Love Can Be Murder

exhaled in relief. "Then I didn't do it."
    Roxann smiled. "I'd say that's a safe assumption."
    "Well, if you didn't do it, and I didn't do it, then who did?"
    "I don't know, but I intend to find out. But Angora, you have to tell me everything, and I mean everything you know that might be relevant."
    "Everything?"
    "Everything."
    Angora sighed. "Okay. Do you remember when you taught me how to give a blowjob on a tube of Crest?"

Chapter Twenty-seven

    "HELLO, MELISSA ?"
    "Yes," the woman answered, her voice laced with suspicion. "This is Melissa Morgan."
    Her new last name—of course. "Melissa, this is Roxann from the Rescue program."
    "Roxann? I didn't think I'd ever hear from you again."
    "How are you and Renita getting along?"
    "Wonderfully. She loves Kansas City, and her new school. She's like a different child, so happy."
    "I'm so glad for you."
    "Is something wrong, Roxann?"
    "Actually, Melissa, I'm in a bit of a bind, and I was hoping you could help me out."
    "I will if I can."
    She took a deep breath and made her request, explaining the ramifications if Melissa did or didn't decide to help. Twenty minutes later, she had her yes. She thanked Melissa, then hung up and dialed Nell's sister on the pay phone. The sister had obviously heard news of the arrest, because when Roxann identified herself, she was hesitant to let her speak to Nell. But when Nell heard, she took the call right away.
    "Roxann, dear, are you all right?"
    She spent the next few minutes assuring her mentor that everything was fine, despite the news sound bites and grim newspaper reports. "I think the DA was pressured into making an arrest."
    "Do you still think that Frank Cape might have had something to do with the murder?"
    "It's possible. Or..."
    "Or what, dear?"
    "Dr. Oney, when Carl was being investigated by the regents for having an improper relationship with a student, was I that student?"
    "Yes, what did you think?"
    "Well, I've been hearing some pretty unflattering things about Carl—that he traded sexual favors for grades, things like that."
    Dr. Oney gasped. "Carl would never do that. Never."
    She smiled into the phone. "I knew you'd say that."
    "When do you think I can come back to South Bend?"
    "Not yet, not until Cape is tracked down."
    "But in time for the memorial service next week?"
    "I hope so. I'm going over to your house to pick up my van—can I check on anything for you? Feed the cats? Water the flower garden maybe?"
    "I left food and water for the cats, but bless you, yes, my rosemary will need a drink."
    "Will do."
    "Roxann, I've been giving more thought to that Frank Cape predicament, and I think you should let me contact the ex-wife and offer counsel. I just can't bear it if you're hurt."
    "It's already taken care of. I talked to his ex-wife a few minutes ago, and she agreed to help."
    "That's wonderful. Maybe it will help flush out Cape—and if he's the one who killed Carl, I want to see him punished."
    "So do I."
    "Is Melissa happy in her new location?"
    "Yes."
    "And Renita?"
    "Oh, yes. Very."
    Nell sighed in satisfaction. "It's good to know the program is working the way it's supposed to."
    "You have a lot to be proud of." A checkered car caught her eye. "There's a taxi, so I have to run. I'll call you soon."
    "Bye, dear."
    If Roxann had any doubts that her picture had been plastered all over the news, all she needed was the wide-eyed stare in the rearview mirror from the taxi driver to clear things up. The guy was so spooked, he drove off before she could pay him. But considering how low she was running on cash, she didn't mind. She didn't even want to think about the hole the ten-thousand-dollar bail bond had left in her IRA.
    Nell's place seemed melancholy, and she noticed for the first time how run-down the outside had become. Peeling paint, overgrown shrubs, and rocks missing from the stone steps. She might have blamed it on not having a man around the house, but her father's house looked the same. It said something about the feeling of home, she supposed, and that having people around made a house worth maintaining.
    She found the outside hose and watered the flower beds and herbs, hoping she wasn't somehow killing them in the process. Afterward she sat on the cool stone steps to return her supervisor's frantic phone message. Apparently, he'd heard.
    "Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, what's going on in South Bend?"
    "A man I knew was murdered, and I've been arrested."
    "You sound pretty calm for someone charged