Perlmutter's Pup
Castle looked up from his laptop at the sound of a hesitant knock on his open office door. "Why Perlmutter, and I say this sincerely, this is a surprise."
"On both sides, Mr. Castle," Perlmutter admitted. "I never thought I would ever be seeking out your services, but I find myself in need of a private detective and unfortunately you're the only one I know."
"If you're calling me 'Mr. Castle,' you must be desperate," Castle noted. "So for what purpose do you need my expertise: to track down a rare poison or perhaps an exotic weapon?"
"No Castle, I have real, by which I mean police detectives to do that," Perlmutter returned, his customary abrasiveness asserting itself. "I need you to find a dog."
"You want to me to waste my crime solving genius on a lost dog?" Castle responded, offended.
"No, not lost," Perlmutter hastened to explain. "Mistakenly taken. My niece left her dog with me while she is on a trip to study wildlife in the Galapagos islands, but I've been so busy, I had to check it into a kennel. When I went to pick it up, they brought me the wrong dog. It looked almost exactly like my niece's dog, but her dog loves kibble and this dog won't touch it. I also compared it very carefully to a couple of pictures of her dog she's sent me over the years. The pattern of freckles on the muzzle isn't right. My niece's dog was picked up by someone by mistake and I need you to find it before she gets home next week."
Castle looked dubious. "The kennel should have records of who picked up the dog, Perlmutter. Even an anti-social curmudgeon like you should be able to track whoever it is down."
"Castle," Perlmutter argued exasperatedly, "if it were that easy, do you think I'd be here? The dog was picked up by a courier who had no way of knowing it was the wrong one. The bill was paid in cash. The kennel had no idea where the dog was going. All the kennel has is the dog's inoculation record and that comes from a mass inoculation drive at a big pet store. There was no current address or phone number for the owner."
"Okay, Perlmutter," Castle agreed, "but if I find the dog for you, I want something."
"I'm willing to pay a reasonable fee, Castle," Perlmutter offered.
Castle shook his head. "Not money. I have more than you'll ever make. The next time you handle a case for Beckett, I want entry to the morgue, free and unimpeded. Deal?"
Perlmutter sighed and gritted his teeth. "Deal."
"You're kidding, right," Beckett sputtered into her cell phone. "A case for Perlmutter?"
Castle grinned through the screen. "If you'd seen his face you'd know that it was so worth it. He looked like he'd swallowed a toad. Anyway, the people at the kennel told me what direction the courier headed. They said they saw a suitcase when he put the dog's carrier in the car, so he should be stopping somewhere and there are only so many dog friendly places to stay. I'll trace his route."
"You have a picture of the courier?" Beckett asked.
"No," Castle replied, "but I have his description and I have a picture of the dog Perlmutter gave me. Someone will have seen them. I may be on the road a while. I'll miss you." Castle blew a kiss at the screen.
"I'll miss you too," Beckett replied, blowing one back. "Try to stay out of trouble."
"I always try," Castle assured her, ending the session.
"Yeah, but you never succeed," Beckett muttered at the empty screen.
Castle had been driving most of the day and stopped at his tenth motel. Unlike the others he had visited, this one was an independent, without a national brand. The building was old and weathered, the paint peeling. The chairs in the lobby appeared to have survived the Danish craze of the sixties while the orange shag carpet screamed psychedelic dreams. The woman behind the desk had her nose firmly planted in a copy of Raging Heat. She looked up grudgingly when Castle rang the bell, but her eyes widened when she saw the face that matched the one on her book jacket. "Richard Castle? What are you doing in this dump?"
Castle gave her what he hoped was his most endearing smile. "Always pleased to meet a fan. Actually two things, research for my next book and a favor for a - friend. Castle showed her the picture of the missing dog. You haven't by any chance seen this cute canine, have you?"
"Sign my book and I'll tell you," the woman bargained, batting obviously false lashes.
Castle worked to keep his smile intact and pulled out the Sharpie he kept for fan emergencies. "Well that would be my very great pleasure, uh..."
"Mitzi," the woman finished. "Sign it to Mitzi."
Castle signed the dust jacket with a flourish and handed back the book. "Now Mitzi, if you'd be so kind as to tell me where the dog is."
"Cabin six," Mitzi responded, "but watch out for the human with the dog. He's kind of a jerk."
Castle kissed her hand. "Noted."
Castle picked his way carefully over the broken pavement of the path leading to the cabin and knocked on the door. He saw the muzzle of the gun before he saw the arm reach out and drag him inside. "You've been behind me for the better part of a day. What do you want?"
Castle held his hands in the air while trying to remember the details of his online self defense course. "It's about the dog."
The courier pointed his pistol menacingly. "Well of course it is. There's a big payoff waiting for the delivery of this mutt, but how did you find out about it?"
"Find out about what?" Castle asked confused. "The kennel gave you the wrong dog. The one you have belongs to the niece of a client of mine. I'm just here to reunite a pooch with his loving owner."
"Yeah, right," the courier replied. "And I'm Santa Claus. Maybe being tied up for the night will improve your memory." He motioned Castle to a chair, yanked electrical cords from two lamps and tied Castle down. The courier pulled out his cell phone. "Yeah, I've got the item but there's been a little complication. I'm dealing with it."
As the sun went down, the room grew dim with light from only the one one remaining lamp. The courier lounged on the sagging bed while the dog dozed in his carrier in the corner. Finally the courier fell asleep, his snores vibrating the cracked headboard. Castle took advantage of the time to work to free himself, rubbing the cord that held his wrists across a spot where the worn chair was splintered and rough. He silently cursed Perlmutter as his shoulders cramped from the effort. As the sky lightened again, the dog began to whimper and the courier opened his eyes. "Guess he has to take care of his business."
Castle made a show of shifting uncomfortably. "He's not the only one."
The courier smirked. "Well I'm going to take him out and when we get back, I might let you use the facilities, if you tell me what I want to know." The courier freed the dog from his carrier, attached a leash and ushered him through the door. "Don't miss us too much," he taunted Castle.
Castle sawed the cord hard over the abrasive wood. The rubber insulation was gone and he was finally rewarded by the parting of the thin copper strands inside. He escaped the cabin and pulled out his cell phone. He crouched in a hiding place in the surrounding woods, where he could keep an eye on the cabin entrance. The 911 dispatcher was skeptical at Castle's story, but when Castle gave Beckett as a reference, promised to send help. Castle found a small log to use as a weapon and waited for the courier to return or the police to arrive. The courier was first. When the courier stopped short, cursing and staring at Castle's empty chair, Castle whacked him on the head, stunning him long enough to relieve him of his gun and tie him up.
The police arrived to some confusion, taking Castle for the gunman. Castle's proud display of his PI's license was not enough to convince the officers, who checked with the desk clerk and called both Beckett and an extremely annoyed Perlmutter before Castle's cuffs were removed.
Glasses of red wine in hand, Castle and Beckett cuddled on the couch in front of the merrily dancing flames of the fireplace. "Castle, only you could take the case of a missing dog and stumble into industrial espionage."
"Well it was all Perlmutter's fault," Castle complained. "He had to put he niece's dog into a kennel with an almost identical dog implanted with a microchip with a new pet food formula. What were the odds?"
Beckett laughed, smoothing back the hair that had fallen over Castle's brow. "Astronomical, but that's never stopped you before. Are you sorry you took the case?"
Castle grinned. "Not a bit. I get complete access to the morgue on your next body drop and the best thing was Perlmutter's agony when I brought back the dog and he had had to admit I solved the case. That was worth everything."
"So how is my private dick going to celebrate his victory?" Beckett purred, starting to unbutton Castle's shirt.
"Now that's a mystery," Castle murmured, pulling at the snap that secured her collar. "But I'm sure my advanced detecting skills can solve it." He swept her into his arms and carried her to their bed. Then to the alluring soundtrack of Beckett's sighs, Castle spent the night pursuing all of her intimate clues.
