Got Your Number

platter. "Why?" she pressed. "Why would you drop the charges if you have evidence of a crime?"
    The lady DA fidgeted, then said, "Some of the files from the Paulen case seem to be missing. So...we'll be dropping those charges, regardless."
    Mason tapped his watch. "One minute, ladies."
    Angora looked at her from across the room, and Roxann saw thirty years of hurt, jealousy, and disappointment in her eyes. Angora's lips parted and she started to say something, then stopped. She shifted in her wheelchair, and tears glistened in her eyes. Dee was pumping her hand.
    Angora could do it all in one fell swoop, Roxann realized—pin the blame on the cousin she saw as competition, and exonerate herself in the eyes of the parents she so wanted to please. Roxann swallowed. And if Angora was guilty, then she had even more incentive to fabricate a story. And when it suited her, Angora could lie like a Persian rug.
    She maintained eye contact as the seconds ticked away and the tension mounted. The faint odor of the throw-up had found its way out from under the trash can. A fly buzzed lazily on the light fixture above the table. The assistant DA clicked the end of her pen in slow, steady succession.
    Dee whispered furiously in Angora's ear. When her cousin looked away, Roxann began to nurse a bad, bad feeling. Angora suddenly shoved at her mother and cleared her throat.
    "Mr. Mason...if you had an eyewitness to the crime, what would the charge be?"
    Oh, God.
    Mason bounced the tips of his fingers together. "Since Dr. Seger was already unconscious when he was strangled, it clearly was not accidental, nor a crime of passion, nor of self-defense. We'd be charging first-degree murder."
    "And the sentence?" Angora asked.
    "Life in prison."
    Roxann knew Angora well enough to know when she was terrified—the question was, was she terrified that Roxann had seen something through the window? If so, was she contemplating turning on Roxann first?
    "Angora—" she began, but Mason stopped her.
    "No conferring, Ms. Beadleman, unless it's with your attorney. My watch says fifteen seconds."
    She wet her lips and willed Angora to look at her, but she wouldn't. Don't do it , she pleaded silently.
    "I—" Angora said, and all eyes went to her.
    "Yes?" Mason prompted.
    She looked at Roxann, desperation on her face. "I...don't have anything to add to my story."
    Roxann exhaled slowly.
    Mason's mouth went flat and he closed the folder, smacking it back on top of the pile. "All right, then, we're finished here. By the way, we're going to try you ladies at the same time." He stood and gathered his things, then strode from the room with his assistant on his heels.
    Roxann's attorney had fallen asleep during the commotion. The woman obviously shut down in the face of stress. Roxann scribbled "You're fired" on a sheet of paper, stuck it on Troy's briefcase, then wheeled her out in the hall in the rolling chair.
    When she came back in the room, she looked at Angora. "Can I talk to you—alone?"
    "Stay away from her," Dee said to Roxann. "Angora should have turned you in when she had the chance."
    But Roxann was still looking at Angora, who nodded. "Wait for me in the hall," she said to her parents, and to her attorney. When the door closed, Roxann eased into a chair in front of her cousin. "How are you feeling?"
    "Not great," she said. "I feel like I've been turned inside out, and those crabby nurses aren't giving me as many painkillers as before."
    Roxann smiled. "They must not realize they have a celebrity on their hands—Miss Northwestern Baton Rouge."
    Angora smiled back, then her eyes filled with tears. "The police won't give me back my crown."
    "Isn't that a coincidence—you lost a crown and I have a spare one lying around somewhere."
    She lit up. "You mean it?"
    Roxann sighed. "Angora, you know better than anyone that I didn't deserve that Distinguished Alumni award. So cheer me up a little by taking that thing off my hands."
    She looked back, bit into her lip, and smiled. "Okay." Then she teared up again. "Roxann, I'm sorry I said those terrible things about your mother."
    She squeezed Angora's hand. "It's okay. I'm grateful to you for telling me—now I realize what my dad was going through." She smiled. "And now I understand why you were so lenient on him."
    Angora nodded. "Your dad's great."
    "Yeah. It was nice of your parents to come up."
    "I suppose. Is your dad coming?"
    "No, I asked him not to. I hope I convinced him that this is one big