Castillo crossed the room and pushed a button in the wall to open the panel, and disappeared for thirty seconds to speak to the bartender. Cash shifted on the uncomfortably soft couch as she waited, and busied herself, studying the chandelier made out of lollipops that hung from the ceiling. Curious decoration for a social club, she thought. Castillo quickly reappeared, explaining he had ordered himself a vodka martini and her a coffee.
Cash went through the preliminaries and then asked, “What was your relationship to Mr. Grooms?”
“If you’ve done any background research on me, you’ll know that I have a PhD in exobiology, from UC Berkeley, and I am one of the world’s foremost researchers on UAPs. I founded an organization that has amassed anencyclopedia of UAP activity—video, witness reports, you name it—that is second to none.”
“UAPs?” Cash pretended not to know the acronym, despite her prior research.
“Unidentified anomalous phenomena. Formerly known as UFOs. As you know, there’s a great deal of controversy on the subject—”
“How did you meet Grooms?” Cash tried to keep the conversation focused.
“I never did actually meet him. I heard rumors that this old guy in the mountains claimed to have seen a UAP crash. I spoke to him on the phone several times, and he sounded legitimate.”
“The reason for my visit to you, Mr. Castillo, is that the last calls
Mr. Grooms made from a satellite phone were to you. Can you tell me what those calls were about?”
“I certainly can. Again, this is confidential?”
“You have my assurance.” Of course, she could assure no such thing if it became evidence necessary for trial, but no point in discouraging a witness unnecessarily.
Cash paused as the waiter arrived with her coffee and Castillo’s vodka martini. Castillo made sure the panel was closed again before continuing.
“Mr. Grooms is—was—a very important witness. A rare witness to UAP activity.”
“Meaning?”
“Like I said, he claimed to have witnessed a UAP crash. In the wilderness where he lived. As the world’s foremost UAP researcher, I naturally wanted to know more about it. That is the reason for our many phone calls. I was trying to organize an expedition into the Flat Tops—which Mr. Grooms said he would lead to the site of the crash.”
“Okay,” said Cash. Her heart was sinking—were the phone calls really only about UFOs? “And you’re aware that Mr. Grooms was diagnosed with schizophrenia?”
At this, Castillo leaned back. “I’m well aware of that. Schizophrenics are just as capable of witnessing a UAP crash as anyone else.”
“But much better at seeing things that aren’t there.” Cash sipped her coffee—not Bustelo but not bad. This club was perhaps growing on her.
“That’s always a possibility. Agent Cash, I am a skeptic. Don’t mistake me for one of those UAP nutjobs. I spoke many times to Mr. Grooms. I am absolutely convinced he witnessed the real thing.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Details. Nuances. My previous in-depth research. Trust me, I can smell a phony UAP story a mile away. What Mr. Grooms witnessed lines up with so much of my research—things he couldn’t possibly know. He saw the real thing—I promise you.”
Cash nodded. “Okay. What else did you discuss in those calls?”
“He liked to talk about his gold mining and his sculptures, that sort of thing. Oh, and the monster in a lake. There’s your schizophrenia at work. I’ve no interest in those things—only the UAP crash.”
“So you never met Mr. Grooms in person?”
“No. I was hoping to.” Castillo shook his head again, looking down at his lap. “I can’t believe he’s gone. What a shock.”
“Did Grooms have any enemies that you know of? Someone who might wish him harm?”
At this, Castillo fell silent.
Cash waited as the silence stretched on. Finally, she spoke. “If you know anything relevant to the homicide, now would be the time to tell me.”
“May I ask you a question?”
“Go ahead.”
