Jose Corzal was sprawled in his chair, casually biting his nails. He barely even looked up as Frankie and Horatio entered. Frankie had already agreed that Horatio should be the main interviewer for this one, and stayed silent while Horatio confirmed Corzal's name and address.

"What happened this morning?"

Jose shrugged carelessly. "Don't know."

"You did earlier." Horatio was deliberately short with the man, hoping to provoke a response.

"Earlier was different," Corzal snapped tersely. "Now, I don't know."

"Don't remember or won't say?"

Corzal shrugged again, and looked away, out of the window. After a brief glance at Horatio, Frankie took up the questioning. "Did you know two other people claimed to have shot Rafael Hernandez?"

"Well, it probably wasn't me then," he sneered.

"Don't you want to know who else admitted to it?" While they were waiting on ballistics evidence and trace to come back with results, Horatio and Frankie had both agreed that it seemed unlikely that all three had admitted to the same crime without any link between them. There simply had to be some connection.

Corzal shrugged again in response. Horatio just looked at him. "Sofia Hernandez and Mick Buchanan."

"So?" Corzal sounded nonchalant, but Frankie thought she saw him wince at the first name.

"You know Sofia, don't you?" She spoke quietly and was rewarded by a quick, shocked glance from Corzal, before he resumed his mask of indifference. "You do." Frankie's eyes widened in sudden understanding. "You're her boyfriend."

Corzal's lips twisted, as though he wanted to say something. Horatio leaned back in his seat and smiled grimly. "She thought you did it, didn't she? And you found out she confessed, so you confessed to protect her, but now you know she didn't do it. That's right, isn't it Jose?"

Corzal sighed and nodded. "Sofia knows Rafa and I don't get on. She knows we argue. I found Rafa's body and she saw me standing over him and must have thought I did it." He looked up at Horatio then, met his gaze. "I had to protect my woman. You know what that is like."

Horatio raised his eyebrows slightly and nodded. "You're still going to have to wait for ballistics to confirm your story Mr Corzal, but then you're free to go."

"I thought he was meant to be a supplier," Frankie reminded him, as they left the interview room.

"We have nothing to hold him on, and we can't get a warrant for his place unless we get some evidence," Horatio sighed. "I wonder if Sofia knows, given how she feels about drugs."

"So we're left with Mick Buchanan, the very angry cuckold."

"Well, let's hope he's a better suspect than the other two," Horatio said dryly. Mick Buchanan was the only one who had asked for his attorney. They were conferring quietly when Horatio held the door for Frankie to enter, and they fell silent at their approach.

"Mr Buchanan, I am sorry it's taken so long to get to you, but I am sure you were aware of the odd circumstances this morning," Frankie said smoothly, introducing herself and Horatio. He remained standing, leaning against one of the windows.

"My client wishes it to be noted that he has retracted his statement of this morning," the lawyer said, just as smoothly.

Horatio, still looking out of the window, nodded to himself. "So why did he say he murdered someone?"

"Shock."

Frankie bit her lip to prevent a laugh. She had to hand it to lawyers: they came up with some brilliant stories to help out their clients. Shock rarely made people admit to murder, and certainly didn't provide them with motive for it. "Is your wife having an affair, Mr Buchanan?"

He turned to stare at her, eyes glaring hatred. "None of your business."

Smiling brightly, she replied, "I think it is."

He shook his head, and Horatio said, "It became our business when you claimed that as your motive for murder."

"But my client has already retracted that confession," the lawyer reminded them. "And I have advised my client not to say anything else."

Horatio smiled to himself. Frankie looked at the table as she recognised that smile. It was the one that said he knew he was about to win. "Mr Buchanan's confession, retracted or otherwise, will not matter when his clothes are fully processed. Gunshot residue will prove he was the shooter, and a statement from his wife will clear up whether she was having an affair. So, you can advise your client however you like, I don't think we're going to need his statement."

Buchanan stood up, his chair scraping loudly along the floor. "He slept with my wife!" His lawyer made shushing motions, and tried to calm him down, but it was no good. "He slept with my wife! What was I meant to do? Stand back? Let him take what was mine? Let him humiliate me further?"

"Thank you Mr Buchanan." Horatio finally turned to look at the man. "Take a seat. We'll be back shortly."

When they got outside, Frankie turned to him with a smile. "Remind me never to play poker against you. What GSR are you talking about? His clothes haven't been processed yet!"

He shot her a mischievous grin. "I like to bluff."

"I'd noticed," she replied wryly. She yawned and then grimaced. "This pregnancy thing is really taking it out of me. I hope it's not going to be like this for the next seven months. I'd like to stay awake longer than five hours!"

Horatio looked at her with concern. She did look tired, her eyes shadowed. "Go home and get some rest," he told her gently.

"But…"

"No buts," he said firmly. "I'll call you if we need you. Go on, take advantage of the fact it's a slow day."

"Take advantage of the fact I'm married to the boss, you mean," she grinned.

"That too." She laughed and stretched up to kiss him deeply. He held her tightly, aware that she had become his entire reason for living. "Go on, both of you."

Frankie laughed again. "I was thinking about the name Olivia for a girl."

He tilted his head, giving the idea proper consideration. "I like it. What about for a boy?"

"Not sure. We've still got a while to think up a few options though."

"Chess, go home and get some rest." He watched as the elevator doors closed, smiling to himself. How he ever got this lucky, he would never know.