Guardian Angel
Chapter 32
"Coming back to the loft with me?" Castle inquires. "I thought I'd run image matching on Bracken's well-dressed friend, at least until the boys come up with something. And Alexis is probably already there. All she had this afternoon was Physics Club, and it doesn't usually run long."
"Is there an extracurricular activity she doesn't participate in, Castle?"
"Cheerleading. She tried it out for a while and discovered that it interfered with both French Club and fencing. Good riddance, as far as I'm concerned. Have you seen how short the skirts are on girls' cheerleading uniforms?"
Kate rolls her eyes. "Castle, I never would have taken you for a prude."
"I'm not. If an adult woman chooses to strut her stuff, I'm pleased to enjoy it. But I remember all too well what goes through the mind of a teenage boy, and I don't want my daughter being the object of hormonally charged lust."
"He has a point, Kate," Johanna interjects. "Your father felt the same way about some of the things you wore. And I was involved with cases where some asshole teenage boy believed he had the right to assault a girl because he thought what she was wearing was provocative. I'm sure the N.Y.P.D. has coped with too many of them. Rick may be going a little overboard, but there's nothing wrong with a father wanting to protect his daughter."
"That is kind of sweet," Kate responds.
Castle presses a quick kiss to her temple. "I'm glad you understand. Anyway, since we have time, I thought I could make a sit-down dinner. How do you feel about stroganoff?"
"Love it!"
"Good. We can stop on the way to pick up some sour cream, and we'll be all set."
Castle could only describe the way Kate stretches in her chair as they finish dinner as feline. If Alexis weren't there, he'd consider rubbing the detective in a spot that would elicit a purr. Maybe he can get to that later, after his daughter retires to her room to study. Anyway, it's time to check his image matching program for results. Something could have popped while they were eating, or the process could grind on for hours. In a way, he's hoping for the latter, as it will give Kate an excuse to linger.
After loading the dishwasher, Rick checks his laptop. Images continue to flit across the screen. He sets an alert to sound if the program finds a match, something he didn't want to happen during dinner. Kate joins him, leaning her chin on his shoulder as he bends over the screen. Nothing yet?"
"No. I could turn on the T.V. while we wait. It's almost time for 'Jeopardy.'"
Kate wraps her arms around his waist. "The way you love strange factoids, I should have known you'd be a fan. Sure. I like Alex Trebek."
"You have a thing for older men?" Castle queries.
Kate moistens her lips with the tip of her tongue. "It depends on how well they know the answers."
"But," Castle points out, pulling her closer, "the game depends on asking the right questions."
"How could they not remember the father and son Deckers, who both took a turn at commanding the Enterprise?" Castle groans as two out of three contestants miss the "Final Jeopardy" question.
"I'm with Rick," Johanna inserts.
Kate shakes her head. "Not everyone is a Trekkie, even on 'Jeopardy.' Personally, I thought Nebula Nineā¦"
An alarm blares from Castle's pocket. "Ooh! I set that to alert me of any news stories about cyber-attacks. That could be about what Izzy did to Bracken's network." He holds up his phone, so Kate can see, as he touches the screen. "Yes! This is from Z.N.N. 'Unknown cyber attacker shuts down every computer connected to the campaign of William Bracken. As yet, no one has claimed responsibility for the breach.' The rest is P.R. boilerplate." Rick grabs the remote control. "There's probably more on the live broadcast."
A young correspondent reporting from Bracken headquarters holds a microphone in one hand and points to the message displayed on a screen with the other. "Toch toady! Hah!" Castle exclaims. "Izzy is getting his message out there. Good for him!"
"Archangel Michael would like Izzy," Johanna muses. "In his way, he's quite a warrior."
"Screwed up computers should keep Bracken distracted," Kate figures. "That's good for us."
Castle shoves his phone back in his pocket and turns off the TV. "This calls for a celebration," he announces. "Red, white, or Champagne?"
"Babe, I think we ought to save the Champagne for when we get Coonan to flip, but I wouldn't mind a glass of red," Kate responds.
Castle grins, rubbing his hands together. "Absolutely. Coming right up."
Maddox drums his fingers on his steering wheel. He isn't expecting a prisoner transfer this late, but anything is possible. At least Bracken isn't breathing down his neck. From the blurb he saw pop up on his newsfeed, the bigshot has other problems, and damage control should keep him busy for a day or two. Cole decides to call it a night. With any luck, he'll finish his mission before Bracken gets too worried about it. Who would have thought that foot-dragging by the N.Y.P.D. or the D.A. would pose a problem? Usually, it's a positive. It doesn't matter. Cole makes it his business to prepare for any eventuality. If he didn't, he would have been dead long ago.
"Found it!" Castle's computer proclaims as Rick takes the last sip of his wine.
"It that for Bracken's mystery man?" Kate asks, putting her glass on the coffee table.
Rick pushes up from the couch. "If the program is working right. Let's see what it found."
"He looks younger," Kate notes, studying the image displayed on the screen of Rick's laptop.
"Uh-huh," Castle agrees. "That pic says it's from a basketball team posting. It must have been taken years ago, but stuff like that stays on the web forever. The app would check biometrics, the distance between the subject's eyes, and so forth. His age shouldn't matter much unless he was in an accident or had extensive plastic surgery."
Kate reads the small print on the caption. "It says his name is Darnell Brown, not exactly uncommon."
"But he is a Darnell Brown who played basketball and was apparently good at it. There should be more references to him, a school, a neighborhood, something. We can look at other team members too. We'll track him down," Castle declares.
Smiling, Kate threads her fingers through his hair. "You know, Castle, you're getting pretty good at this."
"Kate, I've had to study crime-solving techniques for years to write about them. The research librarians at the main branch and I are all on a first-name basis. One of them adopted me as her honorary grandson. Now I'm getting to put what I learned into action. It feels good."
"It feels good to do it with you," Kate confides.
Rick kicks his chair back from his desk and pulls Kate into his lap. "Yeah? What else would feel good, Detective?"
How about if we discuss that after we find out more about Darnell Brown?"
You are a dedicated woman, Kate Beckett," Castle sighs, waving his hand at his keyboard. "You want to run the search, or should I?"
"You've been doing great so far. But," Kate proposes, brushing her lips across his, "I can give you a taste of what can come later."
"Then perhaps you'd better get up," Castle suggests regretfully. "I want to type as fast as I can, the sooner to get to more engaging endeavors.
