“The guy who jilted her at the altar?”
“How do you know about that?”
“Your dad said according to you, the woman his neighbor saw was your cousin. I called your aunt to check your story. She filled in the details.”
She just bet she did.
“No offense, but your aunt’s a real bitch.”
Okay, so he nailed that one. “Who did you think I had with me?”
“Melissa Cape.”
“That would be pretty stupid.”
He simply shrugged, which irked her beyond words.
“When did you meet up with Cape?” she asked.
“I 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 rolling on the floor), and finally, Little Miss Little Rock Fall Festival. When the crowd began to break up, Roxann walked to the bottom of the stairs that Angora was descending.
“Wasn’t that fun?” she squealed, touching her crown.
“Uh, yeah. Listen, something’s come up—we need to get going.”
Angora’s gaze landed somewhere behind Roxann’s shoulder and her face went absolutely feline. “Hel-lo.”
“Hello,” Capistrano said, then elbowed Roxann none too discreetly.
She frowned. “Angora meet, um, Mr. Capistrano. And this is my cousin, Angora Ryder.”
Angora purred. “Do you have a first name, Mr. Capistrano?”
He extended his hand, along with a dopey smile. “Joe.”
Joe. Roxann pursed her mouth. A nice enough name.
“And it’s Detective Capistrano.”
“Oooh, detective.” Then Angora stopped. “Detective? Are we in trouble?”
Roxann just hated to burst the bubble. “Detective Joe says you’re using a stolen credit card.”
Angora jerked her hand back. “Trenton gave me that credit card.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said sympathetically. “It’s just sour grapes on his part. If you give me the card, I’ll try to have this misunderstanding cleared up. Where are you headed?”
“Sou—”
“Angora,” she cut in with a warning glare. “Give the detective the card.”
Angora found the card and handed it over with a long face. “Your name sounds familiar.”
He looked amused. “Your cousin must have been talking about me. We’re working on a case together.”
Roxann rolled her eyes. “Let’s go, Angora.”
“What happened? Why are you in such a hurry?”
“A dangerous man is following the two of you,” Capistrano said, “because your cousin won’t cooperate with the police.”
Angora’s eyes went round. “Is that true, Roxann?”
She narrowed her eyes at Capistrano. “One person’s cooperation is another person’s sell-out.”
He scowled. “Look, I have to go back to Biloxi tonight. I can’t protect you if Cape decides to follow you again. Go back with me and we’ll talk about Melissa. I’ll let you be involved in contacting her if it makes you feel better.”
Roxann hesitated.
“M
y partner has a wife and two little girls,” he added. “Cape deserves to pay for what he did to that family, and for what he did to his own family.”
She sighed and nodded slowly. “Okay… you’ve convinced me.”
He straightened. “Well. I’m glad to hear you’ve come to your senses.”
Gesturing for Angora to follow her, she turned in the direction of the exit and began weaving through the crowd.
Angora leaned in close. “So we’re not going to Sou—”
“No,” Roxann said with a jerk on her arm. “I’m sorry, but we’ll have to finish our vacation some other time.”
“But what about Dr. Carl?”
“Later, Angora.”
Capistrano stayed close at their heels as they tramped through the flattened grass. Fireworks started going off overhead, blue and purple and gold. Another time, she would have slowed to enjoy them. Instead, she just wanted to get on the road as soon as possible. But as they approached the concrete-block building that housed the restrooms, she turned to Capistrano. “Do you mind if we stop here before we hit the road?”
He suddenly looked weary. “Fine. I’ll wait here.” He turned his back and leaned against a gate, reaching into his shirt to withdraw a crushed pack of cigarettes.
Roxann grabbed Angora’s elbow, waited to make sure he was occupied, then steered her around the side of the building and across the back through wet weeds.
“What are you doing?” Angora whispered.
“Be quiet and walk fast. No way I’m going back to Biloxi with that man.”
Angora squealed. “Oh, this is so exciting!”
Roxann jogged all the way to the van, then vaulted into the driver’s seat and slammed the door. Angora was a few seconds behind her, huffing and puffing.
“It’ll take him at least another five minutes to figure out that we’re gone,” Roxann said, then flipped on the lights and cranked the engine. Like a faithful servant, Goldie turned over.
“Will he come after us?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” she said, finding a gear and sending the van lurching forward. “If he has to be in Biloxi tomorrow, he can’t spend much time chasing us.” She pulled out onto the paved road and nudged the speedometer needle up to the limit. “Angora, I think I should take you back to Baton Rouge.”
“No way, this is just starting to get good.” She leaned closer. “Who’s Frank Cape? And Melissa?”
Roxann hesitated. “I don’t want to involve you.”
Angora’s bottom lip came out. “You don’t think I can handle it.”
“I don’t want to put you in danger.”
“You think I’m dumb.”
“I don’t want to put you in danger.”
She teared up. “Just because I’m not as smart as you, Roxann, doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid, Angora.” Roxann sighed. “Melissa Cape is a woman I helped to relocate away from her ex-husband, Frank.”
The tears evaporated. “And Capistrano wants to send her back?”
“He wants her to testify against her ex, who shot Capistrano’s partner and put him in a coma. Meanwhile, Frank Cape is on my ass because he’s trying to find her, too.”
“To prevent her from testifying.”
“Right”
“Wowee. You’re the only one who knows where she is?”
“Yes.”
“Omigod, this is so much better than my job.”
Roxann glanced in the side mirror, perplexed to see no headlights behind her.
Capistrano had given up the chase? “The story gets a little more complicated.”
“Okay, but talk slow.”
Roxann counted to three. “I left Biloxi because someone broke into my duplex and typed a threat on my computer screen.”
“So you weren’t planning to come to my wedding all along?”
All roads led back to Angora. “I only received the invitation that day.”
“Oh. Was it the freaky Cape guy who broke into your place?”
“I thought so, but just now when he confronted me at the carnival—”
“He was here? Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head. “He was only trying to scare me. Capistrano got there before anything happened.”
“So Joe saved your life?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“He’s really dreamy.”
“Can I finish?”
“Well, he is.”
“Anyway, when I accused Cape of breaking into my place, he denied it.”
“So he lied.”
“No, he truly seemed surprised.”
“But who else could have done it?”
“Well, there are other ex-husbands, I suppose, who might have found out where I live, but that would take some doing. Cape is a PI, so he has resources.”
“What did the message say?”
Roxann exhaled. “It said, ‘I’ve got your number, you fake.’”
“What does that mean?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“It sounds personal.”
“I had a problem with a roommate, so she might have come back.”
“She?”
“Elise James—she was a grad student at Notre Dame when we were freshmen, but I didn’t know her then. Did you?”
Angora squinted. “I… don’t believe so.”
“The Rescue program paired us up when I moved to Biloxi.”
“What kind of problem did you have with her?”
Roxann sighed. “It’s personal.”
“Ooh, tell me.”
“Elise… made a pass at me.”
The whites of Angora’s eyes shone clear in the semi-darkness of the cab. “She’s a lesbian?”
“Actually, I think she might be experimenting.”
“And you weren’t interested in experimenting?”
“No, Angora, I wasn’t.”
“Don’t get so testy. Can you find out if this woman broke into your place?”
“I don’t know how to contact her. Elise left the program and they don’t know where she is.”
“Are there any other suspects?”
She quirked a brow—Angora was getting into this. “An old boyfriend from Birmingham crossed my mind. He and I parted on bad terms several months ago.”
“Was he violent?”
“No, but he had an attitude. And a drinking problem, so anything’s possible.”
“You have bad taste in men.”
Roxann checked the side mirror—no Capistrano. “We have bad taste in men.”
“Except for Dr. Carl.”
Roxann had to admit that he seemed to be pulling her toward South Bend, but part of that, she acknowledged, was wanting to escape her current problems. “Capistrano had Frank Cape’s car impounded, and he won’t be able to pick it up until morning. So to get a jump on him, we’ll have to drive all night.”
“Okay.”
“And no more credit cards—the charges are too easy to trace. Whatever cash you need, get it from an ATM while we’re here.”
Angora sighed. “Without Trenton’s card, I don’t have any money.”
“What about your own bank account?”
“Overdrawn—there were too many wedding expenses.”
Roxann slowed the van. “Angora, I have a little money, but we’re going to have to be very frugal for the rest of the trip.” An alien notion to her cousin.
But Angora held her left hand out in front of her. Her enormous engagement ring caught the light. “No we won’t.”
Chapter 13
“Welcome home, my dear.”
Roxann walked into Dr. Nell Oney’s sweatered embrace, inhaling the woman’s signature vanilla scent, grateful beyond words that she hadn’t changed over the years. But when she felt the woman’s frail bones through the heavy clothing, she realized how much her mentor had aged—more gray in her soft brown hair, more lines around her gentle mouth. Still, she remained an attractive woman
, aging gracefully.
“You look wonderful,” Dr. Oney said, squeezing her hands.
“So do you,” she said, applying light pressure to the woman’s cold hands. Dr. Oney was a bit past fifty, Roxann calculated. And no family, save the cats she took in. She had once told Roxann that the people at Rescue were her family. With a start, Roxann acknowledged that she was looking at herself in twenty years. And while living in a patio home just off campus wearing hand-knit sweaters covered with cat hair held a certain literary appeal, it seemed fantastically lonely.
“Meet Angora Ryder, my cousin. We graduated in the same class. Angora, I’m sure you remember Dr. Nell Oney.”
“It’s nice to see you,” the professor said, shaking Angora’s hand. Then she squinted and looked back and forth. “You two do bear a striking resemblance—except for the coloring, of course.”
“And the crown,” Roxann added dryly.
“Dr. Oney, I hope you don’t mind me tagging along,” Angora said. “Roxann rescued me from a little scrape.”
“I don’t mind,” she said. “And call me ‘Nell.’ Let me show you girls where you can put your things. The guest room has twin beds.”
They traipsed after her, dodging four—no, five—cats. Angora sneezed a thousand times before they set their things down on outdated red comforters in the tiny guest room. The walls were lined with shelves of worn paperbacks—proof positive, Roxann conceded, of those long, lonely years stretching ahead of her. In fact, didn’t she immediately upon relocating to a new city acquire a library card?
“I have two classes to teach this afternoon, so I’d better be off,” Nell said from the doorway. “Do you need anything before I go?”
Roxann wanted to ask about Carl, but bit her tongue and shook her head. “We can’t thank you enough.”
“No need, really. But just so that I know, this Cape fellow who’s been following you, what does he look like?”
“Tall, thin, rednecky. He was wearing camouflage when he caught up with me in Little Rock.”
“Do you have a weapon?”
“Pepper spray. But hopefully he’s given up by now.”
Nell nodded. “Still, you can’t be too careful. Do you two have plans tonight?”
She exchanged looks with Angora, and her cheeks grew warm. “Well, uh—”
“We’re going to the bachelor auction,” Angora cut in. “Want to come?”
Got Your Number Page 12
