed?"
    "I didn't think it was important."
    "Why not?"
    "Because I didn't kill her."
    He seemed taken aback by the simplicity and--I hoped--the honesty of my answer.
    "You're either very smart," he said, "or very innocent."
    "If I pick innocent," I asked, "does that mean I'm dumb?"
    I smiled at him, trying to be charming, but he just glared at me.
    "Can I go now?" I asked.
    "Sure," Jakes said, still staring at me, expressionless,
    "you can go. I'm sure we'll need to talk again, though."
    "I'll be available."
    "Well," he said, "thank you very much."
    I tried not to show how much he annoyed me, then turned and left.
    I went back to my dressing room and grabbed my stuff. As I headed out the glass doors to the parking lot, I was instantly assaulted by dozens of camera flashes and reporters yelling out my name.