Guardian Angel

Chapter 17

"Don't go too heavy on the garlic," Johanna advises as Kate adjusts the seasoning in her sauce. "You and Rick might need to put your heads together."

"Mom," Kate hisses.

Castle looks up from checking the newsfeed on his phone while waiting for a signal from the Raglan bug. "Did you say something about your mom?"

"No, I was just thinking she would have liked making Nonna's recipes. She loved to cook when she had time, which wasn't often during the week. But Sundays, she would make incredible brunches. Dad and I had our choice of pancakes, waffles, or omelets."

"That's because I gave your father a chance to work up an appetite." Johanna teases.

Reddening, Kate stirs in an extra sprinkle of oregano. "This is going to be done soon. I'm going to boil the linguine. Any peeps from Raglan?"

"Not yet. Oh, wait! A guy is shouting! It's a sports announcer. Raglan must have turned on a baseball game. Someone just scored a triple."

"Must be preseason," Kate comments absently. "Raglan probably gets it on cable or something. McCallister might call during the seventh-inning stretch. We'll have to stay alert."


Sighing, Rick twirls his pasta against the side of his bowl. "This is excellent, Kate. Your Nonna may be feeding the angels, but I'm sure you added your special touch."

"She has set a table for the Host a couple of times," Johanna remarks.

Kate spears a black olive in her salad. "I didn't have to change much of anything, Castle. Nonna never quit working on her recipes."

"I get the message," Johanna acknowledges. "You kids enjoy."

"Castle," Kate queries, "There's something I've been wondering."

"Detective Beckett, I'm an open book. Sooner or later, you'd drag anything you want to know out of me anyway. It is your special gift."

"You're pretty good at extracting information yourself, Castle, but what I was wondering is why you killed off Derrick Storm?"

Rick lays down his fork and dabs at his mouth with a paper napkin. "Wow! I'm not sure I can explain how it works, but even if I outlined my books, I was never sure what my characters would do until it came out the ends of my fingers. And I loved the surprises. Having Derrick learn Clara Strike was still alive was one of those. I teared up when the words appeared on my screen. But the Storms got to the point where I always knew what Derrick would say, what he'd do. It was like I was transcribing a story, not writing one. There were no surprises anymore. And I figured there might not be many for my readers either. So I killed off my hero, the ultimate surprise."

Kate takes a sip from a bottle of water. "More like the ultimate shock."

"That is a more accurate descriptor," Rick admits. "But I think Nikki Heat is going to be a more interesting protagonist."

"Who?"

"Nikki Heat, the character based on you."

"I thought she was supposed to be a cop. She sounds more like a stripper."

"She is not now, nor has she ever been a stripper. I think CSI in Vegas had the conversion of a stripper to a crimefighter pretty well covered. Nikki is short for Nikita, from the Russian side of her family. I can think of all sorts of ways to use that. Her surname is a device, like calling my previous hero, Storm. Heat is short and pithy and can pair with numerous evocative adjectives. My tentative title for the first book is 'Heat Wave.' Conjures up all kinds of images, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, but I'm not sure I like them."

"Kate, trust me," Rick implores. "You'll like Nikki. She's caring, smart, gorgeous, and implacably stubborn."

Rick's phone emits a ring tone he doesn't recognize. "Kate, I think that's Raglan getting a call. He's picking up."

A hangdog voice crackles through the speaker. "Gary?"

"McCallister is calling Raglan!" Castle mouths.

Kate holds up her hand and shakes her head to quiet him. "Yeah, I'm watching the game," presumed Raglan continues. "Not as bad as when you called earlier. The stronger stuff the doc gave me is kicking in. Who asked you about a dead lawyer? A writer who was with a Kate Beckett? "Sh*t! That's the daughter. I remember her. No. I'm not going to say anything to him. Whatever happens to me now doesn't matter much anyway. But watch your ass, partner. He has ears everywhere and doesn't like loose ends. He may have already sent someone to take the daughter out, maybe you too. Yeah, it might be a good idea to get out of town, as far as you can get. Good luck, Mac."

Rick reaches across the table for Kate's hand. "A killer could have planted the bug we found here. We need to get you out."

Kate reaches for her cell. "I'll call the precinct. Montgomery will send a protective detail."

"You heard Raglan, at least I assume that was Raglan."

"It was," Kate confirms. "I remember his voice from when he told Dad and me that my mom was dead."

"He said whoever is pulling the strings has ears everywhere," Castle recounts. "He could have a mole at the 12th. Hell, he could have a mole anywhere in the department. Let me take you somewhere, Kate, somewhere safe."

"Listen to him, Katie," Johanna begs, popping back into Kate's view. "You could have a great life ahead of you. You deserve to live it. And you saw what my death did to your father. Losing you too could destroy him. You're not any more invulnerable than I was. For once, don't be stubborn. Just go!"

Kate stares at the determined spirit for a moment before meeting Castle's gaze. "All right, I just need to grab some things, clothes, stuff from the bathroom."

"OK, Kate, just hurry." Rick grudgingly agrees. "If that bug belongs to the killer, he already knows we found it. He knows where you live, Kate. Who knows what else he knows or how long before he comes after you? And you had to surrender your weapon."

"I have a backup piece, Castle. I'll take that with me, too."


Kate stares in disbelief at an opulent lobby. "The Golden Bowl? Castle, are you kidding me?"

"No, Kate, it's perfect. Some of the celebrities Mother knows, stay here whenever they're in town. I've hidden out in one of the suites a couple of times myself. There's a VIP floor. No one can even make the elevator stop on it without a key or a pass. The hotel rents the rooms up there under aliases. No one will know it's you. You can order 24/7 room service. Your server can even leave your food outside your door if you want. And the concierge can send up anything else you need. You won't have to see anyone, and no one will see you."

"Castle, a night here would probably cost me a month's salary, which I'm not even making right now," Kate protests.

"Kate, I've got it. Consider it compensation for consulting services on my book. If a hitman takes you out, I'll be stuck with a short story, an extremely depressing one. You're worth the investment. The rooms on the VIP floor all come with almost every TV channel known to man and movies on demand. There are music channels too. The Wi-Fi is secure. Oh, and one more thing. The VIP suites all come with a hot tub. You can let the foam swirl around you, drink good wine, and read a great book— maybe one of mine. You'll be safe, Kate. That's all that matters."

"Listen to him, Kate," Johanna beseeches.

Kate gestures toward the registration desk. "All right, Castle, check me in. I'll stay until I can work out my next step."