Forged (Gail McCarthy Mystery) Read Free

the laconic approach was a mistake.
    "Look," I said, "how about I tell you all I know about Dominic Castillo, and then you leave so I can make dinner."
    Detective Johnson met my eyes. "I may need to question you further."
    "Some other day," I said. "Tomorrow even. Not tonight. Deal?"
    Detective Johnson sat up straighter in his chair. "As long as you agree to further questioning, I'll be happy to limit tonight's session," he said formally.
    "Okay. Here goes. I think Dominic's been married twice, though I couldn't swear to that. His first wife, that I know of, is Lee Castillo, and she has two kids by him. Lee has horses. She's a client of ours."
    "How old is Dominic Castillo?" Detective Johnson interjected.
    "Somewhere between forty and fifty, I'd guess. He's ..." I paused and for the first time in this conversation, smiled. "He's well preserved, you could say."
    Detective Johnson didn't smile back. "Which means?"
    I shrugged. "He's a handsome man, if you like that type. Tall, slim, olive-skinned, dark eyes, unwrinkled, very manly and charming. Hard to tell his age, if you take my meaning."
    Detective Johnson made a note and said nothing.
    "Anyway, his second wife is Carla Castillo," I went on. "I know her because she has horses, too. No kids there, I don't think. For the last couple of years Dominic has lived with a lady named Barbara King, who also has horses and is a client of mine. And, as your informant told you, he's a big flirt; I certainly wouldn't know about his other conquests, but by all accounts, he had them.
    "Now," I stood up, "I'm happy to give you more information tomorrow or whenever, but I'm tired and hungry and I need to make dinner now."
    Slowly Detective Johnson stood up as well. "The crime scene team will need to finish up down at the barn," he said.
    "Fine. So long as they don't let the horses out of their pens."
    "I'll be by tomorrow."
    "Fine," I said again. All I wanted was to get the man out of here. "I'll expect you."
    Detective Johnson gave me yet another hard-edged cop stare and turned at last to go. No good-bye, no thank you forthcoming. I watched his departing back with relief.
    The minute he was out the door, I turned to my cupboard and got out tequila, orange liqueur, and some lemons. In another thirty seconds, more or less, I had a much-needed cocktail in my hand and was letting my yapping Queensland heeler dog out of her pen.
    "I'm sorry, Roey," I told her. "No running around tonight. Too much going on. Come on in the house."
    I could see lights, vehicles, moving human figures down at the barn. Resolutely I turned my face away and ignored them. Nothing I could do about it now.
    I dialed my lover's cell phone.
    "Hello." Blue's voice.
    "Hi. Where are you?"
    "At work still. We're shorthanded."
    "Oh." I knew how it was. Blue was the nursery manager for a large rose growing operation. Like horses, the needs of plants varied dramatically and were not always amenable to human plans; Blue was often late getting home, as was I.
    "You'll never guess what happened. I found the horseshoer in the barn, shot."
    A long silence. Then Blue's voice, sounding hopeful. "April fool?"
    "What? Oh. No. It is April Fools' Day, isn't it? But no, no joke."
    "My God. Is he all right? What happened?"
    "I don't know if he's all right. He was alive when the ambulance took him away, but he didn't look too good. And I've got cops all over the place. It's kind of a weird story; I think I'm a suspect."
    "What?" Blue sounded truly alarmed now.
    "Don't worry; they haven't arrested me yet. But come home as soon as you can, okay?"
    "Right. Will do." And we hung up.
    I leaned back in my corner of the couch and sighed. Took a sip of my drink and patted the dog, who had settled herself next to me. Did my best not to look out the windows in the direction of the barnyard. What a lousy ending to what had been a relatively easy Friday.
    Until now. Now it was a particularly difficult Friday. I took another long swallow of margarita,