Too Close

Chapter 85

Sighing, Kate takes a second bite of her burger. "This is great, but I don't know about those nut logs, Babe. They look like they've been on display since last Christmas."

Rick dips a french fry in a pool of ketchup. "You may have a point, but the pies are freshly baked. I can smell the deliciousness wafting from the kitchen. We could bring the boys a couple of those. You think they're more into apple or cherry? Or maybe…" Castle's cell bleeps an email alert. "Kate, it's from Gene Tree. One of my relatives replied to my message."

"Aren't you going to read it?"

"Yeah, but all of a sudden, my fries are doing a Mexican hat dance in my stomach."

Kate reaches across the table to take Rick's hand. "Go for it, Babe."

Castle slowly grins as he reads the text. "Her name is Marie Descoine, and she lives in Cambridge. She says she's wondered if we're related because her younger brother can wiggle his scalp the way she saw me do it on Letterman. Her grandfather came down to Massachusetts from Quebec so that he could attend MIT, and never left. He worked on programming the virtual turtles that were early creations of the university's artificial intelligence lab."

"That could explain where your love of gadgets comes from."

"Maybe," Castle considers. "It doesn't come from Mother. She has a love-hate relationship with the juicer, and Alexis had to set up a Facebook account for her. There's more here. Marie has an uncle whom she remembers being able to do my little maneuver too, but she hasn't seen him in over 40 years. Wow! Could that be my father? He didn't do it while we were in Paris, but then neither did I. We had more important things on our minds. I wonder if there are any family pictures? I'm going to ask her. Maybe she can bring them to our wedding."

"So, you're going to invite her?"

"I'm going to invite her whole family — my family. If they come, they can counterbalance your Aunt Theresa's horde."

"Don't get your hopes up, Castle," Kate counsels. "So far, all you have is an email."

"True," Castle acknowledges, "but if curiosity also runs in the family, there will be more." After stowing his phone in his pocket, he reaches for another fry.

"No more hat dance?" Kate inquires.

"I believe," Castle declares, "that the sombrero has left the building."

In the breakroom, Ryan offers Kate a file while Castle cuts generous wedges of cherry pie. Kate grabs the folder as Ryan picks up a paper plate with a gooey slice, and scans the entries. "Monica Lane. She works for a fracking company?"

Ryan pauses a moment to swallow. "Right. Tanner wrote an exposé on a swarm of earthquakes caused by their activities."

"Hardly a reason for her to cozy up to him," Castle notes, "unless she was trying to get some dirt to discredit him. Maybe while he was in a post-assignation haze, she managed to get into his computer and stole his program."

Kate spears a cherry attempting to escape a flaky crust. "We're going to find out."

Monica Lane squirms uncomfortably under Kate's gaze. "I don't know a Dale Tanner.

Kate pushes an 8X10 print from the park surveillance video across the table. "This says that you do."

"And you would appear to be pretty close, um, friends," Castle adds.

"All right, so Dale and I were having an affair," Monica admits. "So what? People have affairs all the time."

"But men like Tanner don't usually have them with women working for companies they abhor. And women don't usually have affection for men who can put them out of a job. So who did Dale think you were, and why did you play up to him?" Castle demands.

"He thought I was a tree-hugging secretary who could get him further information. And I played up to him to keep my job. As you pointed out, Dale was trying to drive my employer out of business. I needed to stop him."

"So, you stole the program that led to his death?" Kate accuses.

"What? No. I didn't steal anything. I don't know about any program. I just kept him distracted until I could dig up something that would make him lay off."

"Looks like you don't have to worry about that now," Castle remarks.

"Can you think of anyone who would have had access to Tanner's computer equipment?" Kate queries.

"He mentioned an assistant of sorts, a grad student named Omar," Monica recalls. "And of course, his family would have been able to get at it."

"What can you tell us about Omar?" Kate presses. "Did you get his last name?"

Monica shrugs. "Sorry. About the only thing Dale said was that the guy was pushing for a raise, but Dale couldn't afford it. His website has subscribers, but I think his wife brings in more money than he did."

Castle's eyes harden. "So while the woman is working to support her family, you sleep with her husband so you can betray him too. Nice."

"She isn't the only one who has to make a living," Monica retorts.

Sean Tanner's eyes flash with anger as he answers the door of the Tanner home. "You should leave my mother alone. Haven't you brought her enough grief?"

"We're trying to find out who killed your father, Sean," Kate replies softly. "Perhaps you can help us. Do you know your father's assistant, Omar?"

"Yeah, I met him a few times when he was working with my father. He showed me a few programming tricks. Do you think Omar had something to do with my dad's death?"

"We just need to talk to him," Kate explains. "Would you know his full name?"

"Omar Dixon. He takes classes at Hudson U. They should know where to find him."

"Detective Beckett," Jared Stack calls from the elevator as the doors open on the bullpen. "We checked out Warburg's alibi for Tanner's death. You and Castle were right. At the time the pilot of the drone lost control, Warburg was at the market in Lambertville, sounding off about the mistreatment of workers who pick lettuce. There's no way he could have done it. So, I need you to give me everything you've got."

"You could try asking politely," Castle suggests.

"I'm sure that the N.Y.P.D. wants to nail Tanner's killer just as much as the DHS does," Stack counters.

"We do," Kate concedes. "Our primary suspect is an Omar Dixon. We're checking for a location on him now."

Esposito slams the receiver of his desk phone into its cradle. "Bad news, Beckett. Omar Dixon dropped his classes due to illness in his family in Iran. According to the airline, he boarded a flight that took off 30 minutes ago. No way we can get our hands on him now."

"You're discounting the power of a 900-pound gorilla," Stack responds smugly, retreating toward the lounge. "I need to make a call."

"Do you think that jerk can get a plane turned around?" Ryan wonders.

"If he can, I don't care if he's a jerk," Kate responds. "We can accept the help, but we're still the ones who uncovered Omar's access to Tanner's equipment. You guys head for the airport, just in case Stack can pull this off. Castle and I will let you know if Stack's got a gorilla or 'George of the Jungle."'

"Hey, I like those cartoons," Castle protests, as the two detectives grab their jackets. "You want to hear my vine-swinging yell?"

Kate brushes her lips against his ear, whispering, "Maybe later."