Love Can Be Murder

spotted him at a gas station this morning. I figured he was following you, so I followed him."
    "So he spoke to my father, too?"
    "Your dad said he hadn't been there."
    "But Cape might have threatened him."
    He shrugged as if to say it was likely.
    She had to sit down again. The thought of Frank Cape bullying her father sent that corn dog spinning in her stomach. Rummaging for her phone gave her a few seconds to blink away quick tears. "I need to call him." She punched the power button, but nothing happened. "Dammit!" And to her mortification, the tears welled again. She gave her eyes a quick swipe.
    "Here."
    She glanced up and took the tiny phone he extended. "Thanks." After punching in the number, she breathed shallowly while the phone rang. His recorder picked up and the tone sounded. "Dad, it's me. Roxann." She tried to sound cheerful. "I was just checking in to make sure that you're...that everything is okay. I'm fine, and I'll call back soon." She disconnected the call with a heavy heart and handed the phone back.
    "He seemed like the kind of man who could take care of himself," Capistrano offered.
    "Did he look...healthy?"
    His thick eyebrows went up.
    "I don't get home very often."
    "He looked spry enough to me. We talked about fishing lures over a cup of coffee. He's worried about you."
    "He doesn't approve of my lifestyle."
    "He thinks you should do something with that diploma of yours he has hanging on the wall."
    She grimaced. "I hope he didn't bore you."
    "Nope." Capistrano sat down opposite her. "You look different."
    Better? Worse? Heat flooded her face, and she tugged on a hank of hair extension. "It's my cousin's doing. I'm her project."
    "Where is your cousin?"
    Roxann gestured vaguely, then bolted upright. "Cape."
    He swung one leg over the bench. "Let's go."
    Fear hurried her feet. After stopping three vendors to ask for directions, they finally located the blue-and-white-striped tent where the Little Miss Something or Other pageant was being held. The contest appeared to be near an end, with all the coiffed little girls lined up on a makeshift stage—well, one rebel was lying on her back and spinning around. The seats were filled with overweight women wearing hopeful expressions, and lots of spectators stood around the perimeter. She scanned the judges' table, but Angora wasn't there. One chair was glaringly empty.
    "She's not here. Do you see Cape?"
    "No. She wouldn't just leave with him, would she?" he whispered.
    "I don't think so, unless he tricked her." Not a gargantuan feat.
    "You didn't warn her?"
    Roxann bristled. "I thought it would be better if she didn't know...anything." Like normal.
    He frowned. "What does she look like?"
    "Blond, pretty, curvy."
    "Hmm."
    At his tone, she cut her gaze to him. He'd probably fall head over heels for Angora and all her femaleness.
    At the sudden applause, Roxann looked to the stage, where to her surprise, Angora emerged, all smiles and holding a clipboard.
    "Is that your cousin?" he asked, staring.
    "Yes, that's Angora," she murmured.
    "She's pretty, all right."
    Roxann bit into her lower lip.
    He turned his head slightly. "She looks like you."
    Her pulse quickened and she studied his profile, oddly comforted by the sheer immobility of his features. But on the heels of the warm fuzzies came the awareness that immobility was not always a favorable characteristic, and she'd had her fill of domineering men. Besides, she knew little about this particular man. He could have a wife and eight kids. He certainly struck her as the kind of man who would want to replicate himself.
    "You don't have to stick around," she said cheerfully, and stuck out her hand. "But thanks for your help with Cape."
    He looked at her hand until she dropped it. "Where are you two headed?"
    "That's none of your business."
    He crossed his arms. "Fair enough. Just tell me where I can find Melissa Cape and you'll never have to see me again."
    "I'm supposed to be so grateful for what you did that I spill my guts?"
    He shrugged. "Whatever label you want to put on it."
    "Gee, and I thought you were just being nice."
    "Nobody ever accused me of being a nice guy."
    "Goodbye, Detective."
    He turned back to the stage. "I think I'll stick around to meet your cousin."
    Roxann poked her tongue into her cheek.
    Angora, in her element, proceeded to hold the audience captive while she announced Little Miss Photogenic, Little Miss Congeniality, Little Miss Talent, Little Miss Best Hair (the one