Got Your Number

quite terrifying.
    "Here." Warner handed her a paper cup of strong coffee that scalded her tongue, and, unfortunately, she still didn't wake up as she'd hoped, to find Angora asleep in the twin bed next to her in Nell's guest room. Carl was dead. No, worse—Carl was murdered .
    A rap on the window caught her attention, and when she saw Capistrano's mug peering in, her heart lifted crazily. She hated to admit it, but there was something reassuring about having the big lug around.
    "Is that your boyfriend?" Jaffey asked.
    "Acquaintance," she corrected.
    He gestured for Capistrano to come in and the men introduced themselves. Capistrano flashed his badge, for professional courtesy, she assumed. He was a good head taller than anyone in the room. And he looked remarkably put together to have rolled out of bed fifteen minutes ago. She didn't want to think about how she looked.
    "You look like hell," he said.
    "Nice to see you, too."
    "Has she been charged?" he asked the room in general.
    "Not yet," Jaffey said.
    Capistrano walked around to lean on the wall facing her. "What happened?" he asked Jaffey.
    But Warner took the lead. "Paper boy noticed Seger's door was open this morning around five o'clock, and went to investigate. Found him dead in the library, strangled by a scarf that belongs to your girlfriend here."
    Roxann pursed her mouth. "Except I don't know how it got there. Was I wearing it last night when we"—she frowned—"said goodbye?" The cops gave each other knowing looks that infuriated her.
    "I don't remember," Capistrano said. "I wasn't looking at the scarf."
    How did he do that? Make it seem as if there was something between them? In fact, why the devil had she even called him?
    He looked back to Warner. "The scarf is purely circumstantial evidence anyway. What else do you have?"
    "Mud on her jeans," he said, pointing. "And a pair of running shoes, caked with dried mud."
    Capistrano looked back to her with a raised eyebrow.
    "I...couldn't sleep last night, so I went jogging."
    "Where?" Jaffey asked.
    She closed her eyes. "To Dr. Seger's house and back."
    Capistrano averted his gaze.
    "That's all I need to hear," Jaffey said, reaching for his cuffs.
    "No, wait," she said, holding up her hand. "I jogged to his house because..."
    "Because?" one of the other cops prompted.
    She inhaled. "Because someone told me that Carl was a philanderer, and I was worried about my cousin being with him."
    "She outbid you for a date with the professor," Jaffey said.
    "It was for charity." A dumb argument, even to her own ears.
    "What time did you jog over to Seger's house?"
    "Around two-thirty a.m."
    "And what happened when you got there?"
    "Nothing. I realized how stupid it was of me to be concerned, so I simply turned around and ran back to the house where I was staying."
    "Right," Jaffey said, his sarcasm thick.
    She leaned forward. "I could have lied just now. Why would I tell you I jogged over there unless I was innocent?"
    "Did anyone see you?"
    She turned to Capistrano. "I don't guess you could have been following me then ?"
    He shook his head. "I gave up." His gaze was pointed.
    She looked back to Jaffey. "I didn't see anyone else, although someone could have noticed me, maybe someone driving."
    The cop gestured to her black sweatshirt. "You weren't exactly dressed to be noticed, now were you?"
    She didn't answer—her humiliation was complete.
    "Do you have a history with Carl Seger?" Warner asked.
    She sat back. "He was my professor when I went to school here from ninety-two through ninety-six, and I had a work-study under Dr. Seger my senior year."
    "Let me rephrase. Do you have a personal history with Carl Seger?"
    Roxann inhaled and exhaled, wondering how much to tell. But really, how much was there to tell? "We were fond of each other, but we didn't have a sexual relationship." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Capistrano straighten, edge closer.
    "Did you see him after you graduated?" Warner continued.
    "No. Just before I graduated, Carl was accused of having an improper relationship with a student. I left campus and...I didn't see him again until this week."
    "Did the two of you stay in touch?"
    "He called twice—once a few months after I left to say he was sorry how things had ended, and a few weeks ago he left a message on my phone in Biloxi asking if I would consider accepting a Distinguished Alumni award. But I didn't return his call."
    "Because you were still angry over how things had ended?"
    She