Flu
Chapter 80
"Our boy's been busy," Reynolds notes, examining the contents of their prisoner's rucksack as Kate lays them out on a table. "Not very practical, though. He didn't even bring a snack. A teenager couldn't go for long that way."
"Maybe he raided the pantries of the apartments he broke into," Kate suggests. "The way he was smirking before we picked him up, he looked satisfied enough."
"After getting through all that snow to catch him, I could use something satisfying myself. I saw the comfort food truck coming this way. Do you want anything?" Reynolds queries.
As she visualizes the orange goo of macaroni and cheese, Kate's stomach protests. "No, I'm good. You go ahead, Reynolds. I want to finish inventorying this stuff."
Reynolds shrugs. "You're the boss."
As soon as the elevator doors close on her temporary partner, Kate pulls a packet of crackers she found in the breakroom out of her pocket and stuffs them in her mouth. The saltines calm her nausea enough for her to get through her work. She really should have stayed away from the cookies Rick made by grinding up all the candy in his stocking and mixing it into Toll House dough. But they were great, especially the bits of peppermint stick.
She's no expert on gems, but on resuming her examination of the stolen goods, Kate notices that most of them are just costume jewelry. A couple of pieces are probably worth enough to qualify as grand theft, but the rest wouldn't even be worth insuring. The kid was one heck of a skier, but as a burglar, he was a bust."
Lana clips her radio to her parka and turns to a rookie assigned to her ski team. "We've got another one, two blocks west. Are you ready?"
"His eager, if slightly chapped face, bobs up and down. Yes, Ma'am."
Skis are still propped at the entrance to a building Lana enters, and she follows a wet trail to an apartment where a girl, who by Lana's estimate, can't be more than fourteen, is rifling through drawers. Undergarments arc to a scarred hardwood floor. "Come on!" the teen whines, "you must have left something. Kyle said you only had one suitcase."
Lana raises her weapon, praying that her suspect won't do anything to make her use it. "Police. On the ground. Hands on top of your head."
The girl stares gap-mouthed at Lana before bursting into tears. "No one was supposed to know I was here. He promised!"
"On the floor, hands on your head," Lana repeats.
"Please," the girl begs, sinking to her knees. "I didn't even take anything. My parents will kill me. You have to give me a break."
With the rookie still aiming his gun at the girl, Lana cuffs the tearfully complying teen. "You tell the detectives all about the Kyle who made you that promise, and maybe they'll give you one."
Kate drags into the loft and drops her damp jacket on the chair next to the door. Rick wraps his arms around her, tucking her head beneath the curve of his jaw. "You look exhausted. I have a fresh pot of coffee. You want some?"
Kate's insides clench at the usually tempting aroma of Rick's brew. "No, thanks. I want to put my feet up. Maybe some tea."
"Tea," Rick repeats. "Sure, if that's what you want. We have some of Mother's youthful energy blend."
"How about the plain stuff, like they serve at diners?"
"Ugh! That abomination is made from the floor-sweepings of tea warehouses. How about Earl Grey? It keeps Captain Picard going strong."
"Fine, Earl Grey, but put some sugar in it."
Rick's eyebrows rise at Kate's unusual request. "OK. You relax. Earl Grey, hot with sugar, coming right up."
"Hard day?" Rick asks, handing Kate a warm mug and pulling up an ottoman next to the sofa where she's stretched out.
Kate takes a sip of soothing liquid. "Would you believe a teenage bandit on skis? He was apparently a member of a whole ring of them. The brass scraped together a force of skiing cops to round them up. Lana Springer is on it. Last I heard, a kid she collared was about to spill her guts about who the ringleader is. The detectives at Lana's precinct are handling it."
"It looks like for once you're glad someone else is taking the lead on a case," Rick observes.
"I'm not sorry," Kate confides. "But, I am curious about what kind of asshole sends kids out in the snow to do his dirty work for him."
"Sounds like New York has a frosty Fagin. Ooh, now I'm curious too. A character like that would be worth at least a chapter."
With a smile tugging at her lips, Kate pokes Rick's chest. "Stealing from Charles Dickens?"
Rick jumps to his feet. "Kate, I am appalled and deeply wounded that you would suggest such a thing. I don't steal. I pay homage. And anyway, the three chapters I wrote today are pure Castle."
Kate reaches for his hand to tug him back to his seat. "And you are definitely one of a kind."
"The world couldn't handle another one. Oh, but by the way, before you get too comfortable on the couch, you might want to relocate to the bedroom if you're serious about getting some rest. As you're well aware, the power is still out in much of the city, and Mother has invited several of her fellow thespians who would otherwise be in the dark, to share in the benefits of a building with its own generator. She said something about re-imagining a scene. That could take a while. And she wants me to feed them too. I have a big pot of beans and veggies on the stove. Half of Mother's friends are vegans, and she doesn't always know which half. If we get meat eaters, I can add some hot animal flesh to their portions. Would you like to curl up with something warm beside your tea?"
"How about my husband?"
"I meant to put in your mouth. Mm, perhaps a discussion for another moment. Seriously Kate, you still look a little, for lack of a better word, wan."
"I'll be fine, Babe. But maybe I'll grab a nap, and we can get together after Martha's held court."
"Sounds good. I could even use the time to rough out a chapter about a band of skiing junior brigands."
"You might want to wait until we catch our modern-day Fagin."
Rick grins. "Or see how close I can come to describing him without the N.Y.P.D.'s help. That could be a fun exercise. A creative endeavor will be the perfect excuse for separating myself from Mother's assemblage. And I can gather the love of my life to my bosom after the members depart."
Kate snorts. "Don't get carried away, Babe. I'm taking a nap, not going to Mars. Any gathering you do means walking three feet to our bedroom."
"Longest three feet in the world." A cacophony of stomping boots sounds from the hall outside the loft. "The ravenous horde has arrived. I need to go lock the liquor cabinet. Last time Mother's friends got into it, there were lime shards in the wallpaper."
Kate waves him away. "Go!" She pushes herself up from the couch with both hands before grabbing her tea for a quick retreat. She really can use a nap. She's not looking forward to another day of snow duty, even if she can let Reynolds do most of the work. Maybe they'll be lucky enough to capture Fagin. Grilling the not-so-mastermind – now that would be fun.
