Sleep is over rated. Work is therapeutic. He understands now, why the rabbit hole is a safe place to burro underground and ignore the incessant chatter from your heart. He won't let himself think about her. He can't waste time on shit that doesn't matter like feelings and love and old boyfriends.
The truth is that even without his blowup yesterday he'd be too busy to spare her a thought. Hail, the hacker, came through with files from Ben Moss's computer. The first set of devices from Bracken's place are ready for analysis and Pulgotti sent a message that they got a big fish on the line.
Pulgotti's crew zeroed in on an arsonist doing time for torching places where owners wanted to collect insurance money. He's got seven years left before he can even come up for parole hearings because a homeless guy was injured when an old tank exploded sending some debris into the addict's leg. It's well known among other inmates that this guy set lots of blazes in lots of places. These other arson sites are open cases for which no one has been caught, and one of those fires happened to be a warehouse full of bank records. He was told how to tamper with the electrical box but also to set a traditional fire in a certain section of the building. The contact wanted to ensure a specific area burned no matter how quickly the fire was put out. That's a lead which can go straight to the task force to investigate. Straight to her boyfriends...
He pauses, sits back in his chair and swivels to look out at gray dawn of a new day. He takes a sip of black tea. He wants to be pissed at the task force - at the men who came together on her behalf, but he just can't hold on to the anger. They dropped everything in their own lives to work against an evil conspiracy that could end their careers or their lives. In a numb, detached way feels a kinship with them even if he's not one of the 'inner circle.' They all assume he and Beckett are lovers and they're fine working with him. Why can't he be okay with them? His life sucks. Regardless, there was no reason to go off on a woman struggling to heal from devastating injuries. He shakes his head and squashes the feelings - just like a certain detective used to do.
Castle is still staring out the window, lost and feeling a little broken, when a shadowy figure reflects in the glass. He watches the ghost haunting his space until reality draws him back. He pivots to find a man rather than an apparition coming out of his bedroom obviously checking to see if they are alone. He stares dumbly for a few seconds, notes the bulge indicating a concealed weapon under the blazer. He can't remember if his pistol is still in the night stand by his bed or if he absently picked it up and shoved it in the desk drawer. Doesn't matter because if he needed it he would be dead by now. "My daughter and mother are upstairs asleep. It will be several hours before anyone disturbs us."
Agent Gray nods. He holds up a scanner. Your place is clear."
"I've been checking regularly, too."
"This unit is better than what you use, but the end result is that no one is listening or recording. You seem to be staying below the radar successfully. There were two searches recently about you for property deeds, one from a computer used by federal agent Sorenson."
Castle told the fed to double check that canary trap sites appeared to have no connection to the author. He only wishes he could have seen the look on Will's face when he realized just how rich "writer monkey" is. He nods, letting Gray know it was above board. "The other?"
"The second search was for both Castle/Rogers property, but did not reveal any shell corporations or hidden assets you may or may not have. Nor did the search penetrate the Roger Richardson background the CIA provided for you back when you worked with Turner. The user also conducted searches for deeds held by anyone with the last name of Beckett. The inquiries came from an employee with the SEC. Jin Uchiyama seems to perform a higher than average number of credit and background checks on people."
Castle clicks through several screens to find a certain file Hail told him to look at first. The file "Special Client List" had four documents titled "King," Queen," "Bishop," or "Pawn," each filled with names. Castle is on the pawn list, Beckett and Montgomery are on the "bishop" list. Bracken is a 'queen' (if that were true he would have been outed long before now) and the names on the king's list are a curious mix of influential leaders and ordinary people like Noah Charles and Jordan Norris. He highlights the SEC employee on the queen list. Castle has yet to puzzle out the distinctions of each category, so this should help.
He closes those files and pulls up the analysis software for the resonance devices. Gray shows him how to place the tiny mound over the connector base and plugs it in to the computer. The program is awkward to use but it starts running immediately organizing the data into speech, keyboard strokes, and mobile numbers.
The agent reminds him of the limitations, "These devices won't pick up electronic information like text messages. Any speech recorded won't be separated by the person speaking, just words, and you'll see that the software gets a lot of them wrong or 'unintelligible.' The computer keystroke function is rather poor by today's standards, but you'll still get some phrases and threads of the conversation, more with older computers and less with modern laptops. The cellular phone number function is really only useful if you can compare it to numbers from other locations. This version soaks up all the phone numbers in the area both incoming and outgoing so the results can be minimal or a huge cache of numbers depending on the remoteness of the setting. But once you compare the numbers from device A to device B you quickly get an idea which numbers are the target's (and any burner phone being used) and who is called the most frequently. These old devices were a huge help at the time, but they required a lot of analysis which is why they are out of service and replaced by newer technology."
"Got it. Thank you."
"Mr. Castle, do not mistake my presence here as implied support of your efforts. Take this warning to heart: your efforts are of interest to the agency, but no one is risking the ire of these power players by helping you."
"Yet here you are."
"You paid a hefty amount to purchase several pairs of these units. The software that goes with them is just part of that purchase. We both know you could have gotten similar devices from the Chinese or Russian black markets, but your former association with us means we know your efforts are worth watching." He pauses, reevaluates the author and doesn't spare him, "There was talk of recruiting you for clandestine operations except for one trait that held you back."
He watches the flicker of interest pass over the writer's tired features. "Your heart is too big. You would sacrifice yourself to save another. If you want a new career I can get you an interview with the Threat Assessment Division of the Secret Service. They're the ones who jump in front of bullets. The CIA needs people who can sacrifice others for the greater good and that's not you. If you're going to pull this off, it won't be without cost. Decide now what you're willing to pay because you look like hell."
Agent Gray turns his back on Castle and leaves. Rick feels nothing, just watches the computer continue to reveal the information from Bracken's house. The bugs from the New York office will be ready for pick up tonight. He's got to get another large withdraw of cash on hand. This has been much more expensive than even he imagined (and he has a great imagination) but even now it's still worth it. He can walk away with a clean slate, start his second act without any guilt.
Assuming he survives. Castle looks at the hacker list again. Right now he is a pawn. He's trying to take down a king - or queen according to this list. He feels the niggle of interest like reading a good mystery for the first time that is full of tantalizing clues but he can't figure out who-done-it. The idea blossoms and takes shape. He needs to work with the information, all the clues, like it's a mystery story. Not only will it help him figure out who the important characters are, he can keep the manuscript as an insurance policy. If he goes missing someone (Beckett) will have the necessary information.
His hands twitch and he rubs his wrists eager to get started. His finger fly over the keys and everything he has so far falls into place. He doesn't know how much time has passed but he has the opening chapters outlined and pages upon pages written. He startles as the phone on his desk rings again. That must be what drew him out of the shadow world.
"Hello?"
"Rick, I have a meeting with Black Pawn's counsel today. Do you have a few minutes to talk about strategy?"
"Yes, I'm glad you called. I've been mulling over what you said about arbitration and the end result is that the publishing house will get less than what they want but still end up making me do extra publicity that I never agreed to do. I'm usually an easy going guy, but they've really pissed me off. Actually everything is pissing me off but my anger at Black Pawn is not a fleeting temper-tantrum. They back down or I'm done with them."
Silence lingers on the other end of the phone.
"Theo? Am I rambling too much and not making myself clear? I've been in a writing fog all morning but it will be a relief to get Black Pawn off my back."
"Rick, let me counsel you not to make drastic ultimatums. If you leave Black Pawn there's a few ways they can tie up the Nikki Heat books for a long time. I've had a meeting with Mr. James Beckett and he suggested a strategy that has a very good chance of working. Let me play things out instead."
"I'm not telling you to throw in the towel, I just want them to know how far I'm prepared to go. I will severe ties with them and find a new publisher even if the Nikki Heat series get shelved."
"They won't believe me. I want you to repeat what you said so I can record it. Okay?"
"Good idea."
"Whenever you're ready..."
"Being a writer is my identity. It's a fundamental part of who I am, but it is not all of who I am. I was thrilled to become a published author. I was giddy to become a best selling author. Then finally to have the validation of a consistent release of chart topping novels is beyond words. I truly appreciate the readers."
"My association with Black Pawn over the years has been... well, 'consistent' for lack of a better word. That's great for a new talent who needs firm editing and guidance on crafting a niche in the market. It has been less than stellar when the creative process doesn't fall in line with the publishing deadlines, but we've managed to work for a common goal - until now."
"In one of the darkest times of my life it was sheer determination that got the latest Heat novel written. Instead of support and consideration I was nagged about PR and publicity appearances. I feel the new leadership wants to treat me as a pawn who has no choice but to move when and how they say, and threaten me if I dare to refuse."
"That stops right now. I'm no one's pawn. I'd rather give up Nikki Heat than continue to associate with people who treat me like dirt. I am willing to sever all ties with Black Pawn, and if it means this is the last Nikki Heat book, I can live with that. Are you clear about what I want?"
"Yes, that's very clear. I've stopped the recording. This will certainly change the direction of things when I go there today. I have to ask, though, are you sure about the long term implications of this threat? It's my job to negotiate what you want, but I'm afraid it may not be what's best for you."
Rick shrugs, then remembers he's on speaker phone, not a video call. "Theo, I trust you to work it out. It's one battle too many for me to fight. I admit I haven't started on the edits, but I'll do that as soon as we hang up. I got caught up in writing a different kind of story and time flew by and the words poured out. I want to get the Heat manuscript done quickly so I can get back to this other thing and not have the stories intermingle in my head."
"You sound energized. I was worried about you at the last meeting so its good to hear a vibrant tone back in your voice. Take care, Rick. I'll keep you posted on important developments, but I won't bother you with the mundane offers and counter-offers. Take care."
"Thanks, Theo. I mean it. I know you've got my back." He softly clicks off the phone. It's done. Nikki's future is in jeopardy. Why is his stomach in a knot and he suddenly wants to sulk like a child? He swallows the bile and shakes the tension from his shoulders. He pops an aspirin, swallows the last dregs of black tea, and gets to work. He gets to spend a little more time with her before he potentially says goodbye.
He opens the file from Gina and scans through random sections. Surprisingly, the editorial comments are limited. If this is a fair representation of the entire manuscript, he can have the edits done in a day or two at most. It shouldn't take long before he's finished with Nikki and he can focus full time on more important matters.
He's lost in the haze, agreeing with most of the red ink. He's forgetting to eat but sipping tea when the text appears: I love you.
He grins at the burner phone. Alexis is such a good daughter. He doesn't stop to reply; he will give her a big hug next time he sees her.
It escapes him that Alexis doesn't have the number to the burner phone.