Got Your Number

women from place to place?"
    "Sometimes."
    "Is there some significance to that blond wig?"
    She swallowed. "It had a knife through it."
    "I mean the wig itself—or the color. Is Melissa Cape blond?"
    "Brunette."
    "Do you think it was a threat against Angora?"
    "Maybe."
    "You know something you're not telling me."
    "Give it a rest, Detective. I've had a bad day."
    He sighed and shifted on the towel he'd spread over the seat of his truck. Another towel was draped over his bare shoulders. "How did it go today at the courthouse?"
    "Fine and dandy."
    "I'm serious."
    She fingered her green and white Notre Dame tassel, with the little '96 gold-tone charm attached. "After the arraignment, the DA offered me and Angora a deal if we'd serve up the other one."
    "And your cousin didn't jump on it?"
    "No." She frowned. "I thought you liked Angora."
    "Like?"
    "Well, the way you look at her—" She stopped before he got the impression that she was jealous or something stupid like that.
    He grinned. "You're jealous."
    "You're delusional. And I thought we were talking about the meeting."
    "Did you tell the DA about Angora—the possible mental problems, the comments she made?"
    "No. She underwent a psych consult at the hospital."
    "And?"
    "And, according to her attorney, she's a pathological liar and fantastically spoiled, but she wouldn't harm anyone. I had a private heart-to-heart with her—she didn't do it."
    "I hope you're right." He checked the rearview mirror, ever alert.
    "But she did tell me a couple of things that could be important."
    "Like?"
    She dropped the tassel back into the box. "Like she went down on Dr. Seger in his office once when she was a student."
    He emitted a low whistle. "I thought you said she was a virgin."
    "Do I have to give you a definition of 'virgin'?"
    "No, but that's not exactly virginal behavior."
    Roxann shrugged. "She must've been crazy about him is all I can say."
    "So chances are, Dr. Seger was participating in extracurricular activities with his students?"
    She squirmed. "Chances are."
    "But he never hit on you?"
    "No."
    "He must've liked you."
    She cut her gaze to him. "Are you saying that guys don't make passes at women they like?"
    "No. I mean that a guy like Seger who was exploiting young girls probably had a line in his head separating the girls he respected."
    She simply stared.
    "I'm shutting up."
    "Thank you."
    He kept his word for about thirty seconds. "Did she tell you anything else you didn't know?"
    She nodded. "The night Tammy Paulen was run down, she was driving nearby. She heard a scream, then saw a black Volvo driving away."
    "Seger?"
    She looked out the window. "He has—had—a black Volvo." Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat of the sudden emotion that welled. Okay, maybe she could believe that Carl engaged in dalliances with his pretty students, but the thought that he would actually leave the scene of a crime was incomprehensible. He taught ethics, for heaven's sake.
    He made a rueful noise in his throat. "It's not your fault that Seger wasn't the man you thought he was."
    "It makes me feel foolish that I could be so blind, though."
    "Maybe the way he acted around you was the way he wanted to be."
    "You're being generous all of a sudden."
    He shrugged. "Nobody is all good or all bad. Even some of the worst criminals love their mother, or tell bedtime stories to their kids, or buy cream for their cats."
    Okay, he'd managed to surprise her—and make her feel a tad better.
    "So we know he wasn't a saint. And that it's entirely possible one of his students could've dropped by and done him in."
    She told him their theory on how the scarf had made its way to the crime scene.
    "Not bad," he said. "Maybe we can find someone at the restaurant who saw him pick it up. One thing is sure—if the DA is relying on one of you to turn on the other, he doesn't have enough evidence to convict."
    "That's what I told him."
    "You or your lawyer?"
    "My lawyer is a narcoleptic idiot with a good ad agency. I handled everything."
    He pursed his mouth. "You know an awful lot about the law for someone determined not to have anything to do with it."
    She smirked.
    "Listen, I'm sorry I wasn't at the arraignment, but I thought my time would be better spent looking for Cape."
    "I guess you didn't find him?"
    His mouth twisted. "No. He probably changed vehicles, maybe his appearance." He looked over. "No offense, but you should've stayed in jail. You'd be safer."
    "I filed a restraining order