Love Can Be Murder

"Please."

Chapter Ten

    ROXANN STUDIED ANGORA’S tearful face. She could imagine the insensitive things Dee had said—the woman was a shrew. With the possibility of Frank Cape on her tail, though, the last thing she needed was to have Angora slowing her down, and she didn't want to involve her cousin in her dilemma.
    "Oh, God, here comes Mother. Please, Roxann?"
    She sighed. On the other hand, Angora was the only relative she had who actually wanted to spend time with her, and even her cousin's too-chatty company would be a respite from the loneliness that had seized her lately. Plus if Frank Cape found her, he might be less likely to confront her with a witness along. In the side mirror, she could see Dee bearing down the sidewalk, muumuu flying.
    "Okay, get in."
    Angora squealed, sprang into the seat, and slammed the door. "Go."
    Roxann gunned the engine, which backfired and left a cloud of blue smoke that obscured her aunt. She'd definitely sealed her fate as far as Dee's will was concerned.
    Angora laughed like a child. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I couldn't stay in that house one more second." She sighed. "I've dug my grave with Mother this time."
    If Angora had made it to the Miss America pageant, her talent could have been passive-aggressivism, which she had down to an art. Play Miss Goody Two-shoes until she was ready to burst, then misbehave, wallow in remorse, tearfully confess, beg forgiveness, and start all over again. Roxann slowed. "Do you want me to take you back?"
    "No."
    Impressed, Roxann accelerated. "Give Dee time, she'll come around."
    Angora snorted. "Mother will never change. When I die, she'll stand over my casket and bemoan my laugh lines."
    Yesterday she herself had turned up a radio commercial for a new antiwrinkle cream, so she couldn't cast stones. "She means well." Actually, Dee was just plain mean, but there was no use fanning the flame.
    Angora shifted in her seat, filling in the silence by arranging bulky flannel around the seat belt. "It's funny—I don't remember much about your mother," she murmured. "Except that she smelled like lemon furniture polish."
    Roxann blinked—they'd never discussed her own mother, not even when they roomed together. "She...Mom was always cleaning. Back then, Dad liked an orderly house." Because someone else was doing the cleaning. And the cooking. And the fetching.
    "Do you miss her?"
    Her eyes burned unexpectedly. "Of course."
    "I don't think I'd miss Dee at all—how sad is that?"
    "Sad," she agreed. "But I don't think you mean it."
    Angora made a noncommittal noise in her throat. "Roxann, why did your folks divorce?"
    She concentrated hard on the road. "Incompatibility. Dad was an ogre. Controlling. Jealous. Mother tired of it, I suppose."
    "Your dad seems like such a sweetheart."
    "I have some good memories of us all together," she conceded. "But Dad was no sweetheart. And when Mom...when they split up, he turned bitter."
    "Was there another person involved?"
    Every fiber in her body rallied to her mother's defense. "Mother had a male friend, but she was not having an affair."
    "Although your dad thought so?"
    She pursed her mouth and nodded slowly. "So he kept me from her—not because he wanted to raise me, but to punish her."
    "Your dad is crazy for you. At Christmas, every other sentence out of his mouth is 'Roxann is so intelligent.' "
    She smirked. "Just to aggravate Dee." Besides, only she knew that he'd been talking in code—how many times had her father said he'd rather have a child who was "smart" than "intelligent"? She was certain he'd framed her diploma as a mocking reminder of how she'd wasted her education.
    "Where are we going?" Angora asked, as if she suddenly cared.
    "To South Bend."
    Her eyes lit up. "For Homecoming?"
    "Well...I guess the timing is right. I'm actually going to stay with Nell Oney for a few days — do you remember Dr. Oney?"
    Angora frowned. "Yeah. Didn't she teach philosophy?"
    Roxann nodded. "And she got me involved in the Rescue program." Roxann didn't need a shrink to tell her Nell had been the mother figure she'd craved—wise, calm, attentive. She'd wanted to stay in touch with the woman who had taken a special interest in her, but the university and the people connected to it represented too many bittersweet memories.
    "Do you two have business to take care of?" Angora asked.
    "Sort of."
    "Do you think she'll mind if I'm along?"
    "No, but you can't discuss any of the things I've told you about the