A/N: Trigger warning - brief mention of suicide.
Castle spends hours sifting through the intelligence from Hail's cyber snooping, Z Lot's surveillance, and the listening devices Dew and Powell regularly exchange. It's worth every penny and every minute because this demon needs sent back to hell.
Bracken is a nasty, twisted psychopath. Castle has heard the way he talks about people. The corrupt politician's fixation with Beckett is particularly bad at bringing out the sinister deviance of his mind. If he ever gets his hands on Beckett, well, the things he wants done to her are worse than death. The man is also ruthless with anyone who merely works for him on a sensitive project. Castle has to find a way to protect a guy who set up a super PAC. Just because it has connections to one of the shadow corporations used to launder drug money, the innocent man is going to have an 'accident.' Castle works endlessly to stay one step ahead of his foe.
The brilliance of Castle's involvement is plotting ways to foil the dragon's plans in the most mundane and innocent ways. A young mother who garnered Bracken's ire was suddenly out of harm's way when she won an all expense paid vacation to Disney World for the entire family. A thug is arrested during a traffic stop where drugs are found in his car. Another henchman comes down with a nasty case of food poisoning. The mole in Mayor Weldon's office has plumbing problems that keep him home from work for a week.
It is equally satisfying to design ways to transfer ill gotten information to the task force in a manner that supplies probable cause for legal investigation. Lots of snitches are coming forward. Coincidently, their family members are getting assistance from a new charity that helps with education expenses, health care costs, and better housing options. The tip line has anonymous insight from the public revealing just the right person who has relevant information to share. Martha's students have had stellar success getting stories from random strangers, and the photojournalists have shown up at just the right time to get intriguing shots of the prominent senator.
After the days bounty is processed, the author writes. It' a careful balance of Heat edits and his new novel (a thinly veiled accounting of a corrupt politician). Another dawn radiates beautiful hues unseen by Rick. A mug of black tea with milk quietly appears by his elbow. He instinctively reaches for it, lets the warm liquid soothe his stomach. He can't help but take a second deep gulp, his body crying out for something to sustain it. He carefully resets the mug because he can't risk spilling it - risks are everywhere and if he can control the little things they might keep from cascading out of control and causing an avalanche.
He feels better today. His mind is quieter with all the work. His heart is quivering at letting go of the latest (last?) Heat novel, but he wants it out there. He wants Rook to be the one who takes the bullet. He shakes the stiffness out of his arms and fingers wondering what time it is. He looks up and tries to refocus his eyes. His body is protesting the strain of too many hours at the computer. He waits, lets his mind reorient to his surroundings only to find he is being watched by his mother.
"Richard."
"Mother."
Her voice is soft and gentle instead of loud and dramatic, "Now that we've established who each other is, can you tell me what is going on?"
"No."
"Then you no longer need me to drop off this shiny red vestige of your success?" She holds up the keys to the Ferrari and the note asking her to take it to the car dealership. The concerned mother watches him closely.
"Oh, that. Yes, I still need you to drive it to there and pick up the cashier's check. They are expecting you. All the paperwork is done, but I don't want to be seen getting rid of it."
"How bad is it?" She needs to know so she can adjust accordingly. He's been more than generous, and it's probably long past when she needs to stand on her own. "Are you going to have to put the loft up for sale?"
"What! Why would I sell the loft?" He is truly bewildered how she jumped to that conclusion.
"You don't have to pretend with me, darling. I spoke to Paula and she told me that Black Pawn has dumped you as an author. You have no royalties coming in, your muse is hurt, and your lifestyle must adjust accordingly. Why else would you be selling things off?"
'Seething' is an emotion he his becoming very familiar with. He grumbles aloud, "Paula had no right to say anything about problems with Black Pawn."
"Please remember she represents other people besides yourself including sport stars, TV personalities, and Broadway actors such as myself. You were not returning her calls and she was worried, so she reached out to me."
"Don't trust the rumor mill. She's wrong, but I don't want her to know that. As for your financial concerns, I am not about to return to the days of a starving artist. The loft will not be going up for sale. I am still very rich."
"I'm not so sure you aren't already a starving artist. Regardless of your lack of sustenance, I am not the destitute woman who came to you in tears after my former husband absconded with all my money. I can withstand the truth and need to do what I can to help. How drastic do things need to change? Please be honest with me, Richard."
"I am being honest. I am merely selling things that no longer appeal to me. I'm past needing the status symbol of a flashy car or the sentimental pull of toys from a bygone era." He can see the doubt so he swivels to the safe, flips it open and pulls out a stack of tax documents.
"I admit your husband stealing away your life savings reinforced my concerns about money. My own lesson started after spending all the royalties from my first book and getting wiped out after the divorce with Meredith. I saw how quickly money can disappear. I vowed to myself that part of being a good father to Alexis was never having to worry about our financial security. I spend most of my royalties buying stocks, bonds and assets that make money. I bought Amazon stock back when it was just a company selling books and I bought Apple stock because I like gadgets and technology. I bought Google because it is called Alphabet Incorporated. I've picked some duds, but my investment manager has my portfolio outperforming most of the rich ass holes with whom I went to boarding school. It is also full of nicely diversified investments so economic downturns and risks are minimized. The bottom line is that regardless of any future book money, I've got sufficient wealth for at least a dozen of Alexis's grandchildren to get a top notch education and a good start in life."
He pauses to flip open last years tax return and shows her a number. "This is just taxable income - not net worth." He watches with no small amount of pride as she gasps. He will never tell her about he hidden wealth, it's been hard to hold her spending in check as it is, and after seeing this it will be difficult to reign her in.
"While Paula is misinformed as to the particulars with Black Pawn, it is true that the future looks bleak with regards to book royalties. I will probably have to realign some assets and curtail future investing, but not one word of this to Alexis. I mean it, if she gets any idea that there are problems I will be harsh with whomever gives her any idea that there are financial concerns." A rare look of menace accompanies the threat.
A bejewelled arm waves that particular concern off stage, "What happened with the novels? I know you met your deadline and I see you continuing to write, so why is your publisher no longer paying you royalties?"
He sighs. As much as he wants to avoid this conversation, trying to put off his mother will only make the process draw out. "Black Pawn has a new CEO and he wants to make an example of me so all the other author's fall into line. The money is being held in escrow. It's a contract dispute so I told my guy to threaten to sever all ties with them."
"What about Katherine? What does she have to say about the end of Nikki Heat?"
"She will be fine with it. She hated the name and the publicity made her life at work a lot more difficult."
"You haven't told her." It's a statement, not a question. "I'm guessing you also haven't told her about the phone call from that shadowy Mr. Smith. You're nosy around in her mother's murder and haven't told her. Have you learned nothing?"
Her son stares defiantly at her.
"Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"No, I'm trying to stop an evil man from killing."
Martha pauses and evaluates. She's not obtuse, just normally concerned with herself more than others. Right now, she is very concerned with her son. "Darling boy, I have always been frank and unsparing with my observations on life and I won't stop now."
She pauses, debates different ways to deliver the line and settles on bleeding sincerity, "If you are suicidal we need to get you help. There's no shame in it, you've always been sensitive and Lord knows you've been through a lot with Roy being gunned down and Katherine being wounded." She holds up a manicured hand to stop his sputtering protests. "You are not eating which I see as an indication of self-harm. You're carefully disposing of meaningful belongings. You've isolated yourself. You've just told me that your loved ones will be cared for after you're gone. All of these could be explained away but you are turning your back on your life's work - your books. Richard, for the sake of your daughter, let me get you help."
"Wow. I didn't see that one coming." He wants to be angry that his own mother thinks him so weak he wants to run from his problems, but then he chastises himself. Suicide isn't being weak, it's being out of better options. His mother loves him even if they don't say it, they demonstrate it, and this shouts her concern despite the mistaken conclusion.
"I'm not suicidal. I'm not throwing myself in front of bullets indifferent to whether I live or die. I can't explain it, but this feels personal to me, so Beckett isn't really a factor in my decisions. I love Alexis and am being more cautious now than I ever was when I consulted with the NYPD. I don't want to lose my novels but I also don't want to be jerked around by Black Pawn. It is a negotiation tactic, but I'm prepared to back it up and leave the books behind. Your concern is touching but misguided." He takes a deep breath and waits.
"What rational motivation do you have for avoiding Detective Beckett? I know she reached out to you. Alexis told me you've received a letter from her."
The guilt of their recent meeting washes over him and he knows his mother reads the cues. Sometimes her profession of mimicking emotions gives her too much insight. "As usual I'm confused and confounded by my place in her life. I love her more than ever but I'm pushing her away. I've hijacked Johanna's case as my own crusade. I can't see how the story ends until the villain is thwarted. Meanwhile I've banished Kate to the sidelines for her own protection. Did you know she ended up in a wheel chair?"
"No!" Martha's arm flies to her chest with instant sympathy. "Are the injuries permanent?"
"I don't know. She told me about a fall that broke her ankle. Dr. Parish confided a few additional things including they couldn't risk another surgery when her body was still so fragile, so an assessment about a complete recovery is still pending. Lanie said the worst part is that Beckett may be unable to wear high heels any more."
"That poor dear. She always had a strong yet feminine style in her outfits."
"Speaking of Becketts, I need another favor. Can you get tickets to something and take her father out to a Broadway show tonight? Alexis finished up the new photo album for Jim so I was going to pop over there later, but I'm swamped with, uh, stuff."
She's looking at him like he is a 9 year old just caught in a fib. He shuffles papers around so he can avoid her gaze and waits to hear the verdict.
"Perhaps a break from 'stuff' would do you a world of good."
"Mother, please. Jim needs support and distractions from his concern over Kate."
"I have no objections to spending the evening with James Beckett, esquire, if you spend the evening with Katherine Beckett, muse extraordinaire."
"I can't."
"Cannot or will not?"
"Cannot." After his childish blowup at her, he can't bear even to talk to her. He made Beckett cry.
"Pish posh! You can lie to me, but please don't lie to yourself."
"The truth is I'm swamped with things to do. The leads from your students look promising. The story about Bracken's overseas vacation home is especially interesting since nothing showed up under his name, and all the people in the photographs need to be identified. Stuff like this takes tons of time. I know you mean well, but don't push."
After a suitable glare at his evasions she tweaks his nose one more time, "I'm going to go for a nice long drive, zip around a bit and feel young again. Hopefully I get to the car dealership before it closes. Ta-ta!" She jingles the keys and sails out of his office.
What was he thinking? Suddenly Richard Castle is worried if the Ferrari will arrive unscathed.
A/N: Special acknowledgment to the guest reviewers who I cannot thank any other way! Thanks one and all for staying with the story.