Monster: Chapter 11

DISCLAIMER: None of these characters are mine, but they are memorable. Thank you, Mr. Marlowe.

Day 10: Norfolk, Virginia, at 10:05 a.m.

"I appreciate you finding the time to meet with me, Mr. Marks."

Kate Beckett slides an envelope across the table to her companion, Peter Marks. A local boatman from the area, it was his craft that was hijacked in the Chesapeake Bay a month ago. After her briefing with Esposito and Ryan, and now that she has some time on her hands, thanks to a leave of absence, she has decided to travel back to the source.

Not the source of her fiancée's abduction, but to the spot where two lions went missing.

"All this time," she thinks to herself, "the biggest clue we could have hoped for was staring us smack in the face, front and center in both videos."

The clue, of course, is the lions. The common thread between both videos were Richard Castle and two lions. Not a coincidence.

After her colleagues had left, Kate had packed a night bag, then unpacked it, and re-packed a few extra things in a larger carry-on suitcase. Then she made her way to LaGuardia for a trip down south. Her first stop – Norfolk, Virginia, where the man sitting across from her now lives. She had looked him up and found him easily enough.

In Kate's mind, this is the best place to start – if she is going to think like a detective. The videos raised questions – tough ones – but they also provided her with enough hypothetical answers to give her a starting point. The plane ride to Norfolk was easy, with her deep in thought about the possibilities and the probabilities.

Possibilities?

Richard Castle got cold feet, and ran off. Kyra was her first choice. She has ruled both the scenario and the woman out, after careful consideration. Someone sent the videos to the mayor. Not to her. But whoever sent the videos had to know they would get back to her. So if Castle had run off with a woman, and someone wanted Kate to know, well, then the woman would have been in the videos. Just the realization of this alone has caused her great relief. For the first few days, there was no doubt in her mind that he had been abducted. After a week, well, it's just human nature when other types of fears creep into one's mind.

So – having decided that he has been abducted, Kate's next hypothesis is that he is being kept somewhere remote, and the lions are keeping him captive. There was a fence – not the rod-iron kind, or the brick or marble walls one would associate with a resort. No, this fence was barbed wire. The kind to keep someone in, or keep someone out. Or both.

The disappearance of two lions – being hijacked at sea, no less – brought into focus this latest hypothesis. Castle is missing, taken ten days ago. Two lions are missing, taken a month ago. These are two scenarios which are long-shot occurrences – a writer being kidnapped and two lions being stolen. Yet there they are – on the same video – the missing writer and two lions. No coincidence.

Knowing that the lions were destined for Norfolk, and knowing that the boat owner of the missing watercraft is located in Norfolk – well, that seems the best place to start. With him.

Marks creates a slight crack in the envelope, enough to garner a peek inside. He cannot help the gasp that escapes from his mouth at the sight of five – he is counting them now – five one-thousand dollar bills. Five thousand dollars is a lot of money to push across the table to a stranger. Kate, of course, decided that Richard Castle wouldn't mind her spending some of his money to find him. He has told her, a number of times, that it is their money.

"Not until we're official," she had told him each time. Now, given the current circumstances, she knows he would not begrudge her a change in mind.

"There is more – so much more – where this came from," she tells the man. Then, to ensure he doesn't get any wild ideas, she opens her short jacket to reveal the NYPD-issued pistol in her coat, and puts her NYPD badge on the table. She also allows opens the other side of her jacket, revealing a knife, sheathed and attached to her pocket. It has the desired effect.

"I'm not here in any official capacity," she smiles affably, "but I am showing you what is in store for you if you screw with me. You can give me what I am looking for – and be well rewarded for it – or you can screw me over, and be well rewarded for that," she tells him, tapping her gun lightly.

"That's not a hard choice, miss," Marks tells her, picking up the envelope and stuffing it in his pants pocket.

"I hoped it wouldn't be," Kate smiles. "Now, all I want is some information – probably the same information you gave the local police here."

"They didn't seem too terribly interested, the bastards," he comments. "Chief Baker has always had a gnat up his ass with me, and has decided that there are no pirates on the bay and that I made the whole thing up trying to get a nice insurance payoff."

"So," Kate begins, still smiling but her smile is not a friendly one. "That's my first question – and Mr. Marks, please understand, I don't give a shit if you are trying to squeeze some money out of your insurance company. Remember, I'm not here in any official capacity. I am simply looking for someone, and the information you can give me might help. If it does, then I will make you a happy man. If not, then you will never see me again."

"Fair enough," Marks smiles. This is going to be a good day.

"Who are you looking for, if you don't mind me asking?" he asks her, now sitting back, relaxing in the booth where they are waiting for their order.

"His name is Richard Castle," she tells him. "He is my fiancée and he has gone missing."

The change in demeanor, the quick look of terror that paints Peter Marks' face is one that completely surprises Kate Beckett. For a moment, she considers the wild – the absolutely absurd possibility that she has stumbled across someone associated with Castle's kidnapping. Pressing the issue, she reaches across the table, and taps her forefinger on his hand. It's a disarming gesture, and it works.

"So tell me, first of all – is your story true?"

"Every word of it!" Marks states, a little louder than expected.

"So you were enroute here to Norfolk when you boat was hijacked."

"I swear," Marks responds quickly.

His fears are somewhat founded, as Peter Marks – along with half of the country – has seen the CNN breaking news segment earlier this morning, re-capping the horrific findings in New York City from the previous day. Someone has gone on the offensive, tearing through the city, leaving mutilated corpses in his or her wake, a rampage with a singular mission: finding Richard Castle.

Kate, of course, has seen the news spots as well, and it has occurred to her that she could take advantage of this new development. No one knows – including Kate – who the assailant is, although she has a good hunch of who it might be. Hell, scratch that, she knows exactly who it is, and honestly had wondered when he would show. But outside the family of Richard Castle, no one has a clue who could be doing this. So her being in Norfolk, a day after this news breaks, the grieving and pissed off, jilted lover – yeah, she can make this play for her. She knows she has provided Mr. Peter Marks with dual incentive to help her out.

First, he wants the money, no question about it.

Second, he wonders if he is now sitting across the table from the source of the CNN breaking news. She certainly would have the motive, no question about that either. And she has a gun and a knife. Police detective or not, she has his attention.

Anxious to drag information out of the frightened man while she can, Kate begins her questioning.

"So, you had a cargo of lions you were transporting?"

"Yes, two of them – they were on the manifest, everything on the up and up."

"Why would someone want to steal two lions?"

"Hell, lady, I don't know if it was the lions they wanted, or just my boat," he tells her. "I mean, if you want to steal a lion, there's an easier way to do it."

"Perhaps," Kate gives him, nodding her head. "But I'm asking the questions, remember? I'm the one paying for answers."

"Right, right," Marks answers her and shudders as she touches his hand again, this time a little harder.

"So again, why would someone want to steal two lions?" she asks.

"I honestly don't know, God's honest truth," he tells her, and takes a deep breath, relieved when he sees her nod her head.

"I believe you, Mr. Marks," she tells him, and she passes another thousand dollar bill across the table – this time open for anyone looking to see. This is just in case she doesn't get what she needs from the boatman, then perhaps someone else will see her flashing money around and offer up information.

"So, tell me, where were you when you were attacked, when they took your boat?" she asks.

"We were just east of Gwynn Island, which is about seventy miles or so north of here, straight up the bay," he replies. "We were cruising close to the shoreline – about a couple of miles off land – because we . . . well we were getting spooked with those two beasts making all that noise."

"Quick entry to the shore in case something went wrong?" she asks.

"Yeah, and I gotta tell you, we were this close to turning for land, all right, "he tells her, holding his fingers less than an inch apart. "But then this other smaller boat came up out of nowhere. It was my fault, like I told the cops, because I was more focused on the shoreline and those crazy animals. And my crew was just as spooked."

Kate nods, considering the story. It does have a ring of truth to it, a ring of validity.

"So what happened then?" she asks, slowly reaching into her purse. Another thousand dollar bill finds its way into her hand.

"They had machine guns, and the craft looked kind of military and all, so we weren't sure what was going on. But they boarded quickly, and told us 'no hard feelings' and tossed us overboard. Threw the life raft in first, thankfully. We swam to the raft, hopped in, and paddled our asses off until we got to shore."

"Did they say anything that you can remember, other than 'no hard feelings'," Kate asks, this time taking the bill and tapping her finger on the man's hand simultaneously. "This is very important, Mr. Marks, so take your time."

"I already told the cops and the insurance guys – we heard one guy say 'three hours to Tangier', or something like that as they took off," Marks tells her. "Another guy said 'yeah, we gotta hurry'. But I already told the cops this, and they went to Tangier and searched high and low – but no boat. No one claims to have seen my boat. But I know what I heard and –"

"You are certain they said Tangier?"

"Yeah, short for the Tangier Islands up north – a little over a hundred miles north of us, and a little east. They are a series of islands – not well populated. Some tourists hang out there, and there is a cool little culture there that is dying off. But they have some remote little islands there also."

"But you said they didn't find the lions or your boat," Kate asks, wanting a clarification.

"Hell, lady, I don't know about the damn lions, and don't care," Marks replies, finding a bit of courage. "I just wanted my boat back. I didn't ask them to look for any lions. How do you think that is gonna work? They're just going to walk into a little tourist shop there and ask people if they've seen a couple of missing lions?"

Despite herself, Kate has to chuckle at the man and his renewed courage. She reaches into her purse and grabs a few more thousand dollar bills and pushes them across the table.

"Mr. Marks, I'm not going to share our conversation with anyone – I promise you. I simply ask the same courtesy from you. I wasn't here, you have never met me. But if what you have told me is true, well, I think I will be able to help your insurance company see the light. Agreed?"

"Lady, get me my boat back and you can –"

"Are we in agreement, Mr. Mark?" she says more forcefully, now applying pressure to the man's hand, causing a yelp to escape from his lips.

"Yes! Yes!" he almost screams.

"Thank you, Mr. Marks – I will do what I can. I appreciate the information."

With that, Kate stands up and begins to walk out of the small café when the waitress stops her.

"Your pie, miss?" the waitress says, holding the apple pie that she had ordered.

"It's for the gentleman in the booth," Kate smiles, pointing back at Peter Marks as she walks through the glass doors. It's a great morning. She finally has a spot to investigate – and she recognizes the name as one of the islands they found during their computer search two days ago. She hops in the rental car and puts the car in motion, heading for the airport. She glances down at her purse, smiling as she knows she has more than enough cash in there to prompt someone to fly her up the bay to the Tangier Islands.

Day 10: At Richard Castle's Loft in New York City, at 11:45 a.m.

Martha Rodgers walks slowly to the door, the doorbell having already rung twice. She idly wonders who would be calling on them. Alexis is in the den, conducting computer searches for Kate, who has just called less than half an hour ago.

She glances through the peephole and sighs. Opening the door, she puts her standard Martha Rodgers happy face on for Captain Victoria Gates.

"Hello Captain Gates," she says cheerily, "what can I do for you?"

All business, as usual, the Captain gets right to the point.

"Is Detective Beckett here, Ms. Rodgers?" the Captain asks.

"No she is not," Martha replies, just as Alexis walks out of the den. Hearing and recognizing the Captain's voice, Alexis is wondering if there is any news.

"Do you know where she is?" Captain Gates asks, and something in her voice, something in her tone puts both redheads on guard.

"No," Alexis answers quickly. "She said she was headed out of town. Wanted to check on something related to my dad."

"When will she be returning?" Gates asks, glancing from woman to woman.

"She didn't say," Martha replies affably. "It's been ten days and we are no closer to finding Richard now than we were ten days ago. Kate is taking things into her own hands, now."

"That's what I am afraid of," Gates tells her, her tone clearly giving them a warning. "That's what a number of people are afraid of."

"What are you talking about?" Alexis asks, her hands on her hips in defiance.

"I'm talking about the mass mutilations, the murders that are all over the news – murders I know both of you have to have heard about," Gates says, now all pretense of civility gone from her voice.

"You think Kate did this?" Martha asks incredulously.

"Geez, no wonder you haven't found my father!" Alexis notes, her voice rising now. "My dad goes missing and –"

"Alexis," Gates interrupts, "You have to understand how it looks, and right now, looks are everything. Detective Beckett goes on a leave of absence – which I encouraged. A day later, bodies start piling up, mass killings start. And Kate is nowhere to be found? Out of town?"

"Captain Gates, I will thank you to leave our home this very instant," an indignant Martha Rodgers replies, hostility clearing showing.

Knowing she will get nowhere with the older woman, the Captain walks toward the door, but with parting words for Alexis.

"Alexis – I know you and Kate are close. All I need to know is where she is, where she was yesterday – and I can clear this whole mess up."

"I don't know where she is," Alexis lies, offering the Captain a friendly smile as she walks her to the door. "But when I hear from her, I will give her your message."

With that, the younger woman shuts the door in the face of the NYPD 12th Precinct Captain, whose mouth is left agape.

"Well that could have gone better," the police captain mutters to herself as she walks toward the elevator.

Day 10: The New York Federal Penitentiary, at 3:05 p.m.

Senator William Bracken sits at the table, two armed guards behind him. The bright orange prison suit fits large on him, as he has found prison food . . . distasteful during his incarceration as he awaits trial. His preliminary hearing is in five days. They have – to his mind – come up with a credible defense. If, that is, everything is working.

Elizabeth Bracken walks into the visiting room and sits across from her husband. An additional guard is now in the room with the couple.

"How are you, Will?" she asks him, taking in his somewhat haggard appearance. She has never seen him look like this, and her heart goes out to the man she has called husband for as long as she can remember adult life.

"Can't take it much longer in here, Liz," he tells her honestly.

"I know," she replies softly.

"They, for the most part, keep me in solitary confinement away from everyone," he tells her. "Evidently, for my own protection, they say. Seems being a U.S. Senator still counts for something here. I get some time in the yard, but these guys . . . these guys are animals, Liz. They carry -"

"You have only five days left here, my love," she tells him with a smile, interrupting his rant.

"What, are you busting me out?" he half laughs, spitting the words out with more venom than he intends.

"I'm sorry Liz, I didn't mean that. It's just –"

"I know what it is, Will," she interrupts, her eyes telling him he has nothing to worry about. "And no, I am not busting you out. Trust me, in five days, you will walk out the front door a free man, my love."

"How?" he asks, with exasperation. He wants out of here. He needs to see the sky, fresh air, a clean suit, a good meal, a night of sweet sex. Simple pleasures in life he had grown to take for granted.

"You leave that to me," she replies softly. "You did marry me for more than just my good looks, you know."

"I miss those looks right now," he whispers to her, and she simply smiles.

"Five days, my love," and she rises to leave, but takes her fingers to her lips and places a kiss on them for her husband.

"Five days, and you will see us no more," she tells the guards with a smile that – now with her back turned to her husband – has turned decidedly sinister.

Through the doors and out into the fresh air, she walks toward her car, smiling. She bends to get into the front seat, and closes the door. Starting the engine, she smiles broadly, talking out loud.

"Kate misses those looks also, now my love. And Mr. Castle is confined in solitary, just like you. He is behind bars, just like you. He is eating horrific food, just like you. He is caged with beasts, just like you, my love. He is watching beasts kill and feast in the yard, just like you."

She pulls into traffic, with a glance in her rear-view mirror.

"And he will stay there until you are free," she says with a smile. "Five more days, my love," she whispers, then hits the accelerator as she speaks a voice command into the car's Bluetooth system.

"Call Rodney Simmons."