Read Online Got Your Number by Stephanie Bond - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stephanie Bond
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carrots? Is that why your skin is the color of a pumpkin?"
"I think it looks nice."
"Christ, Angora, you're orange ."
She snatched the towel. "Could I please just have those clothes you promised?"
Roxann frowned, then went into the bedroom and unzipped the duffel bag. She fished around, wishing she'd taken more care when she'd packed her bag. The nicest thing she had to offer Angora was a pair of faded jeans and a tie-dyed T-shirt.
"You're kidding, right?" Angora asked, looking over her shoulder.
"Sorry, I sort of packed in a hurry."
She held up the T-shirt. "Good grief, when was the last time you went shopping?"
"For clothes?" Roxann pulled at the hem of her orange pullover self-consciously.
Angora sighed. "That's a horrible color for you."
She smirked. "Maybe I'll start eating carrots."
Angora picked up the bottle of pepper spray. "Is this what all the well-dressed women in Biloxi are wearing?"
Roxann grabbed the pepper spray before Angora could spray herself, "Just a precaution."
Her cousin sighed. "I'll never be able to get my butt into those jeans—don't you have anything stretchy?"
"Just these." Roxann held up a pair of red thong underwear.
"Now I know you're kidding."
Remembering Angora's penchant for girdle granny panties, Roxann grinned. "They're not so bad once you get used to them." She left Angora studying the underwear, then ran her own bath. She stripped, indulged in a few seconds of envy over Angora's curves next to her own boyish figure, then slid into the water up to her shoulders. A groan escaped her as the warm water caressed her calves, still tender from yesterday's run. Unbidden, Capistrano's face popped into her mind, his expression mocking as he perused her ugly shoes. Maybe she should have called him yesterday to report the break-in. Maybe he would have—
She scoffed. Maybe he would have helped her? Help her what? She couldn't be sure that Frank Cape was looking for her. Besides, Detective Capistrano struck her as the kind of guy who would expect something in return—like the whereabouts of Melissa Cape.
No, the more she thought about it, the more she suspected that Elise had been behind the trashing of her place and leaving the bizarre message. Elise was a computer buff, and had spent hours on Roxann's desktop, mostly surfing chat rooms. Which is where, Roxann believed, Elise had gotten the idea that her repeated failed relationships with men meant that she was gay. But if that was the case, Roxann thought wryly, most of the female population would be gay. Elise had always been wound tight, so Roxann suspected that the woman's newfound gayness was justification for the things she perceived to be wrong in her life. And the break-in was probably retribution for Roxann's not jumping on her bandwagon—from Elise's stories, she knew the woman had done some pretty wacky things to men who had wronged her. The fact that Rescue would hire her was testament to their desperate need for staff.
Roxann inhaled deeply, then exhaled, relaxing her back and shoulder muscles. For now, she'd simply lie low for a few days, and maybe look for a new place when she got back to Biloxi. Although she really liked the color she'd painted her bedroom...
She must have dozed, because Angora's voice startled her so badly she klonked her head against the unforgiving porcelain. "Ow!" She looked up to see Angora, wearing only the T-shirt and the tiny panties, holding a bottle of something. "What did you say?"
"Sorry. I said, look what I found. Tequila."
Roxann winced, rubbing her head. "Don't tell me you want to drink that stuff."
"But I do."
"Have you become a hard drinker since we last partied together?"
"I like margaritas."
She laughed and pushed herself up, then reached for a skimpy towel. "It's not the same."
"Come on, I deserve a drink."
"I won't argue that point, but there's truth to the adage about drinking tequila 'to kill ya.' You'll have to mix it with something just to get it down."
"I saw
"I think it looks nice."
"Christ, Angora, you're orange ."
She snatched the towel. "Could I please just have those clothes you promised?"
Roxann frowned, then went into the bedroom and unzipped the duffel bag. She fished around, wishing she'd taken more care when she'd packed her bag. The nicest thing she had to offer Angora was a pair of faded jeans and a tie-dyed T-shirt.
"You're kidding, right?" Angora asked, looking over her shoulder.
"Sorry, I sort of packed in a hurry."
She held up the T-shirt. "Good grief, when was the last time you went shopping?"
"For clothes?" Roxann pulled at the hem of her orange pullover self-consciously.
Angora sighed. "That's a horrible color for you."
She smirked. "Maybe I'll start eating carrots."
Angora picked up the bottle of pepper spray. "Is this what all the well-dressed women in Biloxi are wearing?"
Roxann grabbed the pepper spray before Angora could spray herself, "Just a precaution."
Her cousin sighed. "I'll never be able to get my butt into those jeans—don't you have anything stretchy?"
"Just these." Roxann held up a pair of red thong underwear.
"Now I know you're kidding."
Remembering Angora's penchant for girdle granny panties, Roxann grinned. "They're not so bad once you get used to them." She left Angora studying the underwear, then ran her own bath. She stripped, indulged in a few seconds of envy over Angora's curves next to her own boyish figure, then slid into the water up to her shoulders. A groan escaped her as the warm water caressed her calves, still tender from yesterday's run. Unbidden, Capistrano's face popped into her mind, his expression mocking as he perused her ugly shoes. Maybe she should have called him yesterday to report the break-in. Maybe he would have—
She scoffed. Maybe he would have helped her? Help her what? She couldn't be sure that Frank Cape was looking for her. Besides, Detective Capistrano struck her as the kind of guy who would expect something in return—like the whereabouts of Melissa Cape.
No, the more she thought about it, the more she suspected that Elise had been behind the trashing of her place and leaving the bizarre message. Elise was a computer buff, and had spent hours on Roxann's desktop, mostly surfing chat rooms. Which is where, Roxann believed, Elise had gotten the idea that her repeated failed relationships with men meant that she was gay. But if that was the case, Roxann thought wryly, most of the female population would be gay. Elise had always been wound tight, so Roxann suspected that the woman's newfound gayness was justification for the things she perceived to be wrong in her life. And the break-in was probably retribution for Roxann's not jumping on her bandwagon—from Elise's stories, she knew the woman had done some pretty wacky things to men who had wronged her. The fact that Rescue would hire her was testament to their desperate need for staff.
Roxann inhaled deeply, then exhaled, relaxing her back and shoulder muscles. For now, she'd simply lie low for a few days, and maybe look for a new place when she got back to Biloxi. Although she really liked the color she'd painted her bedroom...
She must have dozed, because Angora's voice startled her so badly she klonked her head against the unforgiving porcelain. "Ow!" She looked up to see Angora, wearing only the T-shirt and the tiny panties, holding a bottle of something. "What did you say?"
"Sorry. I said, look what I found. Tequila."
Roxann winced, rubbing her head. "Don't tell me you want to drink that stuff."
"But I do."
"Have you become a hard drinker since we last partied together?"
"I like margaritas."
She laughed and pushed herself up, then reached for a skimpy towel. "It's not the same."
"Come on, I deserve a drink."
"I won't argue that point, but there's truth to the adage about drinking tequila 'to kill ya.' You'll have to mix it with something just to get it down."
"I saw
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