Got Your Number

me as if he's handling the livestock." She shook her head. "No, this person will never do. I'll call Bennett and he'll fly up to take care of everything. You may go," she said to him, punctuated with a shooing motion.
    "Mrs. Ryder, this is your daughter's decision." He hooked his thumbs in his suspenders and boldly stared at Dee.
    Dee stared back for a few seconds, then faltered. "Angora?" she chirped.
    Angora gawked. Any man who could face down her mother was someone she needed on her side. "I choose Mr. Brown," she murmured in renewed appreciation.
    "And you should be going, Mrs. Ryder," he said. "Angora needs her rest. She's had complications, you know."
    Angora coughed to bolster his argument. And in truth, she was growing tired.
    Then the door burst open and those two plainclothes police officers strode in. The hateful one, Jaffey, leveled his gaze on her. "Angora Ryder, you're under arrest for the murders of Tammy Paulen and Dr. Carl Seger. You have the right to remain silent—"
    Her mother swayed, then hit the floor face first. The cop didn't miss a beat, shouting her rights while the three men wrestled Dee into a chair. She roused and began to screech hysterically, something about the Junior League and being blackballed.
    "Do you understand your rights?" Jaffey yelled over the fracas.
    Angora nodded, then sighed. Only Dee could turn the spotlight on herself while her daughter was being handcuffed to a hospital bed.

Chapter Twenty-six

    AFTER A NIGHT IN THE COUNTY JAIL, the next-to-last thing Roxann needed was a gauntlet of reporters in the hall of the district attorney's office. But the very last thing she needed was a confrontation with her Aunt Dee in front of said reporters. Her aunt was coming out of the restroom, and when she saw Roxann, her face screwed up.
    "This is all your fault!" Jackson held his wife back by the shoulders as security guards circled. "If you hadn't interfered, Angora wouldn't be in this mess."
    Roxann bit her tongue to keep from pointing out that she was in the same mess, and her daughter wasn't exactly blameless.
    "You talked her into it, I know! Angora is a good girl—she would never do anything to disgrace me and her father on her own."
    Roxann stopped. Cameras flashed. "Angora was arrested for murder, and you're worried about the family name? God, you're such a bitch." They'd probably bleep that part out on the local news.
    Dee's face went scarlet. "Peasant. Just like your father."
    "I take that as a compliment." She stepped up her pace and caught up with her white-faced attorney. Phyllis Troy had the most impressive ad in the Yellow Pages but was more nervous than Roxann at the prospect of a conference with the DA. Not a good sign.
    The meeting-room door stood open. Roxann held back until her aunt and uncle passed through, then closed the door behind Phyllis, who was now visibly shaking.
    "Come on in and have a seat." District Attorney Robert Mason waved them in. He was a big blond-haired man in his fifties who had the voice and demeanor of a Baptist preacher. He lorded over a dark wood conference table surrounded by padded chairs. One of the chairs was occupied by a young woman whom he introduced as an assistant DA. Angora's attorney, the round-faced Mr. Brown, occupied another. He had dressed up, sporting a new denim shirt, and his curly hair was slicked back with something shiny. Angora herself looked frail and victimized sitting in a wheelchair and wearing a paper gown. A blanket covered her legs. She refused to make eye contact, which suited Roxann just fine. Dee and Jackson moved their chairs to sit on either side of Angora and hold her hands. Sadly, it was probably the most of their undivided attention she'd ever received.
    "How was jail?" Mason asked Roxann without preliminary.
    "Unpleasant," she answered. In a single night the institutional funk of the place had permeated her skin, hair, and clothing. Thanks to a doctor's note, Angora had been spared the same treatment and confined to a guarded hospital room until her arraignment, which had taken place this morning moments before Roxann's. They both had pleaded "not guilty." Roxann tried not to let the fact that Capistrano hadn't shown up in court, or since, bother her. The episode in the hotel room was a manifestation of mixed emotions, none of them grounded. She had thought of a way to get rid of him, but first things first.
    Mason opened a file on top of the stack in front of him. "This wasn't your first time in