Couples
Chapter 39
Kate's doubts are evident, even through the speaker of Rick's cellphone. "You're going to see Werner and Fishkill? By yourself?"
"We're supposed to be talking about my restaurant, Kate. They know you're a cop. Having you there again, on short notice, in the middle of the afternoon wouldn't look right."
"I don't like it, Babe."
"I'll be fine," Rick insists. "I'm the goose they expect to lay golden eggs for them. They're not about to hurt me."
"Unless they plan on cooking the goose," Kate argues. "At least have your phone on in your pocket so I can hear what's going on and record what they say. New York is a one-party consent state. What I get can be evidence."
"I can do that," Rick agrees. "But I don't think you'll get much at this stage. They'll still be feeling me out to see just how clueless I am and how they can use me."
"That's not encouraging," Kate protests. "Just be careful. If anything doesn't feel right, get out of there."
"OK," Rick agrees. "Always nice to know you care."
Kate blows a kiss through the phone. "I do more than care. Watch that great ass of yours. I have plans for it later."
"I shall proceed with the utmost caution," Rick promises.
Dana settles back on his stool to admire the automated microparticle analysis tool he's assembled. The instrument will speed the identification of trace materials tremendously, but only if he chooses the right parameters. Discovering what those will be for a wide range of applications will fill the rest of his summer. The project may even stretch into the fall semester. And he can share his ideas with Alexis.
On orders from Osnitz, she's had to be mum about what she'd been doing at C.S.U. lately. But the chief finally gave her the go-ahead to discuss it, as long as she didn't go into specifics of a particular case. Dana could see her loosen up as they could talk freely again. But she's holding back on something again, and he doesn't think it's lab work.
He could feel the change at the celebration of Martha Rodgers' marriage to Craig Daniels. Despite her genuine happiness for her grandmother, Alexis still seemed sad. When he asked her if something was wrong, she said everything was great. He wasn't convinced. Sooner or later, she'll come out with what's bothering her. But in the meantime, hamburgers and banana splits for dinner later won't hurt. And the student union has those thick fries she loves.
Werner rises from behind his desk to extend his hand to Rick. "Castle, glad you could make it. Please have a seat. My partner will be along in a moment. Now, until he comes in, let me give you the rundown on our preliminary research concerning your restaurant. As you may have realized on your own, it will be a niche business rather than one with wide appeal. Most people like to know what they're eating. That's why restaurants have printed menus."
"Really?" Rick challenges. "Do you do your own food shopping, Werner? I do. In fact, I used the supermarket to teach my older daughter shapes and colors and start her on reading. I'm already working with her baby sister. And you know what I rarely see?"
"What is that, Castle?" Werner inquires.
"Anyone reading a label, even in the most upscale market. But occasionally, I'll see someone pinch or sniff something. For some reason, people like to squeeze melons."
Entering the room, Fishkill barely suppresses a guffaw.
Rick nods at the man's arrival but continues with what he's saying. "But something interesting happens when a sales rep sets up one of those sample giveaway stations. When customers taste the offerings, they try to figure out what's in the little cups, whether they like the food or not. And restaurant diners enjoy tasting menus and little plates. They love trying to figure out what everything is. I've also seen that phenomenon with pub customers eating appetizer platters. They even argue about what's in the sauce on the hot wings."
"What's your point, Castle?" Fishkill asks.
"What I'm saying is that people love a mystery. If they didn't, I'd never sell a book. And if we give them one that titillates and engages the senses, they'll love it even more. That's beyond niche appeal. It embraces primeval responses. And if you can't understand that, perhaps it would be best to end our discussions now."
"No, no," Werner interjects. "You've made a convincing argument, very convincing, Mr. Castle. I'm Gunther, and he," Werner indicates Fishkill, "is Louis. May I call you Richard?"
"My mother calls me Richard. You can call me Rick. So, then, Gunther, Louis, how do you propose to proceed?"
"We could start with investing for a 40% stake," Werner suggests.
"I'm not a chef struggling to pay off culinary school. I don't need your money," Rick declares. "If necessary, I can self-fund. What I need is your expertise in promoting revolutionary dining concepts. How will you lure the denizens of the Big Apple into my establishment?"
Fishkill raises his eyebrows at Werner. "We have extensive contacts in hospitality marketing," Gunther jumps in. "We also have several food critics on the line."
"However," Fishkill adds, "we specialize in handling the supply chain. We can provide you with whatever you need at very advantageous rates. We also have access to unique plating that will intrigue your patrons even further."
"Now you're beginning to make your case," Rick acknowledges. "Put together a presentation of what products you offer for a unique dining adventure. We'll figure out where to go from there. I'll expect it by next week. And I'd appreciate receiving some samples of your wares as well."
"You'll get them," Fishkill promises.
"Did you get all that?" Rick asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he bounds to the sidewalk.
"I did, Babe," Kate responds. "Honestly, I didn't know you could be such a hardass."
"Who would know better than you?" Rick teases. "I was saying whatever I could to steer Werkill into giving us a chance to test their pottery offerings. Now we have one."
"That's right," Kate agrees. "Whatever they hand over, they hand over willingly, so we can legally have it analyzed. No lawyer could get the results thrown out of court. But really, Babe, 'Werkill?'"
"It was that or 'Fisher,' which would be an insult to anglers like Montgomery. But I don't think anyone's about to ship those two."
Kate blows air through pursed lips. "God, I hope not."
Alexis dips the tip of a long spoon into strawberry syrup atop a scoop of vanilla ice cream. "This is great!"
"You don't look like you're enjoying it much," Dana observes. "Something's been bothering you since your grandmother got married. What's going on?"
"I guess I'm jealous," Alexis confesses. "Last night, Gram and Craig were together, and you and I weren't."
"Alexis, they both have great careers and can do what they want. Even with the Lee award and my stipend, I'm barely making it on my own. You're working for C.S.U. for free, and your dad is still paying your expenses. In another year, I'll have graduated. Even if I get a good job, I'll still be going for a master's or straight for a Ph.D. You're solidly lined up on C.S.U. But it will still be four years before you can qualify as a criminalist. And you also might want to go to grad school. I'd love to wake up with you every morning forever. Tell me a way we can tie the knot that makes sense, and we can apply for a license tomorrow."
"I don't know," Alexis admits, "but I'm working on it."