Lovely Rita, Meter Maid
Summary: What if Rita isn't who she says she is? I told myself I wasn't going to write a season 8 story but this idea just popped in my head.
Author's Notes: Don't own Castle; just writing to mess with the characters. And this is probably going to be short, maybe just a couple of chapters because I don't have time to write a long story now.
Chapter 1 No Honor among Thieves
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The semi-darkness that blanketed NYC at night had already descended as Rita sat cattycornered down the street from Castle's loft, parked away from a street light, her soccer mom SUV blending in with all the other cars.
She sat still so as not to attract attention of the people strolling by, out for a cup of coffee or late dinner, and patiently watched, knowing that the seeds she had planted would soon come to harvest.
"Good," she said finally with a self-satisfied smirk as she watched Beckett tearfully throw a bag into the back of her NYPD issued car and drive away.
"How'd you know she'd leave?" the man sitting hidden in the backseat asked.
"Because that's who she is," Rita replied. "Bracken was right. She'll always be tilting at windmills no matter the cost."
"Now what? Do we take care of Beckett and Singh?"
"Oh, no, dearie," Rita replied. "We give them just enough rope to play with. That should keep them preoccupied. And then we'll take care of Mr. Castle in couple of weeks – a simple accident that will leave Kate both a widow and with an unsolvable mystery because she just left the one person who could identify us."
The man nodded. "Good."
"Now the more delicate dance will be keeping Hunt out of the way until then. It won't do us any good for him to start meddling now," Rita said as she started the car. "I'm assuming you've handled that."
At the man's nod, she drove away.
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In Los Angeles, DEA CSU investigators Trevor Mullins and Taney Nguyen carefully suited up before entering the storage building, nicknamed 'the Den of Inequity,' that housed the large shipments of drugs seized in busts in the southern California area and that were still being held pending a trial.
"Which shipment are we looking for again?" Mullins asked as they walked through the rows of metal shelving, each pushing a large dolly.
"Lot number CA97645," replied Nguyen, checking her iPad. "From a bust two days ago in the Warehouse District of LA. The DEA agents just sealed the crates on site and dropped them off here for inventory."
"Got them," said Mullins as he matched the lot number. He snorted. "Ha – these guys are really ingenious – shipping the drugs in medical supply crates."
"Told you so," said Nguyen as she frowned at six large wooden crates stacked two crates high. "And we should have brought the forklift."
"Yeah, you're right. I'll go back and get it. Why don't you start on the inventory?" Mullins asked.
"Sure," said Nguyen, waving as Mullins walked off.
She sat up the tripod and hooked up the camera so they would have visual evidence of the inventory in case there was some question in court. You could never be too careful these days.
She started the camera and walked in front of it.
"CSU investigator Tanney Nyugen, November 15, 2015; inventory of lot number CA97645," she said as a way of introduction.
She pulled up the list on her iPad and carefully matched each crate number to a matching number on the list of items inventoried at the drug bust.
"All crates are accounted for," she said and then picked up the cordless drill from the dolly.
She quickly unscrewed the top of the crate and then opened it, laying the top down on the dolly.
"Inventory of crate number CA97645 – 1."
She reached inside and pulled out several packages of bandages. "One layer of medical dressings, covering…" she looked inside and pulled out a fake bottom… "what appears to be bricks of a white powder of unknown origin."
She undid the top of the next crate and repeated the same findings, and then looked back over her shoulder as Mullins drove up on the forklift.
"Do you want the honors?" he asked.
Nguyen smiled and shook her head. "No, you go ahead."
She moved the camera out of the way as Mullins carefully slid the forks into the pallet under the top crate and then lifted it up and sat it on a dolly.
Nguyen carefully took out each brick, weighed it, took a small sample, taped up the hole, and then put it back in the crate.
When she had inventoried all of the items in the crate, she screwed the lid back shut and added a seal that the inventory had been completed, as Mullins got the next crate ready.
They had inventoried 3 crates and were starting on the 4th when the 'incident' occurred.
Nguyen had removed the bandages and bent over to pull out the first brick, but found that it was stuck, so she pulled harder, only to have the wrapping tear in her hands.
"Oh, damn!" she exclaimed, looking at the white powder that now covered the inside of the crate.
"What happened?" asked Mullins as he rushed over.
Nguyen shook her head. "I don't know – the packages stuck together and then just tore open when I tried to pull them out."
"Well, good thing we're were protective gear," said Mullins.
Nguyen held up the empty plastic package and examined it. "Hey, does that look like blood to you?"
Mullins squinted at the wrapper. "Yeah, it does – that would explain them sticking together."
"And those look like fingerprints," said Nguyen, taking a picture of the prints and sending it to the lab. "Someone's going away."
"And maybe they'll roll and lead us to the head guy," said Mullins. "You know what they say – there is no honor among thieves."
Nguyen turned to the camera. "Did you get that?" she asked rhetorically.
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Mullins and Nguyen had finished the inventory, showered, and changed back into street clothes when the text alert sounded on her phone.
"Got a match," she said to Mullins as she walked out of the locker room.
"Already?"
"Yeah, the fingerprints were in the system," said Nguyen. "And the winner is…"
Mullins did a drum roll on his knees.
"Richard Edgar Castle?" Nguyen said in disbelief as she looked at the text.
"The mystery writer?" asked Mullins as he looked over her shoulder at the phone.
"Yeah," answered Nguyen, nodding slowly. She quickly dialed a number.
"Hey, Frank, this is Tan. We just did your inventory and someone left evidence in the crates. And you are not going to believe who it is."
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