Rick and Kate had barely gotten in the car when Kate's phone rang. "Lanie," she said, glancing at the screen. Making sure the phone was on speaker, she picked up. "Hey Lanie," she greeted her friend. "What've you got for us?"
"Not much," the other woman's voice replied. "Mrs. Langston's hands, arms, and torso are covered in fourth-degree burns, and the rest of the body would likely classify somewhere between third and fourth." Rick grimaced, and noticed Kate doing likewise. "Given the pattern, though," Lanie continued, "I think that it's safe to say that she was holding whatever did this to her."
"Any theories as to what that was?" Kate asked.
"Pocket flamethrower?" Rick tossed out.
"Sorry Kate," Lanie replied, ignoring Rick. "That's it for right now."
"It's better than nothing. Thanks Lanie," Kate replied. With that, she disconnected the call. "Pocket flamethrower?" she asked, turning the key in the ignition. "Is that the best you've got, Castle?"
"I didn't hear you offer any brilliant theories," he replied in the same teasing tone. She glanced at him long enough that he could see the smile in her eyes before turning her attention to the traffic. "Back to the precinct?" he asked.
She nodded. "I want to see what Ryan and Esposito have found, see if there's any reason that the Secret Service would be interested in her."
"Maybe she's a former spy," Rick said. "Or a counter-terrorism expert. Or…" His next brainwave was cut off as his stomach let out a clearly audible rumble.
"Hungry, Rick?" Kate laughed.
"Hey it's been a long time since breakfast!" he protested.
"Call the boys," Kate told him. "Find out what they want for lunch and tell them we'll bring it with us."
Like most other meals at the precinct, it was a working lunch.
"I just can't see why someone would want to murder Mrs. Langston," Ryan commented as they sat around the table in the conference room. Files and food containers shared the space in equal parts. "She doesn't have a record, and the only time her name appears in any police files is this report from two years ago."
"What was that about?" Kate asked.
Ryan flipped open a folder and scanned the document inside. "Uh, she filed a noise complaint against her then-neighbor in the apartment building where she lives."
Kate motioned for the report, and Ryan handed it over. "The guy doesn't live there anymore?"
"Got kicked out for not paying the rent on time for several months in a row," Esposito replied.
"Any chance he's holding a grudge?"
"Given that he's moved out of the city, I'd say the answer is no."
"What about the alarm system?" Castle spoke up. "Did you find anything there?"
"I called the company and got their records," Ryan explained. "Everything lines up with what the assistants told us. The system was armed at eight-oh-three last night, and then someone deactivated it at six-thirty this morning."
"Can we confirm that it was our victim?"
Esposito nodded. "Footage from the front door camera shows her arriving at six-twenty-nine."
"Didn't the one assistant say that he was normally the first one to arrive?" Castle asked.
"Yeah," Ryan agreed, flipping to the appropriate page in his notes. "Yeah, Curt Edmonds mentioned that."
"So why did Mary Langston go in early today?" Kate asked.
"Maybe she couldn't sleep?" Esposito suggested.
"Or maybe she was running away from something," Castle stated. "Maybe she and her wife are having problems, and she's using work as an escape."
"Mrs. Langston didn't mention anything like that when we interviewed her," Kate reminded him, sighing. "What about financials? Anything in there?" she queried the other two.
Esposito snagged the appropriate printout from the pile. "Not much," he informed them, scanning the page. "Mrs. Langston had two credit cards: A family one and one in the business's name. Looks like the family went out to dinner two nights ago. The most recent charge on the business card was to an Internet auction site."
"Do we know what she bought?"
"I think that's the box of models Edmonds mentioned," Ryan said, digging through the pile. "Here we go," he continued, pulling out a sheet. "Copy of the packing slip."
Kate reached for the page, and Ryan passed it over. "Maybe," Castle said as she looked over the page, "one of the models was more valuable than she realized. Maybe someone killed her to take it."
"I don't think so, bro," Esposito said. "There's nothing special about any of those toys."
"First of all, they're models, not toys," Castle corrected him. "Second, do you have any idea how much some models are worth?"
"I don't know, Castle," Kate joined in, looking up from the receipt, "she didn't pay that much for any of these."
"Maybe the seller didn't know what they had. Isn't it at least worth checking out?" he persisted.
"Fine," Kate relented. "You two keep digging," she instructed Ryan and Esposito. "See if you can find anything else that would explain what happened. C'mon, Castle." She got up from the table, making sure to bring the packing slip with her. "Let's take a look at those models."
Ten minutes later, a uniform cop dropped off the box from Evidence. Castle promptly opened it and plunged a hand inside. "Ooh Kate, check it out! The Discovery One!"
"Do you ever act your age?"
He looked up from the box, smirking. "I don't seem to recall you asking that last night."
Kate arched a disapproving eyebrow at him, but had to struggle to keep from smiling. When his smirk merely widened, she quickly looked back at the paper Ryan had given her. "I'll read the descriptions, you find the models."
It took longer than she would have thought to go through the box. As Rick exclaimed more than once, the seller clearly had had no idea what half of the items were supposed to be. "How can you not recognize a luck dragon?" he moaned at one point.
Finally, though, Kate read the last description. "Martian tripod from War of the Worlds."
"Uh-oh."
Kate's eyes flew up to meet Rick's as he turned the box upside-down. Nothing dropped out.
"Great," Kate sighed. "Just great."
As Edmonds and Mitchell left the café, Helena heard a small sigh escape from the person next to her. "Chin up, darling," she said, taking Myka's left hand in her right. "We'll sort this out."
"I know," Myka said, squeezing her hand. "I was just thinking about how we were supposed to spend the day at the museum."
Smiling, Helena leaned over and placed a kiss on Myka's cheek. "We'll go tomorrow," she promised. "Now then, shall we call Artie and tell him what we've found?"
Bzzzzzt. Bzzzzzt. Bzzzzzt.
"Speak of the devil," Myka stated, disentangling her hand and reaching into her jacket. "Impeccable timing, Artie," she greeted their boss once the case was open.
"We try," Claudia's voice replied. Myka angled the screen, allowing Helena to see Artie and Claudia.
"I take it you have something?" Artie asked.
"The assistants mentioned that Mrs. Langston bought a bunch of models for the shop earlier this week," Helena replied.
"On it." Claudia disappeared from the picture.
Artie watched her go before turning back to the camera. "Anything else?"
"Not really," Myka stated. "What about you, Artie? Any clues on what artifact we're looking for?"
"Well," the elder agent said, holding up a sheet of paper, "I did find a few items that fit the bill. Let's see: The Reed of Prometheus-"
"As in the Titan who gave fire to man?" Myka sounded incredulous.
"Darling, we did retrieve Joshua's Trumpet," Helena reminded her.
"—an Agni medallion," Artie continued, glaring at the pair's interruption, "a stone from the bakery of Thomas Farriner-"
"Who?" Claudia's voice asked from off-screen.
"He's the owner of the bakery where the Great Fire of London started in 1666," Helena informed the younger woman.
"Ahem."
"Sorry Artie," Myka apologized. "Please continue."
Helena fought a smile at the glare their boss wore. He clearly was not as put out as he pretended. "As I was saying," the man stated, "another item on the list was a model of a fireman from Fahrenheit 451-"
"Speaking of models," Claudia's voice interrupted again. The screen image blurred before settling on the young tech's face. "Just pulled up the receipt for that order that Mrs. Langston made."
"What was in the shipment?" Myka asked.
Claudia's eyes shifted to something out of the camera's view, presumably her computer screen. "Well, some of these descriptions suck, but a few of them are decipherable. Let's see, we've got the Discovery One, a figurine of the Tin Woodsman…" Her voice trailed off. "Huh."
"What is it Claud?" Myka prompted.
"One of the models is listed as 'Martian tripod from War of the Worlds'."
"Well that's a hell of a coincidence," Myka laughed.
"I know, right?" Claudia smirked. "Check it out: There's even a picture."
The view on the Farnsworth shifted again, coming to rest on an image displayed on Claudia's computer monitor.
"Damn," Helena breathed.
Author's Note: The muse was in a cooperative mood, hence the short time between posts. Look for the next update sometime in the next couple of weeks. Thanks for reading!