Couples
Chapter 109
Ryan points to a semi and a car carrier trailer heading toward the Momentous Mops' van. "What's going on there?"
"The Lorenzos are going to use those to haul the vehicles and everything they can strip from the Atterbury place," Esposito figures. "Better let Beckett know."
Muttering to herself, Kate takes in the message and the attached photos on her phone. "Simon Atterbury would have been lucky to keep his shorts." She alerts Montgomery before making her call to Rick. "Babe, the boys confirmed it's going down. How far out are you?"
Rick checks his GPS. "Two miles, ETA 5 minutes. Am I going to make it?"
"Probably before the boys. But park at least two blocks away and walk in. I don't want anything to spook our targets."
"Copy that."
Rick slides in beside Kate in her unit just as the Momentous Mops van pulls into the Atterbury's service drive. The semi pulls in behind it, with the driver of the car carrier parking as close as possible to the garage. The author notes Ryan and Esposito finding a spot almost a block down the street. "How long are you going to let the Lorenzos' operation run?"
"To charge grand larceny, the value of the items stolen has to exceed $1,000,000," Kate explains. "Simon told me he has five cars and some very valuable antiques and electronics. But he has his mother's jewelry and his stocks and bonds in offsite safe storage. So we're going to have to let the Lorenzos push this pretty far to make sure we gain maximum leverage over the suspects."
"Sounds like it's going to take a while." Rick reaches into his pocket for a Belgian chocolate bar protected by a layer of bubble wrap. "Snack?"
Kate grabs for the confection. "Have I told you I love you?"
"Not since we, uh, you know. Unfortunately, an inappropriate activity in this venue."
Kate sighs as she savors her first bite. "You've got a raincheck."
"I'll hold you to that." Rick declares and pecks her forehead.
In the comfort of his chambers, Markway settles into the leather upholstered chair now molded to his body. He looks up at Eli. "Congratulations. But is your fiancée sure she wants the judge's special cut-rate ceremony? The brides at some of the weddings I've attended want a production that would give Andrew Lloyd Webber angina."
"That's the last thing Lana wants," Eli explains. "She doesn't want to see herself in the media again, except maybe for snapping the cuffs on a dangerous criminal, and I don't think she's even too big on that. She did agree to let Rick Castle throw us a party. He wanted to celebrate our engagement, but it looks like it will be a more quiet substitute for a reception."
"Quiet?" Markway repeats. "Are we talking about the same Rick Castle?"
"For Lana's sake, he's agreed to tone it down. And Kate promised to keep an eye on his plans to prevent them from getting out of hand."
"Kate's the only one who can rein him in. All right, the bargain basement service in my chambers, but tell Rick that I get an invitation to the party. His idea of toned down should still be pretty impressive." Markway checks his watch. "I told the jury we'd resume the trial two minutes from now. We'd better get back out there."
Even Azra doesn't know where she is, other than somewhere in the metropolitan area. The windows of the vehicle she was rushed into after her speech were blacked out. And she could tell that the driver was taking the sort of route used to detect and lose tails. Other than that, she has no idea.
The building she was hustled into is brick, a preferred material since a major New York City fire in the 1800s. It has few distinguishing characteristics and could have been built at any time. The interior of her assigned quarters has a throwback sufficiency. Everything in the kitchen and bathroom works, and the sheets on the bed appear to be fresh. The pantry and refrigerator are stocked with staples and canned goods. A desk holds an aging PC and a pre-flat-screen television sits on a table in front of a non-descript couch.
While the average citizen might not be impressed by the surroundings, they are many levels up from where Azra's spent most of the last few years. "I'll leave you to get settled," an unidentified agent informs her. "We have security throughout the building and on the perimeter. No cell phone or wi-fi. This unit is a Faraday cage. But you have hard-wired Ethernet and cable. The bean counters even sprang for HBO and Showtime. That should get you through the night. At oh-six-hundred tomorrow, we'll be transporting you to the location of your um, makeover."
Azra smiles at him. "You make it sound like I'm getting a new wardrobe. I'll be ready. You have a good day,"
"Um, yeah, you too," the agent responds. He double-checks the lock on the door as he leaves.
Rick observes as one by one the Atterbury vehicles are loaded onto the carrier, checking the market values and keeping a running tally. With the Lorenzos' latest addition to their booty, he realizes it's no longer necessary. "Kate, that's an Aston Martin One-77. It's worth well over a million all by itself."
"Are you sure, Babe?" Kate queries. "If I jump the gun and bring our people in too soon, I'll really screw the pooch."
Rick holds up his phone for her to see the image on the screen. "I'm sure."
"All right." She picks up her radio to call in the marked units waiting in the staging zone and alerts Montgomery and the boys. "Here we go."
The cops took Larry Naismith to the men's room 15 minutes ago, but he feels like he needs to go again. He's been arrested before, even spent some time in jail, but he's never had to face anyone like the woman who's probably the most famous cop in the city. The tall, black, uniformed officer who handcuffed him to a metal table in a weirdly shaped room said Detective Beckett would be in shortly, and a defense attorney is on the way. Larry's bought some Nikki Heat books, mainly for the covers, and skimmed through them. If the model for the gorgeous but tough detective is anything like the one in the stories, he's in for trouble.
Naismith was grateful to Momentous Mops for giving him a job that kept him from violating the terms of his probation. Or he thought it did. By the time he found out what the job really was and that he was working for the Lorenzos, he was scared to death to quit. Maybe he should have anyway. He's never been guilty of anything like grand larceny before. And he is guilty. The cops caught him red-handed. They probably have the whole thing on video. A lawyer, even a good one, can't do much about that. And he hasn't much faith that a public defender will be good.
His only hope is to cooperate and hope that the cops can protect him from the Lorenzos. Even if he doesn't talk, the Lorenzos could have him taken out as a witness. From what he's heard, they've done it before – more than once. He looks up as a young man in a cheap suit and carrying a cheaper briefcase enters the room. That's got to be his lawyer. No doubt the beautiful woman with a badge on her belt who follows is Detective Beckett.