Not Guilty
By
UCSBdad
Disclaimer: I am not guilty of owning Castle. Rating: K Time: An AU period a few days after the end of the last episode of season one.
"Waal, howdy there, folks. Y'all need a lift somewhere? If so, I'm Jim McGovern, proprietor of EQ Aviation Services and owner, with the bank, of the sweetest Cessna Citation X in all of Texas. By the way, my nickname is Earthquake McGoon." He laughed. "That's where the EQ comes from."
McGovern was a good four inches taller than Castle, and at least a hundred pounds heavier. He was wearing cowboy boots, baggy khakis and a faded aloha shirt that struggled to cover his vast belly. His round face was covered with stubble and he had missed a haircut or two, if not many meals.
"I'm Rick Castle and this is Kate Beckett. We'd like to go to Teterboro, New Jersey. Can you get us there?"
"Why, young fellow, I can get you into any place on Earth you'd ever want to go and some you'd never want to go to."
Kate glared at Castle when he asked to go to New Jersey, but didn't want to say anything in front of McGovern.
McGovern pulled out some papers and then reached under his desk and brought out a bottle of beer,
"Paperwork is thirsty business." He said, popping the top off the beer.
As soon as he did, the door to the back office flew open and a tiny woman stormed in. She couldn't have been more than five feet tall and weighed no more than a hundred pounds. She wore cowboy boots, jeans, and a western shirt.
"James Bernard McGovern!" She yelled. "Do you remember what Dr. Hobbes told you about your blood pressure, your weight and drinking beer."
"I do, Sweetie Pie, I just…"
"Don't you Sweetie Pie me!"
"I was just offering our new customer a beer. He looks kinda parched."
He handed the beer to Rick, who took it.
"Aren't you going to offer the lady something, James?"
"Would you like something, Ms. Beckett?"
"A bottled water if you have one."
Sweetie Pie went to a battered refrigerator and handed Kate a bottled water, nice and cold, too.
"You go get the plane ready and I'll do the paperwork."
"Yes, Sweetie Pie."
"And don't bother looking for the beer in the port wheel well, or the one under the co-pilot's seat, or the one behind the radio, or any of the others."
"No, Sweetie Pie." McGoon said as he left.
The paperwork was minimal once Castle's substantial credit was established, and Sweetie Pie didn't ask if they had any dangerous weapons. In minutes they were headed for the aircraft.
"Why are we going to Teterboro, New Jersey?"
"I'm not sure Grogan and his friends are through with us, and if they aren't, they might have the New York airports watched, and Newark, too."
"Or they just might have our friend Earthquake call ahead."
Castle just shrugged.
"If we assume everything is a part of a vast, insidious plot, we're screwed whatever we do."
"Aren't vast, insidious plots your default explanation for everything?"
"True. If it is a truly vast, insidious plot, then Alexis is probably the mastermind. I've always suspected she has some plan to take over the world."
Kate had to laugh.
"Alexis? Taking over the world?"
"Can you think of anyone who could run the place better than she could?"
Kate laughed again, but conceded the point.
Once aboard and in the air, Earthquake asked Castle to open a panel in the back of the plane. There Castle found a six pack of beer.
"You and your girlfriend take a couple and give the rest to me." Earthquake said.
And so they flew to Teterboro, New Jersey. Castle then rented a car.
"Okay, give me your Glock. The one Grogan used."
"Why?"
"I know a guy. He can take the barrel of your Glock out and put in a new one. He can also stamp the same serial number on the barrel that's on your pistol. That way no one can match your weapon to the bullets that killed Coonan."
"That won't work, Castle. The NYPD fires each weapon before it's issued and keeps a record of the bullet's ballistics and striations."
Rick shook his head.
"And no matter what they find in the records, the bullets from your Glock won't match those that killed Coonan. That's what's called reasonable doubt."
"And how am I supposed to explain that all of a sudden my bullets don't match the NYPD's records?"
"You don't. You, Detective Beckett, are innocent until proven guilty. Leave it up to our lawyers to muddy the waters. That's what they're paid for"
"Our lawyers? Castle, I can take care of myself."
"Has it occurred to you that we're in this together? The pizza delivery kid saw us together in the motel in Texas. Earthquake and Sweetie Pie saw us, too. I'll bet that any US Attorney who looks will find the whole thing was paid for through shadowy overseas banks in countries with really strict banking secrecy laws. Just the sort that a multimillionaire author with strange connections would use to take care of the man who killed his girlfriend's mother."
"I'm not your girlfriend." Beckett said sharply.
"Do you want to try to convince a jury of that? We were seen together in a motel room in Texas. I flew you back to New Jersey on a pricey private jet."
Kate said nothing, but handed over her Glock.
"I called my guy from the plane while you were asleep. I'll be back in two hours or more."
"You want me to just wait here? Forget about it. I'm going with you."
"No. If he sees anyone with me, he won't do it. Look, if you see anything, just drive away and go to the loft. I'm taking a cab anyway." He reached into his pocket and pulled a key off his keyring. Here's the loft key. Please, Beckett, don't call anyone and don't open the door for anyone but me. Okay?"
"Okay." She didn't like it, but she hadn't liked anything about this whole affair.
But, true to his promise, Castle was back in just over two hours.
"Okay, here's your Glock back and I got you a hundred rounds of 9mm ammo." He handed her a plastic box with an unfamiliar script on it.
"Where's the ammo from?"
"Jordan, I think. Maybe Saudi Arabia. But it's top of the line."
Kate loaded all of her clips as Castle drove away.
"God, I can't wait to get home." She said.
"Beckett, will you stay at the loft for a few days?"
"Oh, really?" She said, raising an eyebrow.
"Really. I won't be there. I know some guys who might be able to shed some light on what happened to us. But, again, they won't talk in front of witnesses."
"Is that really necessary?"
"Do you trust Grogan and his merry men to have our best interests at heart? I'm going to call a friend and have some people back up Eduardo, the doorman, for a few days. Please stay at the loft, don't call anyone and don't go out. Okay?"
"Okay."
Castle was gone for four days. During that time, Kate had almost picked up the phone to call her dad or Lanie, and she had thought about going for a walk. Anyplace but the loft. But every time she thought about it, the image of Grogan's people shooting down all of those people came back to her. She'd stay where she was. And she'd keep her Glocks handy.
Then Castle called.
"Chinese?"
"Chinese? Who? What?" Kate was confused.
"Would you like me to bring some Chinese take out? I'm close to the Golden Pagoda. What would you like?"
Kate reeled off a list of her favorites.
"Okay, I'll be there in about an hour."
"Castle, what have you…?" But he had already hung up.
When Castle arrived at the loft, Kate dragged him to the dinner table.
"You don't get a bite until you start talking." She said, pushing him into a chair and taking the bag of food to her side of the table.
"No fair. I've been working hard for days without rest or food. I'm starved. "Castle did his best to look exhausted and famished. He didn't do it very well.
"Talk." Kate growled, popping a pot sticker into her mouth.
"Okay. There is a Michael "Mick" Grogan who works for the DEA, but he's a forensic chemical analyst in their Miami office. Plus, he's sixty-one years old and Black. There may, or may not, be a Lourdes Madero working for the DEA, but my contact couldn't find her. That doesn't mean she doesn't work for the DEA, but it is kind of suspicious."
"You think they're phonies?"
Castle licked his lips and stared at the food. Kate tossed him a pot sticker.
"I don't think they're DEA, but Almeida still works for the Treasury, but he hasn't been at his regular job and no one seems to know where he is."
"A rogue agent?" Kate asked, and pushed the mu shu pork towards Castle.
"I don't think so. I remember that I thought that both Grogan and Madero were odd. They didn't act like cops at all. And I noticed something about the Spanish speakers in the helicopter with us."
"What?" Kate asked. "I thought they were Mexican police of some sort."
Castle looked at the sweet and sour pork and said nothing. Kate put some on his plate.
"Did you notice their tattoos?"
"Lots of guys have tattoos. It's all part of being macho."
"But three of them had tattoos with the Columbian flag. The US military and CIA is very close to the Columbian government."
"Really? You think the CIA is involved in this?" Kate started to pull the mu shu pork back, but Castle was too quick.
"Do you think the CIA isn't involved in wars all over the world? Or that they don't have paramilitary people and hired guns."
Kate had to admit he had a point.
"So, your theory is that a CIA hit squad decided to take out my mom's killer and decided to bring us along? Shouldn't they be organizing a regime change someplace?" She said skeptically.
Rick reached for the egg rolls. Kate let him have one.
"The Mexican police, the real Mexican police, arrived about three hours after we left. Someone tipped them off. Dick Coonan was traveling on an authentic Irish passport under the name of Terence Dunphy. No known next of kin, or even an emergency contact. If no one picks up the body, it'll be buried in an unmarked grave by the Mexican government."
"Really? There's a massacre of maybe twenty people and the authorities don't do an autopsy and collect evidence?"
"This is Mexico. That wasn't even a big massacre by local standards. And the authorities think they know who did it. The dead woman was Dolores Fuentes. Her big brother runs the Durango Cartel. There's already been a massacre of people from the rival Pacifico Cartel. The authorities are keeping their heads down until the gunfire stops. If it ever does."
"And?"
Kate pushed several cartons of food towards Castle.
"Dick Coonan has a brother, Jack. Jack Coonan is an enforcer for a man called Finn Rourke, the head of the Westies. That's an Irish gang out of Hell's Kitchen."
"Try to remember I am a cop."
"Right. But now that Dick is dead, people are willing to talk about him. At least to me, and as long as it goes no further than this room. Agreed?"
Kate hated to agree, but she knew she'd never get anyone even remotely connected with the Westies to talk on the record, or even off the record.
"I agree."
"In public, Dick was a real humanitarian. He built schools and clinics in Afghanistan. But, according to my sources, Dick was making money from his "humanitarian" activities. Money from drugs, specifically, heroin. And he had a side business as a killer for hire. Now, most of Dick's work in Afghanistan was around Herat, in the east of Afghanistan. That's close to Iran and the people in that end of Afghanistan are very friendly with Iran. Any ideas yet, Detective?"
Kate nodded slowly.
"Coonan is making deals with Afghan warlords who are friendly with Iran, both of whom cause problems for the US. The CIA doesn't like this and decide to make an example of Coonan. But why involve us?"
"Because the CIA is not supposed to assassinate US citizens abroad. Lots of people get very upset. Congress gets very upset. The media gets very upset."
"So, if the Durango Cartel figures out the Pacifico Cartel didn't do it, the CIA has a back up explanation. The CIA can blame the murder of Coonan and the Mexicans on an angry NYPD detective because Coonan killed her mom."
"And that detective has a boyfriend who has the money and connections to pull off a massacre like that." Castle added.
"You are not my boyfriend, Castle."
"Believe me, if this ever gets to court, they'll have a record of every coffee I've ever bought you, plus evidence we shared a night in a cheap motel in Texas."
"So, if anyone actually looks into this, we're screwed."
"Maybe. They won't be able to conclusively tie your gun to Coonan's death and it looks like blaming the Pacifico Cartel is working perfectly."
Castle stopped eating and looked off into the distance, thinking.
"I wonder. Did Grogan set this all up?"
"Of course, he did, Castle. Or someone above him."
"No. I mean did he set it up so you went to Mexico with him, knowing I'd go along with you and that if anything went wrong, I'd do anything to keep you safe."
"Think about it, Beckett. If Grogan had said they had a hot lead on your mom's death, but would you please not get involved, you would have agreed, right?"
Kate nodded.
"Instead, he threatens you with obstruction of justice, calls you Sweetie and refers to your cute little…"
He stopped when she glared at him.
"Well, it isn't cute, it's spectacular."
She suppressed a smile.
"Go on, Castle."
"That kind of treatment is going to guarantee that you'll track me down to find out what happened."
Kate nodded slowly.
"Grogan doesn't need to have me dragged down to the Federal Building to see you get busted for obstruction. But, once I'm there, I'm going to do my damndest to stop him. And that gets the two of us to Mexico. And he's smart enough to know I'll have your Glock fixed so the bullets from it won't match those in Coonan. The CIA gets the best of both worlds for the back up explanation. They have rumors that someone else did in Coonan, but no real proof we did it, or anyone else. Brilliant."
"Evil, Castle, evil."
"So, all we have to do is hope no one in Mexico looks too deeply into this."
Castle ate for a bit, then stopped.
"Beckett. I told you already that I had planned to look into your mom's case just before the Feds had me do it. That was wrong and I apologize. This is all my fault, and I understand why you don't want to work with me anymore after what I did. In fact, I think it would be best if I quit…"
"Forget it, Castle. I wouldn't expect you to get sent to prison on a bogus narcotics charge just to protect me. Plus, the man who killed my mother is dead. And thinking about doing something is not a crime. You're not guilty on that count."
He smiled.
"Does this mean I can show up for work with you tomorrow?"
"Of course not." She snapped. She waited as his smile faded and then added. "I'm still on vacation and you owe me a week in the Bahamas, remember?"
The End
Author's note #1: Next up is The Woman in the Yellow dress, a Caskett mystery set in early Season Five. There'll be a murder, of course. Also an IT billionaire with enemies, some faces from Caskett's past, a painting that everyone says is only a brilliant forgery, and a special guest appearance by one of my favorite characters played by Stana Katic, Simone Renoir, the ageless vampire. This may take some time to write as I'm headed for London for a month to see the family, and then I'll be off to Arizona for the winter.
Author's note #2. As some of you know, I occasionally like to give my fictional characters the names of real people. James B. McGovern, AKA Earthquake McGoon, was a CIA pilot killed in 1954 flying supplies to the French garrison at Dien Bien Phu during their Vietnam war. He is considered the first of more than 58,000 Americans killed in that war.