Got Your Number

misunderstanding that will unravel in a few days."
    "Is it?" Angora asked. "Is it one big misunderstanding?"
    Roxann inhaled and looked into Angora's eyes. "Angora, I'm going to ask you a question, and you have to be honest with me. I swear, whatever the answer is, I'll help you get through it, okay?"
    Angora nodded.
    "Did you do any of those things to Carl that the DA said happened—did you hit him, or strangle him with my scarf?"
    Her lower lip began to tremble. "I didn't hit him, but..."
    Roxann's stomach pitched. "But?"
    "But I keep having these terrible visions of him lying on the floor with that green scarf around his neck. And I don't know if they're real, or if it's something that's gotten in my head. I do that sometimes—think about something so hard that I can't remember if I made it up, or if it really happened."
    "Did you find my scarf somewhere?"
    "No. I'm sure about that part."
    Roxann smiled. "Well, then, don't you see? If you didn't find my scarf, then you couldn't have done it."
    Angora hiccupped. "Unless Carl found your scarf. We were at the same restaurant that night."
    Roxann stared. "Utopia?"
    "Yes. I didn't see you, but the police told me you and Nell were there."
    "We were."
    "Is that where you lost your scarf?"
    "It's possible," she murmured, trying to think back. "I remember going to the ladies' room, and...and I made some calls at the pay phone."
    Angora's eyes widened. "Carl made a call, too."
    Roxann grinned. "Angora, you're a genius."
    "I am?"
    "Yes—I'll bet that's what happened. I assumed that the killer found my scarf and used it, but maybe Carl found it and was keeping it to give back to me later. Maybe it was just there, and the killer used it."
    "Wow, I am a genius."
    She laughed. "And now that one mystery is solved, we can start looking for other clues."
    "But what about my...visions?"
    Roxann angled her head. "Angora, in these visions, what does Carl look like?"
    "He's lying on the floor, looking straight up at me, with his eyes wide open, staring through his glasses."
    "That's definitely not how Carl looked in the crime-scene photos—and he wasn't even wearing his glasses."
    Angora exhaled in relief. "Then I didn't do it."
    Roxann smiled. "I'd say that's a safe assumption."
    "Well, if you didn't do it, and I didn't do it, then who did?"
    "I don't know, but I intend to find out. But Angora, you have to tell me everything, and I mean everything you know that might be relevant."
    "Everything?"
    "Everything."
    Angora sighed. "Okay. Do you remember when you taught me how to give a blowjob on a tube of Crest?"

Chapter Twenty-seven

    "HELLO, MELISSA?"
    "Yes," the woman answered, her voice laced with suspicion. "This is Melissa Morgan."
    Her new last name—of course. "Melissa, this is Roxann from the Rescue program."
    "Roxann? I didn't think I'd ever hear from you again."
    "How are you and Renita getting along?"
    "Wonderfully. She loves Kansas City, and her new school. She's like a different child, so happy."
    "I'm so glad for you."
    "Is something wrong, Roxann?"
    "Actually, Melissa, I'm in a bit of a bind, and I was hoping you could help me out."
    "I will if I can."
    She took a deep breath and made her request, explaining the ramifications if Melissa did or didn't decide to help. Twenty minutes later, she had her yes. She thanked Melissa, then hung up and dialed Nell's sister on the pay phone. The sister had obviously heard news of the arrest, because when Roxann identified herself, she was hesitant to let her speak to Nell. But when Nell heard, she took the call right away.
    "Roxann, dear, are you all right?"
    She spent the next few minutes assuring her mentor that everything was fine, despite the news sound bites and grim newspaper reports. "I think the DA was pressured into making an arrest."
    "Do you still think that Frank Cape might have had something to do with the murder?"
    "It's possible. Or..."
    "Or what, dear?"
    "Dr. Oney, when Carl was being investigated by the regents for having an improper relationship with a student, was I that student?"
    "Yes, what did you think?"
    "Well, I've been hearing some pretty unflattering things about Carl—that he traded sexual favors for grades, things like that."
    Dr. Oney gasped. "Carl would never do that. Never."
    She smiled into the phone. "I knew you'd say that."
    "When do you think I can come back to South Bend?"
    "Not yet, not until Cape is tracked down."
    "But in time for the memorial service next week?"
    "I hope so. I'm going