CHAPTER 41
MRS. PERFECTOn the way to Ingle’s house, I called and left another message for Santos. He returned the call a few minutes later, just as we pulled into the long drive leading to Ingle’s house. I filled him in on the connection with Ingle and told him about Jaguars.
“I’ll check it out and get back to you,” he said.
I hung up the phone and, as we got out of the car, Tip said. “Santos seemed more than a little familiar with Jaguars.”
“I’m guessing a lot of the detectives in Dallas might be familiar with it.”
“Speaking of jaguars and cougars and all that, Tip said, “do you have any rubber bands?”
I looked at him as I often did—as if he were crazy. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Mrs. Ingle—she’s an RB woman.”
All I could do was shake my head. “You’re going to have t
