Love Can Be Murder

is, a mushrooming cloud of doom was dogging her and the people she came into contact with—she didn't even want to think about what can of worms would spring open tomorrow. Plagued with warring thoughts and emotions, Roxann left the restroom before Nell began to think she'd been abandoned. But just outside the restroom was a pay phone, and she was struck with the longing to hear a comforting voice. O r at least a familiar one. Her cell phone was at Nell’s on a charger. Before she could change her mind, she dialed her father's number. He answered on the third ring.
    "Hello."
    His rough-hewn voice scraped over the line, rugged and reassuring. She smiled into the phone. "Dad, it's me."
    "Roxann, honey—are you okay?"
    "I'm fine, Dad. Has anyone else been around asking about me?"
    "No. Where are you?"
    "I'm in South Bend, with Angora, We came up for Homecoming, but we'll be back to Baton Rouge soon."
    He sighed. "Dee has been driving me nuts. Since that cop talked to her, she's sure Angora is in some kind of trouble."
    "Well, she isn't." She chewed on the inside of her cheek. Yet. "Listen, Dad, is there a history of psychological problems in your family?"
    "What kind of fool question is that?"
    "It's important, Dad."
    "Well...my mother's sister died in an asylum."
    Roxann inhaled sharply. "What was wrong with her?"
    "Schizophrenia. When she was twenty-five she pushed another woman out of a tenth-story window."
    Her eyes bugged. "Why haven't you ever told me?"
    "You never asked. Are you seeing that Detective Capistrano?"
    Her eyes bugged wider. "What?"
    "Are you seeing—"
    "No, I'm not seeing him! What makes you think I'm seeing him?"
    "He seemed to know an awful lot about you."
    "Dad, he's a detective."
    "He told me you were working together on a case."
    "Well, we're not."
    "He told me you could be in real trouble with the police."
    "Well, I'm not."
    "He told me about his partner. I think you should help him."
    She closed her eyes. "Dad, I have to go. Keep the doors and windows locked, and don’t talk to Detective Capistrano. I'll call you before I leave South Bend."
    Roxann returned the phone to its cradle, trying to assimilate the bits of the conversation—discounting the absurd line of questioning about the infuriating detective. Schizophrenia was hereditary—was it possible that...no, Angora was a little flighty, but she wasn't a murderer. Heck, on any given day she had reservations about her own sanity.
    Still, it might be a good idea to take Angora back to Baton Rouge as soon as possible, lest rumors about the Paulen girl resurface and disturb her further. They would leave first thing in the morning. As for Carl...
    She sighed. Maybe after she tied up loose ends in Biloxi, she'd return to South Bend for that romantic dinner and...see what developed.
    Remembering she hadn't yet checked her voice recorder at home, she quickly dialed the access number. Two messages.
    "Hello, Roxann, this is Mr. Nealy. Your old boyfriend was hanging around the back door today—Richard, I think you said his name was? Anyway, if he gives you any guff, you just let me know."
    So maybe it was Richard who'd broken in and left the message. Creep. She'd left town for nothing because she could have handled him with a kick to the groin.
    The second message was a hang-up, so she quickly rejoined Nell at the table. "Sorry it took so long—I decided to check in with my dad."
    "That's nice. How are you and your father?"
    "We're fine."
    Nell angled her head. "Something's wrong."
    Roxann was drawn into the warmth of Nell's eyes, compelled to unburden herself just a little. "You were right. There is a history of mental illness in our family. Angora's and my great-aunt was schizophrenic."
    Nell nodded sadly, then lapsed into another coughing seizure, this one more fierce than the last.
    "I think I'd better take you home," Roxann murmured, rising.
    "But you haven't eaten."
    "I'm not hungry, and you need to rest." Nell didn't protest as Roxann helped her to her feet "I don't suppose the chances of getting a cab are any better than they used to be."
    "Afraid not," Nell whispered with a smile. "But I'll be fine—my medication is wearing off, that's all."
    "Still, I wish I had driven so you wouldn't have to walk."
    "Can I offer you ladies a ride?"
    Roxann closed her eyes and thought a very bad word. When she opened them, Capistrano was standing before them, cleverly disguised as a Good Samaritan.

Chapter Seventeen

    "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE ?"