Forged (Gail McCarthy Mystery) (8 page)

Like Detective Johnson, for instance. Damn. My most fervent wish was to have nothing further to do with the guy. But it was a wish that was unlikely to be granted.

The thought of Detective Johnson led me to the thought of Lee Castillo and the rather peculiar fact that she had requested my services rather than Jim's. Lee had been using Jim by preference for almost twenty years. I'd seen her horses only when she had an emergency and I was the vet on call. Thus I knew her, but not well.

I had to wonder if today's call wasn't the result of Dominic's demise in my barnyard. After all, teeth that needed floating could usually wait. Perhaps Lee Castillo's curiosity couldn't.

Working my way through a minor gas colic in a broodmare in Watsonville-the horse had been brought in from a pasture and put on straight alfalfa hay, free-choice-I reassured the owner that all should be well and headed out to Lee Castillo's place in nearby Freedom.

An older ranch that had been chopped up into ten-acre parcels formed the framework of the small and not very upscale housing tract. A dirt road led the way in; Lee's property was the last one and included the original ranch house and barn, as well as various outbuildings.

Lee herself stood in front of the barn, directing what I thought were her two teenage children in the process of mucking out stalls. I parked my truck and got out.

"Gail. Good to see you." Lee pulled a pair of leather gloves off her hands and marched in my direction.

"Hello, Lee. How are you?" We shook hands, both of us, I thought, evaluating.

Lee Castillo was a striking woman. About my age-late thirties-she had prematurely gray hair that was a true silver color. It was also long and thick and shiny, usually worn, as now, in a ponytail down her back. The hair, combined with relatively unlined skin and strikingly large light brown eyes with dark lashes, created a disconcerting dissonance; Lee looked ageless-not young, not old, not middle-aged, a creature outside of time. This impression was enhanced by her tall, broad-shouldered frame, extremely fit body, and direct, even hearty manner. A hard woman to categorize.

As we made the requisite small talk, I was struck, as I had been before, at what an odd pairing she and Dominic Castillo must have been. I couldn't imagine what had drawn them together.

Apparently I was right about the possible reason for this call. Lee wasted no time in coming to the point. "I heard my ex was shot in your barnyard."

"So it seems," I said guardedly.

"I also hear that the cops are treating it as a possible murder."

"I hear that, too," I admitted.

"What do you think?" Lee demanded.

"I don't know what to think exactly," I said, wondering what Lee Castillo wanted from me. I noticed that her children had both stopped shoveling horse manure and were drifting in our direction, for all the world like my barn cats coming in to eat.

Lee caught my glance and looked over her shoulder. "You know my kids, don't you, Gail? Dam and Sophy."

"I think we've met," I said, smiling at each in turn.

Dam was a shock. No longer the pudgy teenager I'd last seen several years ago, he was instead a tall and heavily muscled young man with flat, expressionless eyes of the exact same shade as his mother's. Sophy, too, had changed-the rounded body more woman than girl, the expression on her face guarded. Neither of them smiled back at me.

"How old are you guys now?"

Dom looked down at his feet; Sophy shrugged.

After a minute Lee answered. "Dom just turned nineteen; Sophy's seventeen." Once again Lee's focus shifted back to my face. "According to the paper, you found Dominic and he said something to you. What was it? Was he murdered?"

I stared at Lee. "What did you read in the paper?" I hedged.

"Just what I told you," she said impatiently. "A quote from the investigating detective. I can't remember his name. That you had found Dominic and he'd spoken to you. That was it. No mention of what he said. Just that it was being treated as a potential homicide."

"Oh," I said.

"You can't blame me for being curious," Lee said firmly.

"No, I guess not." I was aware of Dom's eyes on me as I spoke and the unnerving intensity of Sophy's stare.

Lee seemed to catch the meaning in my glance. "Kids, could you go finish up with the barn?"

Neither kid moved or spoke.

Lee shrugged. "Oh, all right. I know you guys are curious, too. Gail, don't mind them. We all want to know."

Now I was really stuck. Whatever I may have thought of Dominic Castillo, these were his children. I felt totally unequal to the task of describing his last moments in a suitable manner.

As I took a deep breath, Dom spoke for the first time. "We can handle it," he said. The gaze that accompanied the words was the implacable, slightly sullen stare of adolescence.

"They can," Lee asserted. "Dominic wasn't part of their lives. They always understood how poorly he treated me; neither one of them had anything to do with him."

I wondered. It seemed unlikely to me that these kids were as indifferent to their father as Lee seemed to think.

Taking in my hesitation, Lee spoke again. "Gail, Dominic was a shit. He ran around on me constantly when we were married, and once we were divorced he reneged on the alimony and child support that he owed. And he didn't lack for money. Dom and Sophy know this. It's not surprising they didn't want anything to do with him."

"He never took an interest?" I asked.

Lee paused. Then she said forcefully, "He never lived up to his responsibilities. So, in the end, I got full custody. And none of us were interested in seeing Dominic."

I tried to find some emotion in either Dom's or Sophy's face in response to this statement. I couldn't. That steady mask of indifference so common to teenagers was firmly in place. I had the sense that no adult was likely to penetrate the facade.

I sighed. "There's not much to tell," I said finally. "Dominic said that he shot himself accidentally while he was cleaning his gun. I held his hand until the ambulance came. That was it."

For a moment no one spoke, but I could feel the ripple of shock go around the group.

"He said he shot himself," Lee repeated slowly.

"That's right."

"Then why are the cops calling it murder?"

"I'm not sure," I said honestly. "And now I've got a question for you. Do you know who Carlos Castillo is?"

"What?" Lee's jaw snapped shut as her eyes shot back to focus on mine. "How does he come into this?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "I heard the name. I was curious. Just like you," I reminded her.

"Oh," Lee said slowly. Then, "Kids, I really need you to finish up the barn. And Dom, go get that new horse so Gail can do his teeth." This time she spoke with some emphasis.

After a second, Dom and Sophy moved off toward the barn.

"They're great kids, really." Lee smiled proudly at the departing backs. "Dom's my right-hand man."

"So, who's Carlos?" I asked.

"Dominic's illegitimate son," Lee snapped. "Born the same year as Dom."

I did some quick thinking. "Oh," I said.

"That's right. Born while we were still happily married, or so I thought. I didn't find out the kid existed for several more years."

"How did you find out?"

"The mother came and told me. She was fed up with Dominic by then, too. It was her idea of revenge."

"Oh," I said again.

"Right," Lee agreed. "Not pretty. That's what life with Dominic was like. There was always one woman after another."

"And eventually he left," I hazarded.

"Are you kidding?" Lee laughed. "No way would Dominic have left me. No, that wasn't his idea. He wanted to have the wife and kids and numerous girlfriends on the side. I just got tired of it."

"Oh," I said again. "And you say he had money?"

"Not when we were together," Lee huffed. "Oh no, then it was pretty much hand-to-mouth; I had to take a job as a waitress for a while. But after we were divorced, Dominic's father died and left him a great deal of money."

"But he still worked as a horseshoer?"

Lee laughed. "Dominic was as tight with money as he was promiscuous with his sexual favors. Can you believe it? He wouldn't even pay his child support. His own kids. I was always taking him to court. Or trying to, anyway. He was pretty slippery, old Dominic."

I could see Dom leading a black horse out of the barn and tried one final question on Lee. "Do you think Dominic left his money to Dom and Sophy?"

"I sure hope so. Who else did he have to leave it to?" Lee shrugged.

Carlos, apparently, I thought but didn't say. Instead I got the electric floats we used for teeth out of my truck and filled a syringe up with tranquilizer.

Dom handed the horse's leadrope to his mom and I gave them both my best professional smile.

"Let's do some dental work," I said.

NINE

I left Lee Castillo's place having successfully smoothed and leveled her black gelding's teeth, but with my mind buzzing with speculation. Detective Johnson had asked me point-blank if I knew of anyone with a motive to murder Dominic Castillo. Well, here was someone with a very obvious motive. Money. Alive, Dominic had failed to pay what Lee thought he owed her and her kids. Dead, it seemed, she believed he'd pay handsomely.

And from what Jeri Ward had told me, Lee was right. Though it sounded as though she had a surprise coming in the form of Carlos Castillo and his inheritance. But still, surely this was a good solid motive.

I worked my way through several relatively routine calls-shots and worming for a Morgan mare, a sole abscess on a Peruvian Paso, another bit of equine dentistry on an ancient gelding who was teaching a seven-year-old girl to ride. Just as I was leaving this last job, my cell phone rang.

"Gail, it's Nancy. Doug Hoffman just called to say he's bringing a horse in. He thinks it may have broken a hind leg up high. Jim's in the middle of another emergency call up in Felton. Can you come?"

"Yeah, I can. I don't have anything that's too important. Call Elaine Delgado and tell her I'll be at least an hour late to do her preg check."

"Will do."

I sighed as I hit the button to end the call. I hated broken legs. Generally speaking, a broken leg would mean I'd have to euthanize the animal. Horses were just not constructed to get by on three legs, as dogs and cats did so readily. Neither were most horses able to stand the degree of confinement and immobility necessary to heal a broken leg bone. Thus a broken leg almost always meant a death sentence.

And I knew Doug Hoffman well; more than that, I knew his horses. Doug had learned to team rope in the same time period that I had; we'd often sat together commiserating over our mistakes. I wondered which of his three nice geldings had gotten hurt.

My favorite, it turned out. My heart sank like a stone when I saw the dapple-gray horse standing on three legs in the dirt parking lot behind the clinic. Mr. Twister, a horse I'd admired for years.

"Oh, no," I said out loud as I got out of the truck. "Not Twister. What happened?"

Doug shook his head. "You're not going to believe it, Gail. He ran into my truck."

"He what?"

"I know it sounds crazy. But he literally ran into my truck."

"How'd that happen?" I asked, as I stepped forward to lay a hand on the horse's neck, slightly damp with sweat.

Doug sighed. "I keep my horses in a little five-acre field just down the road from my house. I got home late last night, after dark, and drove down to throw some hay to the horses, as usual. Opened the gate, drove my pickup into the field, and headed for the shed where I keep the hay. There wasn't any moon, so I couldn't see much, just the road right ahead of me in the headlights.

"That road takes a bend around a big tree just before it gets to the hay shed. I came around the comer and saw this horse flying straight at me at a dead run. I slammed on the brakes and came to a complete stop; I thought he was going to come right through the windshield and end up in my lap.