Chapter 36
The Case of Little Girl Lost
Part 4
We arrived at the Candela's apartment and assembled in their living room. A security guard had just delivered the ransom money the kidnappers were demanding. The FBI Tech lady briefed Sorenson and the rest of us.
"They asked for seventy-five packs of hundreds, randomised serial numbers and warned against bait money, dye packs and trackers." FBI Tech lady said.
"Sounds like they know your play book." I remarked.
"They were detailed, down to the make and colour of the backpack." FBI Tech lady said, holding up a grey green backpack.
"Drop instructions?" Beckett asked.
"We wait for their call."
"All right." Sorenson announced, taking command of the situation. He looked at FBI Tech lady. "Let's get the money set and be ready to make the drop."
Alfred was standing in the doorway of his studio started frowning.
"But they didn't tell us where to bring the money." He said.
"They're testing you." Beckett informed him. "It's not unusual."
"Which means, before we make the drop, we'll need to test them." Sorenson added. "We'll need proof they have Angela and that she's okay."
"What if they don't give any, what if they refuse?" Alfred countered.
Theresa, who had been standing in front of Alfred rounded on him.
"How can you think that?" She said angrily.
"I'm just saying..."
"You think she's dead."
"No. Of course not." Alfred said, looking stunned by his wife's outburst.
"I should've have gotten up. I shouldn't have let you watch her!" Theresa shouted angrily and tearfully.
"Don't say that."
"Don't tell me what to say!" Theresa screamed. "Tell me, Alfred, was it worth it."
Theresa pointed to the canvas her husband had been throwing paint at. Looking around she grabbed a large vase, hurling it at the painting. The vase smashed against the painting.
"Was it worth our little girl?" Theresa sobbed. "Oh my God."
Theresa stormed off. Alfred looked pale, stunned by his wife's outburst. His eyes swept the room taking the rest of us who had witnessed it. He tried not to look embarrassed as he turned and into his studio to survey the damage the vase had caused.
I could not help but feel for both parents, what terrors they were going through right now and feeling helpless, not knowing what to say to them, unable to help them get their little girl home.
Beckett made her way across the living room to where Theresa was standing. I may not have not known what to say but Beckett knew just what to say, and how to say it.
"Mrs Candela...Theresa...you can't give into your fear." Beckett said in a gentle tone. "Neither you nor your husband is responsible for what has happened."
Theresa slowly nodded her head.
The Candela's phone started ringing. Suddenly the living room and the people in it became energised. Beckett drew Theresa to the table. Alfred turned away from surveying his damaged painting and stared at the table. Theresa sat down.
"Remember, no proof, no money." Sorenson reminded Theresa. "We have to be firm on that."
Theresa nodded her head in understanding and then wiped away the tears from her eyes.
"Okay, here we go." Sorenson said.
Theresa picked up the phone and answered the call.
"Listen carefully." Said asthmatic Darth Vader. "Any deviation and your daughter dies."
"I understand." Theresa said in a firm voice.
"A civilian, not a cop, must make the drop or we kill the girl. We see police or FBI and she dies." Asthmatic Darth Vader instructed. "You have the money?"
"Yes. 750, like you said."
Then asthmatic Darth Vader instructed that the money be placed in the backpack and to take it to the northeast corner of 1st Avenue and 47th. There was a mailbox there and taped underneath it was a cell phone. They would then text further instructions once the cell phone was retrieved. Asthmatic Darth Vader added that when they had the money, then they would call with Angela's location.
"Ask for proof that Anela is okay." Beckett whispered to Theresa.
"You wont get any money until I know my little girl is okay." Theresa said.
For what felt like an eternity, at least that is what it felt to me, there was silence on the other side of the line except for static. Then there was a little girl's voice calling out 'mama.'
"Hi sweetheart." Theresa said
Then little Angela was gone and asthmatic Darth Vader was back on the line.
"You have one hour."
Then there was a loud click as the call ended.
XXX
After the call Sorenson drew Beckett over to his mini command post, an area off the living room where a small couch, a couple of chairs and a coffee table had been set up. Sorenson had his laptop open and he had a detailed map of the area around 1st Avenue and 47th, and was quickly studying it. As he was doing that, FBI Tech lady came in and deposited the now full backpack on the coffee table and withdrew.
"Once they get paid, there's no incentive to keep her alive." Sorenson said in a low voice. "So, I'll make the drop. Figure we'll place our people at a one block radius from the mailbox."
"No. They said no cops." Alfred said in a firm tone.
Alfred's sudden appearance startled all three of us. Sorenson slowly turned to look up at the worried looking father.
"It's okay." He assured him. "I've done this before. They won't know I'm a FBI agent."
"And if they do?" Alfred questioned.
"Mr Candela, we need this to go as smoothly as possible." Beckett said.
"She's my daughter and we're going to follow their instructions to the letter." Alfred said as he struggled with his anger. "They said no cops. Look, I'm her father and I can do this. Do I make myself clear?"
Sorenson did not argue with Alfred. He merely nodded his head in response. Alfred turned and left the room. Sorenson turned to look at Beckett.
"No way we can send the father." He told her. "Too many things could go wrong. He's too emotional."
My eyes had fallen to the bulging backpack sitting on the coffee table and a thought came to me.
"What choice do we have?" Beckett said.
"Me." I announced.
Beckett turned around, shooting a quizzical look in my direction.
"What?"
"I'm not a cop." I pointed out. "I'm certainly not emotional."
Well, that last bit may not be totally true. I have been known to get a little emotional from time to time under certain circumstances but they did not need to know that.
"No. Absolutely not." Sorenson said emphatically.
"The NYPD already has a signed waiver from me. And, I hate saying this, but you're running out of time." I put forward in pleading my case.
Beckett had turned back to look at Sorenson.
"He's right." She said.
"You can't be serious." Sorenson look incredulous.
"He's been with me on cases before." Beckett told him. "He's good under pressure, and he's our best shot."
Was I hearing things? Did I really just hear Detective Kate Beckett lauding my abilities? I had been preparing to fight my case, to convince Agent Chisel Chin that I was their best hope and in the blink of an eye, Beckett had stepped in and backed me up. Not only backed me up but had gone out on a limb and said that I was their best hope. I could not believe it. Who says Christmas doesn't come early?
Sorenson paused to think about it and came to the realisation that he had no alternative. Alfred Candela would have kicked up a stink to high heaven if a cop or agent did the drop and I was the only civilian on hand who could do the job. With reluctance, great reluctance, he gave his approval to this plan.
He rose to his feet and said he was going to speak to Alfred about the change of plan while he sent Beckett and me to the bed room with FBI Tech lady—if you're expecting some lurid adolescent joke about me and two ladies in a bedroom, well you will be waiting for a long time. This was not the time for such jokes.
Beckett was pacing the floor of the bedroom while FBI Tech lady was wiring me up. When she was nearly finished Beckett stopped her pacing and turned to look at me.
"Okay, so this is usually the part where I ask if you've thought this through, and then I remembered you don't think things through." Beckett said with a suggestion of a smile on her lips.
FBI Tech lady had her hands under my shirt.
"Cold hands, cold hands." I gasped.
"These people are dangerous, Castle." Beckett said sternly. "You need to stay alert and focused."
"Alert and focused, got it." I replied.
I let out another gasp as FBI Tech lady put her hands under my shirt again.
"Maybe if you...maybe if you just rub them together for a second." I suggested to FBI Tech lady. FBI Tech lady smiled and shook her head but continued working.
Alright I will admit I was playing up a little bit.
"Wait, alert and what?" I asked Beckett.
Beckett shot me a frown.
"You're good to go." FBI Tech lady announced.
"Thanks." I said and started doing up the buttons of my shirt.
When I finished buttoning up my shirt I looked up and saw Beckett staring at me. There was a look of real concern on her face. I did not know whether to be surprised or touched that she was showing concern for my welfare. I took a punt on the latter.
"Hey, it's going to be okay." I assured her.
Beckett nodded her head. She bit on her lip a moment before she spoke again.
"Look, about last night...what happened in the kitchen, I...I...just..."
"Oh, listen, you don't need to explain, that..."
"I don't?"
"Unless you want to."
"Uh, no, you know, I just figured for the character, for Nikki Heat." Beckett said hesitantly.
"I think I understand Nikki better than you think I do." I replied.
Beckett nodded her head again.
"Be careful, okay?" She said in a low voice.
"Do I detect actual concern for my well being?" I smiled.
Beckett took a step towards me. "Screw this up and I'll kill you." She said.
"That's more like it." I chuckled.
Beckett led me out of the bedroom. She will deny it till she is blue in the face but there was definitely a note of genuine concern for what I was about to do. I saw it in her hazel eyes and I heard it in her tone of voice. Rather than having an awkward moment between us I resorted to humour. And once again Beckett took the out I offered her.
XXX
I had been deposited on the street by a sunglasses wearing FBI agent. Agent Chisel Chin was adamant that one of his people deliver me rather than Esposito or Ryan. I don't exactly know why he had insisted on this, he never explained properly, other than to say that this was his case and we'd be doing it his way. Okay Mr Sinatra, whatever you say, I had thought to myself at the time.
I hoisted the backpack over one shoulder and started walking along 1st Avenue and slowly blended into the passing pedestrians. I knew somewhere in amongst the people behind me was either Esposito or Ryan, or both, shadowing me, and elsewhere there were FBI agents keeping watch.
I could not help feeling a little excited as I walked. I could not help but feel like I was a spy who was being followed by enemy spies. My eyes casually swept the street ahead of me looking for anyone who might be the kidnapper, or one of the kidnappers but to my disappointment they all seemed to be your typical New Yorkers, no one looked like a kidnapper. It might have helped if some one was wearing a t-shirt with the words 'Kidnapper' emblazoned across the front but that would be asking for too much. I wondered what one of my heroes would have done in a situation like this. What would James Bond do? I quickly realised that Bond would not lower himself to do such a menial task like this. No, he would have left donkey work like this to one of the endless flunkeys and superspy-wannabes that fictional spy movies seem to have in droves.
As I neared the corner of 1st Avenue and 47th Street I spotted the mailbox near the corner. All thoughts of what James Bond would do in such a situation flew out of my head as I told myself to concentrate. Nothing could sober me up quicker than to remind myself that a little girl's life was at stake.
"Okay, I have eyes on the target. Over." I reported as I slowed my approach. "Are you reading me?"
"We don't have to read you, we can see you. Now shut up and focus." Beckett's irritated voice crackled in my earpiece.
"Roger that, five by five." I replied.
I cast a look down the street and spotted the unmarked Crown Victoria with Sorenson behind the wheel and Beckett sitting in the passenger seat. Before turning my attention to the mailbox I saw that they both looked pensive as they spoke. I had a sudden wish to have been a fly on the ceiling just to listen in on what they were talking about. I had this burning sensation around my ears. Surely they weren't talking about me?
I reached the mailbox and did a quick look around to see if there was anyone taking a particular interest in the mailbox. I did not spot anyone, except for Esposito and Ryan who were hanging back near the corner.
Bending down I reached under the mailbox and felt around. My fingers found the taped phone.
"I feel like Michael finding the gun behind the toilet." I remarked.
I gave it a tug and the phone came away from underneath the mailbox. As I straightened up, the phone pinged, announcing the arrival of a message. I pulled off the tape that remained and called up the incoming message. I did a quick around.
"Uh, you might want to tell Ryan and Esposito to hang back." I said. "They just sent a text. It says 'we're watching you'."
"Could be just a rouse." Sorenson's voice said.
The phone in my hand pinged again.
"Nope. They just sent another one. It says 'You're wearing a black raincoat.'" I reported.
"Okay, so they can see you. It doesn't change anything." Beckett told me firmly.
My fingers quickly typed up the message: "U GUYS MAKING OUT?" and sent it to Beckett's phone. Nobody said that I could not mess with them. Risking a look in their direction I was pleased to see Beckett shaking her head. I could imagine an eye roll going along with that head shake.
Another message arrived. I read the text.
"Okay, it says, 'Cross the street, and head west on East 47th." I reported.
I took a couple of steps and paused.
"That's left, right?" I asked.
"Right." Beckett responded.
"Right, right or right, left?"
"Left!" Beckett and Sorenson shouted in unison. Loudly. Very loudly.
I could not help the small smile that rose on my lips as I contemplated whether I had permanent damage to my right ear as a result of their shouting. That time I could not help myself.
Carefully I crossed the street, managing to dodge a car or two, and a taxi and reached the other side. It would not have been all that good if I had gotten run down by a car. Just as I did the phone in my hand pinged once more. I glanced down at the phone.
"1201 1st." I informed them. "That's just ahead."
Before setting off to the destination the kidnappers had texted I did a quick look around to see if I could spot the kidnappers. No sign of them, they were well hidden from what I could see, or should that be couldn't see? I did spot Ryan and Esposito standing on the corner on the other side of the street.
I set off down the street, having to remind myself to not to run, just walk normally, casually. I was just an ordinary New Yorker out and about. Yeah right, an ordinary New Yorker. How many ordinary New Yorkers walk around with $750,000 in their backpacks? It was a little unnerving to have so many eyes on you, one set or maybe more than one set belonging to the kidnappers.
Just as I arrived at 1201 1st Avenue, I received another message from the kidnappers. I called it up as I entered the lobby of the building. It was a large lobby of what looked like polished ganite and steel. If I had the time I would have given it a closer inspection. What I did notice was there were a lot of people in the lobby, moving about.
"They want me to leave the bag at the shoeshine stand and then exit out the side." I reported.
It took me a couple of moments to locate the shoe shine stand and then I made my way to it, coming to stand by the side of the stand. A business man was sitting in one of the chairs on the stand reading a newspaper having his expensive black Oxfords shined. Both the business man nor the shoe shine guy took any notice of me.
"Alright I'm at the stand." I announced.
"Castle, leave the bag." Beckett said. "Make the drop and walk away."
I unslung the backpack and set it against the stand. I took one final look at my immediate surrounds and then set off for the side exit.
"I just left it, I'm heading out." I reported.
As I walked away I continued to swept the lobby around me, hoping to catch sight of one of the kidnappers. Unfortunately I did not see any one. I exited from the building and a moment later I was picked up by the FBI guy that had dropped me off.
XXX
I did not get to personally witness the fun and games that ensued just mere moments after I had walked out. I heard all about it from the boys themselves. Esposito and Ryan had followed me into the lobby of the building and made for the shoe shine stand. They were half way there when Ryan spotted a guy carrying the backpack. Esposito threw a flying tackle on the guy bringing him down. He opened the bag only to find that it contained nothing but rolled up newspapers.
As Esposito was lifting his head to look at the his partner, he spotted another guy with the same gren-grey coloured backpack. At Esposito's shout Ryan ran for the guy. He had gone barely a couple of yards when he pulled up short. He stared dumbfound as he took in the sight of many people walking through the lobby of the building all carrying the same green-grey coloured backpack.
A couple of hours later I found myself sitting in the Candela's living room. Beckett and Sorenson were there. Alfred and Theresa were sitting on a couch. There was a heavy tension in the air. The Candelas had just been advised of what had happened during the dropping off of the ransom money. There had been no emotional outbursts from either Alfred or Theresa but the anger was simmering very close to the surface though.
I have to say that they were taking this far better than I would, if I had been in their situation.
"The kidnappers posted an ad on Craigslist and said that this was a performance art piece for You Tube." Beckett advised.
"They sent out nearly two dozen of the backpacks." Sorenson added. "The poster used an IP anonymizer, making it impossible to trace."
"So we just do nothing?" Alfred said.
"Well, I managed to slip the phone that the kidnappers gave me into the backpack." I announced.
Theresa lifted her head and gave me a confused look. "I don't understand."
"Well, before I did that, I sent a message to Detective Beckett." I explained. What I had said in that message, Theresa did not need to know. Theresa frowned.
"The phone's under a bulk account so we can't trace its owner, but we can trace the ID."
I noticed Theresa put her head in her hands. A look of worry creasing her face.
"So far, we've pinged the phone to a twenty block radius on the Lower East Side." Sorenson said. He moved to the laptop sitting on the coffee table. He hit a key on the laptop and the on the screen there came a map of Manhattan with a shaded circle around the Lower East Side.
"We'll need another few hours to narrow it down." He added. "In the meantime, I moved a team into the area. They'll work the streets. Be ready to move when we have more information."
The Candelas accepted this information with stoicism. Looking at them I really felt for them. I wish I knew what to say to them. Funny isn't it? Here I was world famous writer and I could not think up the words to help them.
FBI Tech Lady tapped me on the shoulder and motioned me out of the room. I had forgotten I was still wearing some expensive government issue wiring equipment. I rose to my feet and followed her out of the room and to the bedroom where she proceeded to remove the wire. She still had cold hands but I was too deflated to make remark on it.
I was sitting on the bed as FBI Tech lady coiled up the wire I had been wearing when Beckett came into the room.
"Thanks." I said to FBI Tech lady.
"Mm-mmm." FBI Tech lady replied, gathered up her things and left the room.
Beckett came and sat down next to me on the bed. She notice my low mood.
"You okay?" She asked.
"I keep thinking, if only I saw who took the bag..."
After I had heard of the fiasco in the building's lobby I had started to chide myself for not being a little more observant. I kept thinking that if I had been more observant I probably would have seen the person who had taken the backpack that I had left by the shoe shine stand.
"Well, that was not your job." Beckett reminded me.
I knew that but I still thought I should have been more observant.
My gaze travelled across the room to the bureau where a framed picture of Angela Candela sat. I stared at the picture of a happy Angela clutching a stuffed white bunny.
"I can't imagine if anything like this ever happening to Alexis." I said in a low voice.
"Well get her back soon." Beckett said.
"Not as soon as we hoped." Sorenson announced.
Both Beckett and I turned to find a very unhappy looking Sorenson standing in the doorway of the bedroom.
"They must have found it and taken the batteries out." He said. "We just lost the signal from the phone."
XXX
Not being of any use to either the Candelas or Beckett I decided to head off home. Beckett did promise me to call if there were any new developments in the case. From the look on her face I got the feeling that there would not be any overnight.
After dinner I tried to write, working on the Nikki Heat novel but my heart nor mind was not fully in it. I discarded page after page that I had written to start again only delete what I had written. In the end I finally gave up trying to write and headed off to bed. However sleep proved to be elusive. Worrying about the fate of little Angela Candela kept me awake. I slept in fits and starts. Not even the steady patter of rain against the windows, normally a soothing sound, could assist me to get to sleep. Some time around three in the morning I gave up trying to sleep and got out of bed.
I wandered into my office and rather than sit by the window and watch the rain fall, which I sometimes like to do I picked up my laptop and sat down on the couch. I fired up the laptop and then called up the photos of the Candela apartment that I had taken with my phone. I scrolled through them slowly, studying them carefully, hoping to spot something that might give us a clue.
Sometime after four o'clock I heard a rustling in the doorway to the office. I didn't bother to look up because I knew who it was.
"Hey." Alexis said a little sleepily.
"Hey." I returned. "What are you doing up? Stressing about finals?"
"American Lit's today." Alexis explained. "I was having nightmares about Hester Prynne."
"Ah. The irony for you is, not getting an 'A' would cause you shame."
"So why are you up?" Alexis asked.
"Looking for a white rabbit." I replied.
"Lewis Carrol or The Matrix?" My well-read darling daughter inquired.
"I'm not sure yet." I murmured.
Alexis left her spot in the doorway and came over to the couch and sat down beside me. She peered over to see what was on the screen of the laptop.
"What did Beckett tell you about taking phone photos at the crime scene?" Alexis questioned.
"I don't know I wasn't listening." I replied.
After that episode with the hotel carpet Beckett had been quite adamant that I was not allowed to take photos of crime scenes, at least not without obtaining her permission first. Knowing that nine times out of ten her answer would be no, I chose not to ask her permission this time and took the photos anyway. Besides, I can't help it, I like getting a rise out of Beckett, it's one of my favourite sports.
I scrolled up a shot of Angela's bed that was covered with an assortment of stuffed animals of various shapes and sizes. I could not help but smile at the sight.
"See all the stuffed animals on the bed?" I said.
"Mm-mmm. It looks just like mine used to." Alexis said, smiling. "Remember when I had all those animals?"
The smile on my face grew deeper as the memories came flooding back.
"If by 'remember when' you mean Moneky-Bunkey—who has been washed so many times he looks like road kill now—then, yes."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Alexis said, schooling her face, like she was playing poker. I found it adorable.
"Oh, then you wont mind, next time I see him, if I throw him out." I remarked, as I turned back to the laptop.
Quick as a flash my darling daughter reached out and grabbed my ear, giving it a painful twist. If I had been half asleep moments ago, I was now wide awake thanks to that painful jolt.
"Don't you dare. Don't." Alexis warned.
"Ooow, I won't, I won't, I won't." I promised.
Alexis released my ear and settled back. I was given a most painful reminder of how much she was attached to Monkey-Bunkey even though she was a teenager.
"So you think the bunny has something to do with the case?" Alexis inquired, noticing the photo of Angela clutching her stuffed white bunny.
"Well, I'll let you know when I go down the rabbit hole." I replied.
Alexis left me to it and went back to bed. I continued to study the photos. A few minutes later I realised that in none of the crime scene photos was there a sign of the stuffed white rabbit. I went through the photos several times to make sure, and each time I could not find the stuffed white rabbit.
That sudden discovery had me scrambling to get dressed and not long after I was flying out the front door of the loft.
XXX
By the time I arrived at the Candela's apartment the rain has stopped leaving the streets shinning. The leaden sky was slowly lightening. The sun would not be too long from breaking through the cloud cover.
The uniform stationed at the front of the apartment nodded a greeting as he allowed me into the apartment. I saw Agent Chisel Chin standing in the kitchen reading some report or another. He might not have been one of my favourite people but I had to take my hat off to him he was not leaving any stone unturned from the looks of things and sleep was a luxury he could not afford at the moment.
I did not bother him, instead I made a beeline for Angela Candela's room. I paused at the open doorway. It was not all the toys and stuffed animals that were strewn all over the room, on the floor and on the bed that made me pause. It was the sight of Kate Beckett asleep in the rocking chair. For a moment or two I found I had difficulty in breathing.
In the soft light of the bedside night light she looked so beautiful. The tensions in her face so visible during her waking hours as we worked the case had vanished, the sharp lines of her face had softened in her repose. I found myself wondering what it would be like to wake up to that sight every morning. I have always enjoyed watching her, as I have said before it is one of my favourite hobbies. Yet this was a first, a different environment, a different situation. A situation when she was at her most vulnerable. I could have stood there and gazed at her for all eternity.
However, I did not have all eternity. And certainly little Angela did not have all eternity. I forced my self to remember the reason why I had come to the Candela apartment. I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the small flash light and switched it on. I lowered myself to my knees and crawled into the room, commencing my search for the stuff white bunny.
"Castle?" Came Beckett's sleepy voice.
I paused in my search of the floor and looked across to her. I had been trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake Beckett. I don't know how much sleep she had gotten in the past couple of days but I would be willing to bet it had not been much.
"Go back to sleep." I told her gently.
"What are you doing?"
So much for her listening to me. She looked adorable as she slowly came awake. I remained on my knees as I looked at her.
"When Alexis was little, she had a stuffed monkey that she could not live without." I told her. "One time we went on vacation, she forgot to pack him. I bought her another one, but she knew that it wasn't Monkey-Bunkey."
"So?"
Beckett frowned a little at what I had said. I wasn't sure if she was still half asleep and was witnessing the epilogue of whatever dream she had been having or it was an automatic reaction to whatever out of left field theory I was pitching.
"So..." I replied as I reached over and picked up a framed photo of Angela clutching her stuffed bunny and turned it so that she could see it. "There's two more pictures of her clutching this bunny out there." I said. "Where's the bunny?"
What ever remaining vestiges of sleep were suddenly gone from Beckett as she looked at me.
"You think whoever took Angela knew her well enough to take the bunny too?" She replied. I nodded my head. "But we already checked the Candela's list. Couple of teenage babysitters, a cleaning lady...They've all been cleared."
"Not all babysitters are teenagers. Sometimes they're people close to us." I pointed out. "Sometimes they're family."
I spoke from personal experience. Though I did not have to use all that many babysitter services when raising Alexis, there had been a few times, and when the babysitters were not available, Mother would step in to help out when she could.
Beckett suddenly was looking very alert.
"When did we lose the signal on the phone?" I asked.
"Right after we told the Candelas we were tracking it." Beckett replied.
Beckett gave me a small tight-lipped smile that rose all the way to her hazel eyes making them twinkle. In the future I would come to know that particular smile very well, and crave seeing it. I would come to call it her secret smile. The smile that was reserved only for me. But in this moment I basked in her silent approval. I just might have provided the break in the case that we needed.
She rose out of the rocking chair and held out her hand to me. I took hold of her hand and she helped me to my feet. My knees betrayed me a little but choosing that moment to pop in that unsettle way of reminding me that I was not as young as I used to be. That made Beckett smile a little more.
As much as I would have loved seeing that smile remain on her face, it did not last long. Her serious face returned in the blink of an eye as she walked out of the bedroom with me hot on her heels. She strode into the kitchen and walked up to Sorenson.
"Theresa's sister, Nina. You got an address?" She told him.
XXX
It took a little convincing Agent Chisel Chin that the kidnapper was Theresa's sister. Especially when he learned that I was the one who had provided the breakthrough. What turned him around
was when Beckett reminded him that we had lost the signal on the phone shortly after we had told the Candelas that we were tracking the phone.
Pretty soon we all rolled from the Candela's apartment armed with Nina's address. Sorenson left a couple of his agents with the Candelas and he certainly did not say where we were going. This time I got to ride in the same car as Beckett and Sorenson. I found it a little unusual to see Beckett sitting in the passenger seat and not driving but as this was Agent Chisel Chin's car, well, he got to drive.
There were no screeching of tires or wailing police sirens. Actually there was as we made our way to the destination but as we neared the street the lights and sirens were switched off. No sense in alerting Nina Mendoza that we were on our way.
We pulled up quietly out the front of the apartment building. Joining us was a marked squad car. Beside the building was a small private palyground for the tenants of the apartment building. Beckett's sharp eyes spotted Nina Mendoza sitting on a bench in the playground. Beckett sent Esposito and Ryan around the back to cover any possible escape route. Once the boys were in place, Beckett, Sorenson and I emerged from the Fedmobile.
We walked through the front gate and I came to a halt as Beckett and Sorenson continued to approach the bench where Nina had been sitting on and was now standing. She looked nervous and looked behind her as if she was thinking of making a break for it. The appearance of Esposito and Ryan quickly disabused her of that idea.
Angela Candela rugged up in a beanie and thick coat was playing in a multi coloured jungle gym. Beckett made for the little girl while Sorenson stopped in front of a defeated looking Nina Mendoza.
"Nina Mendoza, you're under arrest for the kidnapping of Angela Candela." Sorenson informed her.
Esposito and Ryan moved in with Esposito cuffing her and Ryan reading her rights.
My gaze turned back to Beckett who was bending beside the little girl. And then I saw another side of Kate Beckett I never thought I would see. The maternal side.
"Hello Angela, I'm so happy to see you." Beckett said gently. "You want to go and see mommy?"
The little girl nodded her head. Beckett lifted the little girl from the jungle gym and held her closely.
"Come on baby. Look at you." She said, smiling. "Hello, hi beautiful...Want to grab your rabbit?"
Angela nodded her head. Beckett reached down and grabbed the stuffed rabbit and held it out for Angela.
"Look at the rabbit." Beckett cooed as the little girl took hold of her favourite toy. Beckett left the playground passing by me. Her focus entirely on the little girl.
Watching Beckett with little Angela Candela I was struck by the thought that some time in the future Beckett would make a wonderful mother.
I saw Sorenson watching Beckett walking back to the car and then his gaze turned towards me. He looked relieved that we had found the little girl. Some of that hardness that was a feature of his face had gone. As I have said before, he was not one of my favourite people but he had done well. There had been a successful outcome to this case which might have gone some way to ease the guilt of not having saved that other child. I gave him a nod, a nod that said well done. He accepted it in his own way.
He started walking, following Beckett and I fell into step beside him.
This time I got to sit in the front passenger seat of Sorenson's Fedmobile. Beckett was in the backseat playing with Angela. Beckett definitely would make a fantastic mother one day.
XXX
It was a leisurely return to the Candela's apartment. Alfred and Theresa were sitting at the dining room table when Beckett walked in carrying Angela in her arms. Sorenson and I followed her. Alfred looked up and his face broke into a big smile.
"Oh my God. Angie!" He shouted as he scrambled to his feet.
Alfred came over and scooped Angela from out of Beckett's arms.
"Mia corazon! Oh God! You look perfect!" He said with emotion as he hugged and kissed his little girl. He looked to Beckett. "Is she okay?"
"She's fine, yeah." Beckett assured him.
I stood back a little and watched the happy reunion which would soon change. I saw Alfred turn towards his wife who had remained seated at the table.
"Honey, what are you doing?" Alfred asked. "She's here. She's home!"
Theresa Candela did not respond to her husband. She had the same defeated look on her face that her sister had when we had arrested her. Alfred stared at his wife and then at Beckett and Sorenson. He saw the serious looks on their faces.
"What's going on?" Alfred asked, suddenly looking a little confused.
Sorenson moved a little closer to Theresa. He looked over to FBI Tech lady.
"Crawford, could you take Angela." He said.
So that was FBI Tech lady's name? Crawford? FBI Tech lady nodded her head and moved over to Alfred and took the little girl from him. As she passed Beckett, she handed over the stuffed bunny.
Alfred turned to look at his wife.
"What did you do?" He demanded in a low voice.
Theresa did not respond immediately. She rose from the table and took a couple of steps towards Alfred.
"I worked fourteen hour days year after year, killing myself so that we could have a life." Theresa said. "And what did you do? Oh , you painted. All you did was paint." There was acid dripping from her voice in her last remarks.
"That's not true." Alfred defended himself.
"Really?" Theresa exclaimed. "What about that job said you were going to get so that I could cut my hours?"
"I was taking care of Angela."
"'Taking care'? You left her there, in front of the TV! Everyday!" Theresa shouted, waving at the silent television set. Then she looked from Sorenson to Beckett and then to me. "Do you know how many times I woke up to her screams because he was in that room, blasting the music in his ears?"
I felt uncomfortable having a ringside seat to witness this domestic scene, watching a marriage finally crumble apart. I looked across to Alfred. He certainly would never get my vote for Father of The Year in this life time or the next. Alfred looked more shocked than angry at discovering that his wife was behind the kidnapping of his daughter.
"It doesn't give you the right to kidnap your own child." Beckett informed Theresa.
Theresa turned to face Beckett, lifting her chin.
"How is it kidnapping?" She demanded. "She's my daughter."
"Mrs Candela, you had your sister climb through the window and take her." Beckett accused.
"I gave her permission."
"It doesn't matter." Beckett said firmly. "You violated your husband's custodial rights."
"'Custodial rights'?" Theresa laughed. "He didn't even notice that she was gone! What kind of father does that to his two year old child?"
"Why would you do this?" Alfred questioned. "Why would you put us through that? I mean, for godsake, why didn't you just divorce me?"
Theresa rounded on him, glaring. She told him that she did not want him to sue for alimony, she did not want him to get half of everything. Theresa did not want him to get custody of Angela because she worked all day and Alfred could be there for Angela. She had seen what happened to the guys at work, what had happened to Doug Ellers. There was no way she wanted that happening to her.
"You were paying the ransom to yourself." I said.
"Once Angela returned, I would file the papers." Theresa replied. "There would be nothing left for him to take."
"And if Angela was kidnapped when Alfred was taking care of her..." Beckett surmised.
"The lawyer said that if I could prove him negligent, I would get custody." Theresa confirmed.
She added that she would not have to move out of the apartment that she had paid for so that Alfred could live here with her daughter.
Theresa looked at all of us with tear filled us.
"Do you know how hard it was to adopt her?" She cried. "How much it cost? Ten years!"
She turned to face her husband.
"How many paintings have you sold, Alfred? Huh? How many?"
A look of deep pain settled on Alfred's face as he stared down at his wife.
"How could you hate me so much?" He asked in a quite voice.
"You made it easy."
XXX
It was early evening and most of the bullpen had been cleared for the day. One of the desks that was occupied was Beckett's. She was at her desk finishing up the paperwork of the case. Theresa Candela had been had been sent down to Central booking, as was her sister Nina.
I had just finished a conversation with a uniform and was coming around the corner when I stopped suddenly. I saw Special Agent Chisel Chin walk through the near empty bullpen and come to a stop by Beckett's desk. He sat down in the chair beside her desk.
I did not mean to eavesdrop, really, but I could not help it. The quietude of the bullpen allowed for sound to travel and I will admit it, I was a little curious.
"So, how do you think she'll do?" Sorenson asked.
"Well, it depends on how many mothers are on the jury." Beckett replied.
"So, now that it's over...now that I'm back," Sorenson said a little hesitantly. "I was thinking. Maybe we could give it another shot."
Beckett paused in her paperwork. She set her pen down and looked across to him.
"And when you leave again?"
"You come with me."
Beckett regarded Sorenson for a moment before she looked away. From where I was standing Beckett had her back to me so I could not see her face but I can imagine what it looked like. The slump of her shoulders spoke volumes. The disappointed look on Sorenson's face was also a dead give away.
"Think about it." Sorenson said in a low voice as he got to his feet.
Beckett gave a curt nod of her head.
As Agent Chisel Chin was heading in my direction I made I was just coming this way. We did not stop and exchange any pleasantries but we did exchange a nod to each other. I quickly scurried over and sat down in the chair he had just vacated. I suspected that Beckett was in need of a little cheering up. Luckily for her, it was one of my specialities.
"Nice guy." I remarked. "I can see how it wouldn't work though."
"Really?" Beckett said, looking at me."
"Sure." I insisted.
"Huh."
"Handsome, square-jawed, by the book." I continued.
"And that's a bad thing?" Beckett asked.
"Yeah, he's like the male you." I said, looking at her. "Ying needs Yang, not another Ying. Ying-Ying is...a name for a panda."
"Any more wisdom, Obi-Wan?" Beckett said, a small amused smile dancing on her lips as she started gathering her things.
"Nope. That's it." I declared. "What say we celebrate by going out for a drink?"
Beckett got to her feet and I followed suit.
"I can't. I got a date." She announced.
"A date? You date? Who?" I blurted out.
"That's why it's called 'private life'. Because it's private." Beckett said. "Unlike you, I don't live my life on Page Six."
"Well, you're a mysterious woman, Detective Beckett."
"Maybe there's a little more Nikki Heat in me than you think."
Beckett pushed her chair under her desk. She gave me one of her tight-lipped smiles that rose all the way to her hazel eyes before she turned and walked from the bullpen.
My eyes narrowed as I watched her depart. That intoxicating sway of her hips. I was very curious to know who this mystery man was. At the same time I was very jealous of him, whoever he was. Yet, whoever he was, he was a very lucky man.
XXXXX
There you have it the end of another case. Your thoughts or opinions would be greatly appreciated. Send me what you think.
Con