Couples
Chapter 42
The bed beside Kate is too cold. She hasn't heard a peep from Lily, so she doubts Rick went to check on the toddler. She doesn't smell coffee either, which lets out the kitchen. That leaves his office. From the doorway, she can see her husband staring intently at the screen of his laptop. "What are you looking at, Babe?"
"A series of articles by Cecil Newbridge Senior. His son was correct about his dad writing about temples in Thailand. He also wrote about some in Cambodia that his son failed to mention. These are dated over several months. It shouldn't have taken that long. Even with procrastination, I could have turned all of these out in less than a week. The research could have added some time to that, but not nearly as much as he spent."
"Maybe he was playing tourist," Kate suggests. "Didn't you say he liked to explore the world?"
"That's possible, but he didn't write about any other experiences in Thailand. If he was exploring, he would have had a lot of grist for the mill. And from his descriptions, he was familiar with the area. I'm thinking he'd been in Indochina before. There's got to be more to the story, Kate. I need to bone up on the political history in that part of the world. I can get plenty of hits online, probably more than I could read. But I want observations written contemporaneously. That means saying hello to my leonine friends, Patience and Fortitude, at New York's formidable fortress of knowledge. If Meryl isn't available to watch Lily, I'll take her with me. Can't start a kid on libraries too early."
Kate rolls her eyes. "Not one of your kids, anyway."
"Some fathers insist on buying their children catcher's mitts or footballs. I prefer a more literary legacy," Rick declares.
The eyes of the historical librarian, Libby Leibowitz, brighten as Rick wheels Lily's portable stroller toward her desk. With one arm tightly grasping her stuffed companion, Gamoee, the girl gazes around with widening eyes. "I remember when you first brought Alexis," Libby muses, smiling at the child. "She had that same intense look. You also had it the first time we met. What can I do for you, Rick?"
"I want to explore the history of Thailand and Cambodia."
Libby fingers the pencil shoved into her greying bun. "That's a tall order. You're talking about centuries. Any particular period?"
"After the Vietnam War."
"The People's Republic of Kampuchea, the P.R.K., reigned in Cambodia from 1979 to 1989. It was a very transitional time. Do you want to start there?" Libby inquires.
Rick briefly considers the lifespan of Cecil Senior. "As good a place as any."
"Ook?" Lily inquires.
Rick pulls a well-mouthed fabric baby book out of his diaper bag and hands it to her. "Like father, like daughters."
"Ike," Lily agrees.
Rick carefully studies a work on the history of the P.R.K. Following the Khmer Rouge's brutal destruction, one of the regime's primary goals was the restoration of Buddhism and the reopening of temples. Cecil Senior would need to have known about that endeavor as a foundation for his series. The task didn't go smoothly. As its rule went on, the P.R.K. was forced to combat a Khmer Rouge resurgence in an attempt to maintain their own power. Unfortunately, the regime wasn't crazy about intellectuals, killing a lot of them off. It lost many of the minds who might have helped it survive.
It would surprise Rick if the U.S. didn't have fingers in that particular pie. Perhaps some of them were on the hands of Cecil Senior. At the time, some P.R.K. leaders would have looked to the United States as a bulwark against communism.
While embracing other minorities, the P.R.K. came down on the Chinese and restricted the speaking of Mandarin. That would have put it on the same page with U.S. fears of the area coming under communist thrall. Rick can picture adventures of a Derrick Storm predecessor, maybe one named Cecil Newbridge, going head to head against red agents.
The author looks down at his daughter. Having exhausted her interest in her book, Lily is restlessly tugging at the bright blue fur ringing Gamoee's magnificently ugly face. She won't be able to stay still or quiet much longer. Rick's legs could use stretching as well.
One thing Rick never asked Junior was about his father's language skills. That information could be enlightening. He can take Lily outside and make a call.
Sitting atop the impressive steps leading to the library's entrance, with Lily's stroller beside him, Rick pulls out his phone. Before he can locate Cecil Junior in his contacts, the singular ringtone for Werkill blares. "Good thing we weren't inside," he comments to Lily as he takes the call. "Castle."
"Rick," Werner replies expansively, "Louis and I just received a shipment of extraordinary pottery. We believe it's the perfect thing to complement the fantasy atmosphere you're attempting to create for your new venture. Shall I have samples sent to Imagination Patch or your home?"
"Neither," Rick replies. "I'll pick them up. You can leave them with the receptionist in the lobby for me."
"Fine," Werner agrees. "We'll have them ready within the hour."
"Right," Rick acknowledges before terminating the call. He turns to Lily. "Looks like I'll be putting off my call Cecil the Younger." He sniffs. "And we need to find a changing station."
"Ang," Lily confirms.
"He's really on the hook," Werner gleefully reports to Fishkill. "Pack some of that new kitschy crap up, and I'll take it downstairs."
Closing yet another report folder, Kate sighs as she answers a call from Rick. "I'm supposed to pick up the dishes we're going to have C.S.U. test. Shouldn't you come along to preserve the chain of custody or something?" he wonders.
"I definitely should," Kate agrees. "Do you have Lily with you?"
"I do. She was great in the library, but she needs to run around for a while before sitting in the car again. If I meet you in about an hour, it should work out about right."
"See you then," Kate promises.
Lanie examines the lab results on the autopsy she did the day before. They're what she expected. The dead man's enzymes confirm a heart attack. He also has the lipid levels to go with one. At least she doesn't have to worry about calling Beckett or the boys. The death is open and shut. She can write it up in time to attack her own doggy bag for lunch.
Another body came in a half-hour before. A motorist found it by the side of the road, and there's no obvious cause of death. It will be up to her to find one. She's grateful for having plenty to fill her time.
The days until Lorne settles in New York seem endless. If she didn't have anything to do, they'd be impossible. "Girl, you've got it bad," she lectures herself. Suddenly realizing those words are exactly what she said to Kate about Rick.
Lanie never saw herself with that kind of connection to a man. She hadn't felt this way before Lorne. But then Kate hadn't anticipated falling for Rick the way she did, either. The stubborn detective fought her feelings tooth and nail. It didn't matter. She was hopelessly in love.
Rick said, "The heart wants what the heart wants." For the first time, Lanie can feel the truth in that. Lorne's heart seems to want what hers does. She really hopes so, because if it doesn't, Kate might have to arrest Lorne for negligent homicide. And Lanie will be the one needing an autopsy.