Too Close

Chapter 81

"Wow! Mother said her people were carnies, but they really traveled — and left a trail. It looks like I have connections all over this country and Canada and some in Europe. Maybe that's how the Finnish crept in. I wonder if they ever performed for royalty?"

"If there is a story about her family doing that, I'd think Martha would know it. You should ask her." Kate suggests.

"I will," Castle agrees.

Kate leans in to see the screen of Castle's computer. "What about your father?"

"It doesn't look like there's nearly as much on his side. There's someone in Three Rivers Canada and one each in Massachusetts and Louisiana. That must be the French ancestry. If my forebears came over as Huguenots, they might have landed in Three Rivers and then traveled south like the Cajuns."

"It sounds like there might be an interesting tale there too."

"Not that I'd ever hear it — at least not from him. I'm going to put out messages to all the links that came up and see if anyone is willing to identify themself and respond. My father's relatives in Canada and New England are a short flight or a long drive away. Maybe we will have an extra wedding guest or two. And even if we don't, it could be great to make the connections."

Kate flicks back an errant strand of hair falling in Rick's face. "I hope it works out for you, Babe."

Kate surveys the scene around a bombed-out car. It was predictable that the N.Y.P.D. wouldn't be the only official presence. Bombings are often assumed to be terrorist activity unless proven otherwise. But this one doesn't fit the pattern. Terrorists design bombs to do as much damage as possible. Taking out one man in one car and leaving everything in the surrounding area untouched seems more personal than political.

Esposito trudges over in disgust. "The feds took over the scene before CSU could even finish their sweep. They could have at least given us a chance to identify the vic before claiming jurisdiction. From what CSU was able to get before the feds shut them down, the explosion originated in the driver's seat. There was no bomb under the car or in the engine compartment. It's like someone tossed something at the driver, but none of the witnesses saw anything like that happen."

"What did they see?" Kate asks.

"Ryan and I didn't get very far in questioning them before the feds shut us down, but I spoke to a teenager who said it was a tiny guided missile, like in one of his video games."

"Or a drone, maybe?" Castle wonders.

Esposito points to a man in black, supervising the removal of the car and the body. "That guy had his people hustle the kid off before he could say anything else. Beckett, this stinks of a cover-up."

"And the MIB over there is the one pulling the rug over it. I'm going to go talk to him," Kate declares. "Did you get a name?"

"Yeah. He flashed his DHS ID at me. It said, Jared Stack."

With Castle close behind her, Kate stalks across the street. "Agent Stack, is it?"

Stack swivels, his appraising glance of Kate earning him a black look from Rick. Stack's eyes quickly take in Kate's badge. "Yes, Detective…"

"Beckett. Agent Stack, can you show me your authorization for disrupting my crime scene? Your interference blocked us from obtaining the evidence necessary to determine the cause of death as well as who's behind the victim's near incineration."

"Detective Beckett, as I'm sure you're aware, The Patriot Act gives extensive powers to the DHS in the case of terrorism or even suspected terrorism. I don't need further authorization. But," he pulls a card out of his wallet, "in the interest of maintaining a working relationship with the N.Y.P.D., you can call this number. It's the headquarters of a special task force operating directly under the authority of the Attorney General. Ask for Chief Carl Villante. He will fill you in on the powers assigned to me regarding this incident."

"I assure you that I will do just that, Agent Stack," Kate returns.

Kate's call has to make it past two watchdogs before reaching Villante, but invoking Stack's name is the key both times. The chief is polite but brief in informing Kate that Jared Stack has complete authority over the situation under Federal law and will request local assistance as necessary.

Castle gazes down at Kate as she shoves her phone back in the pocket of her slacks. "So Stack's bona fides are legitimate?"

"They are," Kate confirms.

Castle stares at the MIB. "That doesn't mean we have to like him."

"No," Kate agrees, "it doesn't. And it doesn't mean we're going to leave this alone, either. CSU must have gotten something before they were warned off. And the plate on the car is still legible. We can identify the owner."

"If something flew over the city to reach the vehicle, someone, probably a lot of someones, would have noticed," Rick guesses. "There's got to be something on social media. A lot of posters add location tags. With any luck, we can trace the route it took."

"I can have Ryan scrub the traffic cam video for the car's approach," Kate adds. "We'll get enough of a picture of what happened to put together a timeline and maybe figure out who had it in for our victim, while Stack is playing spy games."

Castle presses a quick kiss to the top of Kate's head. "I love the way you think."

"The car belonged to a Dale Tanner," Esposito announces, striding across the bullpen. "and the DMV's description matches what was left of him in the car. We've got an address."

"Good," Kate acknowledges. "Castle and I will go check it out. Do you have any military buddies who might know anything about a missile or drone that could have been aimed at Tanner?"

"I might," Esposito responds. "I'll make some calls."

"I can continue monitoring social media while we're en route," Castle volunteers.

Kate nods. "Let's go."

Tanner's wife, Beth, answers the door of Tanner's home. "Mrs. Tanner, I'm Detective Kate Beckett and I'm investigating an incident that took place this morning. Did your husband drive his car into Manhattan?"

Beth shrugs, frowning. "It's not in the garage, and he's not here, so he must have driven it somewhere. I left early for work. We're not supposed to take personal calls on company time, so he doesn't let me know when he's going out."

"Your husband was at home when you left?" Kate queries.

"As far as I know. Dale works from here running a website. He closes the door of his office while he's posting. He gets very involved in what he's doing, so I don't disturb him, but I know he was up. Our coffee maker starts on a timer at 6 a.m., and there was a cup missing by the time I poured mine."

"What kind of a website?" Castle asks.

"Whistleblower Anonymous. He exposes government abuses. He helped to break the secrecy around the torture of CIA prisoners. What he wrote led to a congressional investigation."

"Sounds as if there might be some people who wouldn't like him much," Castle notes.

"We've had several visits from the FBI, but Dale's never been charged with doing anything wrong. He does good work, important work," Beth insists, "but he gets a lot of hate mail. Do you think something happened to him?"

Kate lets her voice fall to its gentlest tone. "We'll need verification from federal authorities, but we think it's possible."