Castle Cay

Chapter 25

Given that she was still alive and breathing, Julie decided not to press her luck by asking God for a parking space. She left the new rental - a Camry - at the Marriott, and walked up State Street for her one-thirty appointment with Matt Castle.

Entering the lobby of the building, Julie noticed that the law firm was the only occupant of the top floor. She took the elevator up and stepped out into a large reception area. It was designed to impress: large oriental carpets atop highly polished hardwood floors and Old English mahogany furniture. There was a gold sign on the wall facing the elevator:

CONNOR, CASTLE & MANN

A dignified older woman sat at a desk to the right. She smiled as Julie approached. "Good afternoon. May I help you?"

"Yes. I'm Julie O'Hara. I'm here to see Mr. Castle. I have an appointment."

The woman glanced at her computer.

"Oh, yes, Ms. O'Hara," she said. "Mr. Castle is expecting you. Would you have a seat? I'll let him know that you're here. Please help yourself to the coffee over there."

Julie passed on the coffee; she was jittery enough from her 'accident' in Salem.

Matt Castle came out to meet her almost immediately, and she remembered him from the funeral. He was a tall man in a dark gray pinstriped suit with an impeccable shirt and tie. His hair was turning gray at the temples which gave him a solid, patrician air. He welcomed her warmly.

"Ms. O'Hara?" he said, extending his hand. "I'm Matthew Castle. Please call me Matt. It's a pleasure to finally meet Marc's best friend, Merlin. He never ceased bragging about you."

"Please, call me Julie," she said, shaking his hand. "Marc was becoming so well known that I was the one bragging about being his friend. I know he cared a great deal for you, too, Matt. He spoke of you many times. I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," he said. "Come, let's go to my office."

Julie followed him down a hallway past smaller offices to a large, windowed corner suite. The overall impression was English Hunt Club: crimson leather on polished dark wood, oil landscapes and hunting prints. The walls were filled with law books and accreditation, family photos artfully interspersed.

Rather than sitting opposite her at his desk, he led her to a pair of club chairs.

"Julie. I'm going to be frank with you," he said, unbuttoning his suit jacket and taking a seat. "I'm deeply suspicious about my nephew's death. Marc was not at all suicidal."

Julie's impression of Matt Castle as an ally was all but confirmed with those words.

"No, he wasn't," said Julie. "Marc and I discussed the subject once. He was emphatic about suicide being cowardly. He specifically said that it was cruel to loved ones who were left behind. He would never have taken his own life."

"Do you think it could have been an accident?" asked Matt. "Did you know it was an injection?"

"I just learned that," said Julie, "but I don't know what it was."

"They told me it was oxycodone."

"Oxycodone? There's no way this was an accident! I think Marc was murdered."

"Yes," said Matt, "so do I."

They were quiet for a moment, the enormity of that sinking in.

"There's something else, Matt. Someone tried to kill me this morning."

His eyes widened in shock and concern.

Julie recounted her close call, in all its harrowing detail.