Got Your Number

little flighty, but she wasn't a murderer. Heck, on any given day she had reservations about her own sanity.
    Still, it might be a good idea to take Angora back to Baton Rouge as soon as possible, lest rumors about the Paulen girl resurface and disturb her further. They would leave first thing in the morning. As for Carl...
    She sighed. Maybe after she tied up loose ends in Biloxi, she'd return to South Bend for that romantic dinner and...see what developed.
    Remembering she hadn't yet checked her voice recorder at home, she quickly dialed the access number. Two messages.
    "Hello, Roxann, this is Mr. Nealy. Your old boyfriend was hanging around the back door today—Richard, I think you said his name was? Anyway, if he gives you any guff, you just let me know."
    So maybe it was Richard who'd broken in and left the message. Creep. She'd left town for nothing because she could have handled him with a kick to the groin.
    The second message was a hang-up, so she quickly rejoined Nell at the table. "Sorry it took so long—I decided to check in with my dad."
    "That's nice. How are you and your father?"
    "We're fine."
    Nell angled her head. "Something's wrong."
    Roxann was drawn into the warmth of Nell's eyes, compelled to unburden herself just a little. "You were right. There is a history of mental illness in our family. Angora's and my great-aunt was schizophrenic."
    Nell nodded sadly, then lapsed into another coughing seizure, this one more fierce than the last.
    "I think I'd better take you home," Roxann murmured, rising.
    "But you haven't eaten."
    "I'm not hungry, and you need to rest." Nell didn't protest as Roxann helped her to her feet "I don't suppose the chances of getting a cab are any better than they used to be."
    "Afraid not," Nell whispered with a smile. "But I'll be fine—my medication is wearing off, that's all."
    "Still, I wish I had driven so you wouldn't have to walk."
    "Can I offer you ladies a ride?"
    Roxann closed her eyes and thought a very bad word. When she opened them, Capistrano was standing before them, cleverly disguised as a Good Samaritan.

Chapter Seventeen

    "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Roxann asked him through clenched teeth.
    "Having dinner—the scampi was great."
    Nell's hand tightened around Roxann's arm. "Is this the man you told me about?"
    She frowned. "No, this isn't Frank Cape. This is...an acquaintance of mine from Biloxi."
    "Oh." Nell looked back and forth between them.
    "Dr. Oney, meet Detective Capistrano."
    "Nice to meet you, ma'am."
    She nodded, then looked back to Roxann, as if waiting for a cue.
    Roxann surveyed his innocent expression, then sighed. "He's harmless. Where are you parked, Capistrano?"
    During the short drive to Nell's, Roxann sat in the middle of the front seat of his Dooley truck and exchanged glares with him in the rearview mirror. She was half furious at him for following her, half furious at herself for assuming he wouldn't.
    "Thank you," she said to him as he helped Nell down from the passenger side. He dwarfed the small woman, but seemed to handle her gently. At the porch, Roxann said, "I'll take it from here. Goodbye."
    "I need to talk to you." His head was so big, it obscured the moon behind him.
    "This isn't a good time."
    "It's important."
    She hesitated, then gave Nell an apologetic glance.
    "Take as long as you need," Nell said. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you girls at breakfast."
    When the door closed, Roxann turned, arms crossed.
    He gestured to her outfit. "You look plumb girly tonight."
    "Forgive me if I don't swoon."
    "I'm not crazy about black, though. You should wear white."
    "You are harassing me."
    "Funny, the last time I saw you, I saved your scrawny ass."
    "My ass isn't—" She scowled. "I thought you had to get back to Biloxi."
    He shrugged. "After you gave me the slip, I nearly said to hell with it and did."
    Her smug smile came easily.
    "But I had some time off coming to me and thought now was as good a time as any to take it." He leaned on the porch rail, as if he were planning to loiter.
    "How did you know where we were?"
    "Your cousin practically blurted it at the carnival, and when she said something about seeing a Dr. Carl, I figured it was either a medical doctor or a professor. I saw your diploma when I was at your dad's. Notre Dame is in South Bend. I just put two and two together. You'd make a terrible criminal."
    "When did you get here?"
    "I saw your crowning—very nice. Too bad your cousin outbid you for your old