Got Your Number

that you don't want anyone to care about you."
    "That's not true."
    "Okay, then you don't want me to care about you."
    She crossed her arms and shook her head. "Don't do this, Detective. Last night was...what it was—two people who needed each other. For last night."
    "Whatever you say." He stuffed clothes into a duffel bag, then zipped it. "Do you need a ride to the hospital?"
    She shook her head. "Thanks, but I have more calls to make."
    "The room is paid for until the end of the week."
    "That's not necessary," she protested.
    "It's already done," he said, exasperated. "Christ, Roxann, why won't you let anyone help you? Are you afraid you might have to get close to someone?"
    She set her jaw. "Don't talk to me like that—you don't know me."
    He slung the duffel to his shoulder and gathered the stack of files. "As you've informed me several times." A small laugh escaped him. "I hope you get past whatever is keeping you from living." He walked to the door and yanked it open. "If you do...you've got my number."

Chapter Thirty-one

    THE CLICK OF THE DOOR closing might as well have been a slam. Roxann sat rigid on the bed, fighting ridiculous tears. She was not about to be goaded into a relationship with no foundation other than sex, because she suspected she could get used to his company. And right now she needed to concentrate on getting her life back together—finding a new job and place to live, reconciling with her father. It was just like a man to expect a woman to make room for him in her life just because he was—how did he put it— interested ? What a crock.
    She sniffed mightily and leaned over to pull the broken Magic 8 Ball out of the junk box on the floor. She smirked, conceding that she was chasing a thrill by asking, "Is Detective Joe Capistrano madly in love with me?" She turned over the toy.
    Don't count on it.
    And there she had it—her love life in a nutshell. She had run out of Yes, definitelys.
    She called the hospital and asked for Angora's room, thinking she'd give her the basics of Mason's deal until she could get there and explain everything fully.
    "Hello?" Angora asked.
    "Hi, it's Roxann."
    "There you are—no one knew how to get in touch with you. Have you heard the good news? We're not murderers."
    Roxann laughed. "That's a relief. So you heard about Cape?"
    "The police held a press conference a couple of hours ago. We've been celebrating with red Jell-O."
    "We?"
    "Mother and Dad and Mike and me. Oh, and Nell is coming by."
    Roxann frowned. "Nell?"
    "She's looking for you, and I told her to come on over because I was sure you'd call or drop by."
    "When did she get back in town?"
    "Overnight bus. She said the chancellor of the university called her at two o'clock this morning to give her the good news about Cape. Are you coming?"
    "Yes. Mason still wants us to take a polygraph—tomorrow afternoon."
    "Then can we go home?"
    "As soon as you're up to it."
    "I'm still plenty sore, but I'm ready to get out of here."
    "Me, too. I'll see you in a few minutes. Oh...is Dee there?"
    "Nope. She and Father went out for brunch. They promised to sneak me in a mimosa."
    "Do you need anything else?"
    "A box of Ho Hos would be nice."
    She grinned. "I'll see what I can do." She gave Angora the number at the hotel and her room number, then hung up, feeling better than in weeks, maybe months. It was scary to think how close they'd come to being tried for a crime they didn't commit. She picked up the Magic 8 Ball and turned it over several times.
    Yes, definitely.
    Yes, definitely.
    Yes, definitely.
    "Oh, now you say yes," she muttered.
    The phone rang, startling her so badly she dropped the ball and watched it roll under the credenza as she picked up the receiver. It was probably Angora getting in her order for a supersized bag of Cheetos. "Hello?"
    "Is this Roxann Beadleman?" a woman asked.
    "Yes. Who's this?"
    "My name is Tanya Chasen—you called the alumni office yesterday asking for help locating Elise James."
    "Yes, I know she participated in a couple of fund-raising events—I thought the office might have a record of where she's staying while she's in town."
    "Are you a friend of Elise's?"
    "Yes. We were roommates until about two months ago."
    "Oh. Well, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Elise is...dead."
    Her throat closed. "Wh-what happened?"
    "Drug overdose. Her body was found in the bathroom of a local club a couple of nights ago, with no ID. The morgue was holding her as a Jane Doe