Couples

Chapter 130

Kate long ago lost track of how many times she's had to knock on a door to deliver bad news. She found a Nestor Pettigrew in Lenore Pettigrew's phone contacts. A few minutes of research revealed him to be Lenore's brother. As far as Kate could tell, Lenore doesn't have living parents or any other siblings.

The man that answers the door has the same dark hair and high cheekbones as Lenore. As he stares at the badge on Kate's belt, his eyes flash with anger. "Something's happened to Lenore."

"Mr. Pettigrew," Kate responds. "I'm Detective Kate Beckett and I'm sorry to have to tell you that…."

"My sister is dead," he interrupts. "I warned her to be careful, to go somewhere they couldn't find her or stay with me for protection. But she was too stubborn. She was sure we'd win the fight in court, and everything would be over. She should have known they'd kill her over the land. They've always killed our people over land."

"Mr. Pettigrew, I'm sorry for your loss. But I need you to tell me who you're talking about. Who do you think killed your sister?"

Nestor waves Kate inside and motions her to a straight wood chair at an age-scarred wooden table. "I don't think, I know. Lenore is –was – of the Lenape tribe, as am I. Our D.N.A. confirms it and our research showed that we're descended from the ancestors that the Dutch invaders claimed they bought Manhattan from. But that was never true. My people were mostly friendly to the new arrivals and gave them use of some land. They never sold it. Maybe you could have called what they offered a short-term lease.

"But as my people were pushed out or slaughtered, a few documents survived. One of them showed a grant-back to our tribe of land some of the settlers ceased to use. Lenore was helping to till a plot for a community garden. She found it buried inside an old chest. Wait a minute." Nestor pulls a map out of a drawer and lays it before Kate. He points to an area outlined in red. Tribal historians said the document Lenore discovered gave this portion of Manhattan back to the Lenape."

Kate stares at the map. "That's some of the most expensive real estate in the city, maybe the country. Are you saying that the Lenape tribe rightfully owns it?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Nestor confirms. "And if the courts were to acknowledge that ownership, those who are profiting off stolen land could stand to lose millions if not billions of dollars."

Kate nods. "But it all hinges on the document Lenore hid somewhere?"

"We turned a certified copy over to the court when an attorney that specializes in tribal claims filed the paperwork. But Lenore had the original. So even if our adversaries could somehow discredit the copy, as long as the original survived, the evidence would be against them."

"That makes sense," Kate considers. "Lenore's killer or killers tore up her apartment looking for something. Why would she keep a priceless document there? Why not a bank vault or secure storage facility?"

"Because employees of such places can be bribed. But a murderer couldn't have found it at her apartment either. It wasn't there."

"So, where is it?" Kate presses.

Nestor's dark eyes narrow. "Police also have a long history of accepting bribes, Detective Beckett. I'd be foolish to entrust you or anyone else with that secret. And you shouldn't need it to solve my sister's murder. As they say in the movies, Detective, 'follow the money.'"

C.S.U. Chief Carl Osnitz hands a cardboard carrier with a vocally unhappy Felicia inside to Rick. "We called the vet who takes care of the N.Y.P.D.'s horses to swab her mouth and claws and comb any evidence out of her fur. Fortunately, she came prepared with protective gloves and a tranquilizer. Felicia was not happy with the process. And now that we can analyze whatever evidence she carried, we can't keep her here. If you didn't take her, we would have had to call the kitty police. I would have hated to do that. I have three cats of my own, Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail."

"You named your cats after Peter Rabbit's siblings? Why?" Rick inquires.

"I've always loved Beatrix Potter books, particularly the illustrations. I have several on the wall of my apartment. But her book about a cat, Tom Kitten, was really about manners. And my cats aren't keen on that subject," Osnitz explains.

The side of Rick's mouth quirks upward. "I can think of any number of humans with the same unfortunate propensity. Well, Felicia and I will be off to a cat vet, and then I'll be taking her to my eagerly awaiting daughter."

"Alexis wants a cat?" Osnitz questions. "I thought she had her hands full with school and mothering a dorm."

"She does. Felicia is for my younger daughter, Lily. She's quite the animal lover. But this will be her first of the alive and prowling variety."

"Good luck. Felicia's not shy about expressing her opinions."

Rick chuckles. "Neither is Lily."

With Lily held tightly in Rick's arms, he and Kate watch as Felicia explores the territory of her new corral, carefully sniffing remnants of human scent. Finally, she settles down into her new cat bed, looks up expectantly, and meows.

"Feli-sa hungry," Lily declares.

"That would appear to be an almost constant condition," Rick observes. "I thought cats are supposed to be finicky."

Kate rolls her eyes. "She was probably spoiled by her menu from Imagination Patch."

"Well, when I bought the corral, I got a bunch of cans of that gourmet cat food. Given that it's more expensive than people-food, I hope she enjoys it." He looks at his daughter. "Want to help me put her dinner in her dish?"

Lily grins. "Feed Kitty!"

Setting Lily down to run ahead, Rick strides toward the kitchen. He wonders if, after a few iterations, Lily won't find "feed Kitty" nearly as exciting.

Christine was both embarrassed and surprised by Ben's hurried entrance the night before. She was even more surprised that he helped her clean up after their late-night Kitchen Klash practice session. They both get up early, and since he has to get so much dough ready at Pot Pie Palace, he may rise even before she does to start prep at Imagination Patch. Not that she'd know. Other than his confession to Madison about experiencing his own immigration problems, he's said nothing about his private life.

She googled him and found a Wikipedia article listing his various culinary achievements, but it held no personal information other than his Scottish origins. With Ben, the tropes about Scots being mechanical fall by the wayside. She's fixed appliances that seized while they were practicing, while he seemed helpless. And once, one of the writers in residence had to help Ben start his car.

Maybe that's why Ben went into cooking. He didn't fit the mold his family expected. That's a common enough story. Maybe Ben will loosen up and tell her about it sometime, but Christine's not holding her breath.

What she is doing is working on a new spice mix for their final dish. They'd been staying with traditional East Asian flavors for the stir fry. But she's considering incorporating notes from Southwestern Asia. That would mean adding some extra heat. The problem is, the chefs never know who the judges on Kitchen Clash will be. Of the ones she's seen, some love heat and consider many offerings too bland. Others hate it. Still others, find something in the middle uninspired. And Ben is giving her a big say in the choice. The responsibility is tremendous. Christine just hopes she's up to it.