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“I won’t.”
Her lips twist, but she nods and leans in to kiss my cheek just as Jeremy walks back out.
“Well, Wife,” he sighs, settling back into his chair. “Wanna hear about the time this motherfucker got dysentery in Somalia?”
32
CALLIE
I shift uncomfortablyin the booth at the back of the diner in Brooklyn. I’m wearing a baseball hat and big sunglasses, and I glance around the place, anxiously looking to see if anyone is watching me.
Which is ridiculous. I mean, it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong.
So why does it feel like I am?
Why does it feel like I’m committing a crime, or cheating on Castle? Maybe it’s because Iammeeting another man here. And it does involve breaking Castle’s trust.
“Mrs. Kildare?”
I start, almost spilling my coffee as I yank my gaze up to the portly older man with a bushy gray mustache standing over me. He slides into the booth across from me.
“Thanks for meeting me.”
Bill Grenshaw is the private investigator Elsa referred me to about six weeks ago. I’d actually almost forgotten I’d even hired him until yesterday, when he reached out to ask if I was available to meet up today to go over what he’d discovered.
…About Castle.
Bill smiles, glancing around the room. “I can appreciate the discretion, Mrs. Kildare—”
“Just Callie is fine.”
He nods. “Callie, of course. But I think you might actually be callingmoreattention to yourself wearing sunglasses indoors.”
Shit.
I pull them off, flushing as my lips twist together.
“So…” Bill clears his throat and pulls a file folder out of a backpack. He sets it on the table, frowning as he keeps a hand on top of it.
“Look, to be honest, you’re paying for this either way. But Ialwayslike to double check with people before they open Pandora’s box. Especially when it’s a spouse.”
I nod.
“Like, maybe you were mad at the time, but now everything’s fine. The toothpaste doesn’t go back in the tube, know what I’m saying? So… You sure?”
I chew on my lip and raise my eyes to his. “I’m sure.”
“Okay.” He nods as he opens the folder.
“Christopher Michael James.” He smirks. “I mean how fuckin’ Irish Catholic can you get, right?”
When I don’t return the smile, his immediately drops and he clears his throat again. “Right, well… Also known as Castle, thirty-three years old, born in New York City. Parents Robert and Cynthia. One sibling, a sister, Kelly. The word on the street is that he’s…”
He glances up at me and smiles weakly.
“Well, being that I know your maiden name, miss, can I assume you already know what he does for a living?”
I just nod mutely.
