One of Us – Chapter 26 – Cleaning House
Previously – Kate has bared her soul to Rick. Still recovering from his injuries and surgery Rick will need a time out responding. Meanwhile…
Disclaimer – even in my wildest dreams I don't own Castle or any of the characters. If I did, you'd see way more than primetime TV allows!
All the other legal stuff applies too.
WARNING SWEARING AHEAD
Bellevue Intensive Care Unit, Sunday 1.58 pm
They have been silent for a few minutes, enjoying each other's proximity but Kate is also aware that Rick is flagging. She glances down at her watch and realised that they have been in here for almost an hour. The intensity of her confession and purging of many of her more personal thoughts had made it seem like longer.
Kate is aware that Rick has managed to stay awake for a little bit longer but he is clearly in need of a break. Her thoughts are interrupted by the man himself.
"Kate." She turns her body towards him and engages his eyes. She is rewarded by his dancing blue eyes piercing her soul.
"Thank you for your honesty. You didn't have to do it for me." He pauses and looks directly at her, into her.
"I love you. I trust you. Your actions and words before now are more than enough. But I am honoured to be trusted with so much of your being.
"You remember how I told you that you are a mystery I will never solve. Even after today, especially after today, there are so many more layers of the Beckett onion to peel.
"I want to reciprocate. Need to be honest with you about my past. Have my own confessions. Good for the soul you know? But I need a nap before I will be able to respond."
Kate nods and squeezes his hand.
"I'll be here waiting. Always."
Rick acknowledges with smile and closes his eyes. It takes less than a minute before he is asleep.
She dare not step outside the room or even open the door. So she pulls out her phone, and taps a message.
Lanie Parish is standing guard outside the door to Castle's ICU room. The sentinels from the 12th has been sent for lunch at the hotel in no uncertain terms, and Kate's partners have the duty at the ICU entrance. Whilst many officers would question the authority of a medical examiner, none from the 12th are willing to take a chance with Doctor Parish, especially is respect of who her best friend was.
She's been here more than an hour.
Despite the glass behind her, she hasn't turned round once. Her best friend had entrusted her with this sacred task, and she would fulfil it. Over all the years she has known Kate Beckett, she has never known Kate to be as happy as she had been in the last six months. On learning Kate's tale, Lanie has surprised herself and Kate by simply absorbing it and carrying on as before. Somehow it has been right, and whilst over the years, she had learnt things from Kate as she slowly shared, she knows that her knowledge is a faction of what the man inside that room knows about Kate Beckett and her demons.
Her phone beeps and there is a message from Kate. Frowning in surprise at why she is being messaged by someone less than 5 yards away, she swipes and quickly reads the message.
The timing is right as just that minute Martha and Alexis have returned from wherever they had gone to when dismissed from the room.
Lanie rises from her seat and steps across the door, crossing her arms in her best bodyguard impersonation. Her body language of 'No Entrance' does not go unnoticed by the approaching duo.
"Oh My" Martha's eyes go wide in understanding, and she takes Alexis by the elbow and commences to steer her into as graceful a turn as possible.
"Come along Alexis, your Father and Kate need some more time"
"But Grams" Alexis protests.
"I'm sure Doctor Parish will let us know when it is appropriate to return" Martha cuts off her granddaughter and turns and winks back at Lanie.
Eric M. Taylor Center, Rikers Island, Sunday 2.15 pm
Leaving the food hall, Leroy Herron was a very nervous man.
Not because of his legal situation. He knew he had little to offer the DA, and accordingly was facing a long harsh sentence. More importantly he was too junior to rate his own attorney from the Family. He knew nothing of value to be of value to the DA or a threat to the Family.
However, none of this was the reason for his enhanced state of anxiety.
He had been moved so quickly into general populace at Rikers without so much as an assessment or check. A veteran of previous stays more than once in more than one of the ten jails on the Island, he knew how the process worked. His treatment this time wasn't typical but nor was it special. Non routine without reason made experienced men nervous. Herron was now very nervous.
After being charged by the cops at the 12th Precinct, he had been transferred to the Manhattan Detention Complex better known as The Tombs but his stay had been extremely brief - less than four hours on a Saturday afternoon. Nothing happened on a Saturday afternoon for the Department of Corrections. Yet the same day he found himself on the way to 'The Boat' in the Bronx.
So Saturday night, he was the sole overnight occupant of a shared a cell on the floating jail known as 'The Boat' less of a mouthful than the official title - the Vernon C. Bain Correctional Center. Before he could even settle he was picked up again and shunted to Riker's proper early Sunday morning straight after the first breakfast call. Just like Saturday afternoons, nothing happened on a Sunday morning for the Department of Corrections, and yet he had found himself on a van to the Island. Administrative error he had been told.
Now he classified himself as officially freaking nervous and not a little scared.
The ride from the Bronx and round the bay was long and it was some time before they were across the bridge to the Island. All the way it had been eerily silent. He had shared the Corrections van with 2 others who had not said a thing. This was not uncommon, and he had learnt on previous stays to keep his mouth shut. He knew how to survive in the system, and avoid the gangs, and definitely to not owe anyone shit.
He didn't know much regarding the Silva family and he had never said anything to the cops or the DA. On the face of it, he should be safe but he didn't feel it.
Returning to his bunk in one of the large dorm areas, he did his best to relax and let prison life float by. Previous stays had taught the one truth – doing time meant just that.
Gates Residence, 2.30 pm
One of the few privileges worth enjoying as the Homicide Captain in the NYPD was the higher than average chance (for a cop) of being at home on a Sunday. And so it had come to be in the Gates Residence, that Sundays were a day for going slow.
A big part of Slow Sundays was the late brunch. A fixture through the kids' teenage years, it has been a tad happen-stance affair after both had left home to stay in dorms at NYU. Never-the-less when David and Victoria could they sat down together late Sunday mornings for brunch. The menu options were never fixed and frequently seasonal or sometimes simply pot luck from the larder.
After the last week, Victoria Gates was happy to be nestled into a comfortable recliner with a book waiting for the brunch to settle. Her husband was opposite her in his own favourite recliner, pretending to read the paper. She was happy to indulge him his little charade. He was almost as transparent as Richard Castle. She was tempted to roll her eyes, but this would give her away. Plus David not so secretly loved her eye roll. She had notice Beckett using the same expression numerous times.
She had to admit that Beckett and Castle made an uncanny team. Their unique partnership obviously had very personal bonds, so much so that she assumed that the two had or were sleeping together not long after she arrived to replace Roy. She had been surprised to learn that they weren't and also of the numerous pools circulating regarding their prospects.
There was a noise from upstairs, and initially alert she settled back down as she remembered their brunch 'guests'. Their two children – Natasha and Francis – had come over and joined them. She suspected her husband had 'policed' them up to attend. Now just like their teenage years they had retreated upstairs once the table was cleared.
She had been more than a little surprised to find David's daughter, Serena, from his previous marriage there as well. Serena was very much an independent spirit and had floated between her mother and their home throughout her teenage years. Now approaching thirty, Serena was an analyst for a government agency. Details beyond that were hazy and after more than two decades of inconclusive fencing, were likely to stay that way. Serena was outside having a cigarette. She must have taken it up again despite giving up 'for good' almost a decade ago. She wondered if her job was stressful and if the smoking was method of tension management.
David Reynolds was watching his wife of 24 years as she read. He was well aware she knew he was watching but it was a familiar, comfortable game between them. As a cop, his wife was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.
He loved Sundays with his family. But he missed his longer running Sunday vice and his absent friend. Last played some 18 months ago before Roy was killed, their Sunday morning dawn golf was the stuff of legend, having started when they were in services. Both were middling to awful but didn't care. Vicky had indulged him, well both of them. She said she considered it a small price to pay for the introduction all those years ago.
O'Sullivan's Cake & Coffee, 2.45 pm
Martha guided Alexis into the shop. They had narrowly avoided a pair of photographers when exiting the hospital.
"Gram why are we here?"
"Did you really want to go shopping again? You didn't buy anything this morning and barely ate lunch."
Alexis shakes her head and lets her Gram guide her towards a booth at the rear of the shop. It is already occupied but Martha goes ahead and slides in opposite the occupant.
Sitting in the booth was Jim Beckett, Kate's dad.
"Oh Hello Mr Beckett" Alexis blurts out, years of good manners instilled by her dad and grandmother, instinctively guiding her greeting and handshake.
He takes her hand and shakes it whilst correcting her. "I'd really prefer if you called me Jim. Being called Mr Beckett gets me on edge. A bit like someone is going to ask to marry my daughter." There is a light in his eyes and he is teasing her. Martha is laughing and Alexis smiles but can't but help think how her dad would react to such as pronouncement.
"Gram?" Alexis reaches across to touch the elder red head. "Gram, have you been meeting with Jim behind their backs? Dad you can handle but Detective Beckett can be scary. They won't like this."
"Pish. I know what I'm doing." Alexis rolls her eyes in response to Martha's dismissal of the matter.
"One of the responsibilities of parenthood is making sure that your children don't screw up too badly. Heaven knows how complicated Kate and your father make things. Jim and I have simply trying to un-complicate things.
Alexis' phone beeps with an incoming text message. Barely glancing down she swipes and reads. Her face drops and she mutters something under breath.
"Alexis?! Is everything okay?"
"I forgot to call mom last night."
"Oh. And?"
"According to her text she's just landed at JFK and wants a town car to take her to the Loft."
"Oh damnation, that harpy isn't staying there." This from Martha. Alexis nods visualizing a confrontation between her mom and Kate.
"That isn't good I take it?" This from Jim Beckett, the only member of the party yet to experience the delights of Meredith.
"I'll call Eduardo and ensure he know they are not to let her up unannounced and definitely not into the Loft."
At this moment, Martha's phone rings. Caller id flashes 'Paula'.
"Hello dear." Martha greets her and listens as the agent strident and noticeably elevated tone delivers quick fire sentences down the line.
"She WHAT? What on earth made her think she had any right? Oh hang on I said 'think' didn't I?"
"Right damage control is the order of the day. We'll head back out to the hospital. Richard and Kate will need to be told."
Hanging up the showbiz Diva looks at her shell-shocked audience of two. She looks fairly shaken too.
"Your mother held an impromptu press conference at the airport surrounded by what looked like enough baggage for months."
Alexis felt her heart sink and a headache and possible heartache come on.
Jim simply looked shocked.
"She" Martha practically spat the word out as her eyes flashed.
"She announced that in light of the NYPD's inability to protect her husband, she is temporarily moving back to New York, abandoning her career, to care for him and his daughter.
"FUCK!"
This time it is Jim and Martha's turn to look shocked. Alexis Castle had dropped the f-bomb and looks set to follow through, when Jim chooses that moment to speak.
"I have to agree with Alexis' accurate summation." He grins.
"Kate is going to kill her. She won't even need her gun, I imagine her little finger should be enough."
"Do you think we can sell tickets?" Jim asks. He does deadpan extremely well.
Noting Jim's coffee on the table, Martha reaches into her handbag and pulls a couple of notes from her purse, waving away Jim's attempts to reach for his wallet.
"Nonsense, you're not paying. I'll apologize to the waitress and we'll call a cab and get back to the hospital. Meredith can wait at the airport for all I care. At least until we have told your father and Kate."
Toilet Block 4A, Eric M. Taylor Center, Rikers Island, Sunday 3.18 pm
Leroy Herron was about to die. Or rather be killed. Murdered. To silence him, most likely on the orders of the Silva Family. Even though he knew jack-shit. He wished he'd listened to his gut instinct on this one. Too late now.
Strangely enough, he was relatively calm about it. There was nothing he could do. He was going to go down fighting.
Across the room, six men advance towards him each wielding a dangerous homemade weapon. This wasn't going to take long.
Gates Residence 4.08 pm
With the kids departed, any hope of ending their lazy Sunday with some alone time, is dashed when her phone rings. Caller ID blocked.
"Gates."
"Sir." A pause.
"I'm listening."
"Very good. I'll get my team together and increase security for the Castles and Detective Beckett as well. I'll be ready for the FBI. Good Afternoon Sir."
David looks at her in question. He is used to her short, terse answers when stressed.
"Chief of D's. Someone's cleaning house. The first shooter, Herron, and the victim Jussic have both been killed in the last hour. Two cops guarding Jussic were injured, one badly."
"We're increasing security for the Castles and Detective Beckett."
"I need to get dressed and head in."
She walks over to her husband and leans down to kiss first his forehead and then his lips.
"Be safe Vicky."
Downtown Manhattan. 4.27 pm.
Barely pausing the limo had collected its single passenger and pulled smoothly away for the curb without even disrupting the traffic flow.
Inside and surrounding the car, electronic surveillance counter measures better than anything the US government outside of the NSA were in action. The full triple crown of detectors, jammers and a white noise generator.
The passenger settles into the seat opposite the two other occupants.
A slim hard is extended and the late middle-age man takes it and shakes it reverently. Their discussion however is entirely businesslike to the point of terseness.
"Is it done?"
"Yes. Confirmed." The passenger is renowned for his direct nature both with an economy of words and in his application of violence.
"Good."
"What about the cops and the Writer?" The passenger wonders what options are on the table.
"Don't matter. This was a side show with little at stake. We need not concern ourselves with them. We will provide surety another way."
"Si."
The slim hand presses the intercom button. "Per favore." Two small words convey instruction enough and the limo glides into the curb.
The passenger nods his head and takes his leave.
"A domani!"
Author's Note –Thank you for all the reviews, feedback and messages.
Firstly to all those of you expecting/hoping for Rick's response to the Kate's baring of her soul. This isn't it. Sorry.
I am away at Karate camp for the next four days – so no updates at the weekend - and I didn't have time to complete the planned chapter to my satisfaction. So ….
Apparently this show is part crime procedural. Voila a chapter involving crime. It also has some plot elements. So please pay attention class.
Also as this is a T rating I will be including some swear words to add to the reality of the character dialog.
Thank you for your ongoing interest and support.