California Dreaming

Chapter 13

Since he started rebuilding his house, John's made it his business to recognize every vehicle regularly in the neighborhood and be aware of any new ones. He managed to head off vandalism of his work a couple of times and also prevented a few porch snatches for his neighbors. Of course, not every strange car or truck is a threat. His neighbors have visitors. But the visitors don't usually spend time sitting in their automobiles.

John noticed what would typically be an inconspicuous vehicle, a dark green Ford Taurus, parked across the street down the block from his home. Someone is behind the wheel, but John can't make out much about the driver, other than he appears to be male and tall. John makes a mental note to check in a little while to see if the suspicious presence is still there. He can heat up some leftovers first.

Jack watches as the man who may be his son lets himself in to a newly painted and well-landscaped home. Now what? He's always been good at improvising. Coming up with an excuse to knock on the door might work for a minute or two but would be unlikely to spark meaningful conversation. And a cop would know better than to believe most of the well-worn dodges like looking for a gas leak or a free pest inspection. John would check, and Jack doesn't have a legend prepared. He can sit and think about it for a while. At least he knows where John Nolan works and lives. That's a start.

After finishing up a plastic container of spaghetti with meat sauce and the last brownie Rick and Kate brought, John decides to check on the Taurus. Peering out a window, he can see the vehicle is still there, along with its occupant. With his off-duty weapon reassuringly at his back, he decides to investigate. Cautiously, John knocks on the driver's side window. As the glass descends, the look on the white-haired driver's face is one of, what, relief? "I've noticed you've been sitting here for some time. Do you need help?" John offers.

"In a way," Jack responds. "I've been trying to figure out how to approach you. I'm Richard Castle's father. And if some information I've gathered in the last few days is accurate, I'm yours too."

Silently regarding the man's face, John matches it to the description Rick gave him. It fits, everything fits, down to being plugged in enough to know who John is and where to find him. John is more than a little disquieted by that last part, but his discomfiture can't compete with his curiosity. He gestures toward his house. "You might as well come in. We have a lot to talk about."

Nodding, Jack closes the window and opens the car door. He follows John back to the house and takes the seat that John indicates at the kitchen counter.

"Coffee?" John asks, pointing to a pot he started when he came home.

"Sure, thanks," Jack agrees, looking around. "Nice place for a cop."

"I put a lot of work into it," John explains. "But if you know I'm a cop, then maybe you also know I have 20 years of construction experience. Rick says you pick up on a lot."

"So you've talked about me with Richard," Jack responds. "I'm not sure if that makes this easier or harder."

John shrugs. "Maybe both."

"To answer your question," Jack continues, "I found out you are a cop and your name at the same time. And it was within the last 24 hours. But I did check up on you a bit, just to satisfy myself that a genetic connection is even possible. So I know you lived in Pennsylvania and what you did there. And I have a memory of your mother."

"A memory of my mother!" John exclaims. "What does that mean? Slam, bam, thank you, Ma'am?"

"It wasn't like that, son," Jack assures him. "If Richard told you about me, he must have told you there are reasons I can't make attachments."

"And yet you're here," John retorts.

"Yes," Jack acknowledges, "I am. Your mother was, uh…."

"Never mind," John interrupts. "I know. My mother only sleeps with her friends. But she has a lot of them, especially if she thinks she can get something out of a relationship. I guess she got more out of her time with you than she bargained for. She's my mother, and I love her – most of the time. But I'm not blind to who she is. I suppose you thought she'd be a no-strings-attached good time."

"That was the signal Evelyn put out. And I suppose she never told you the truth about what happened."

John snorts. "My mother and truth have a very limited acquaintance. Until a few days ago, I believed her story that my father was a total jerk who took off on both of us when I was ten. As a kid, I even blamed myself for it, thinking if I'd behaved better, he would have stayed. Mother let me think that too. Not long ago, she threw it in my face that she was the one who stayed, and I should be grateful. She's a damn emotional vampire. But that doesn't make her a toy to be discarded when someone gets bored with her."

"No, it doesn't," Jack agrees. "And if I had a clue about you, I would have kept watch on you and Evelyn the way I did on Richard and Martha. But neither one of us can change the past."

"So now what?" John demands.

"My um, job in L.A. is about finished. So I'll be going. I'll look in on you when I can, the way I do with Richard. But you probably won't know. Being around me can be a dangerous proposition. So unless there's no other choice, we won't be this close to each other again."

"How about my son. Henry?" John presses. "Did you know you have a grandson?"

"I did discover that when I looked into you. And I'll be watching out for him too. I leave it up to you what you say to him. I'm sure you do everything in your power to keep him safe. And I'm telling you, son, he's better off and safer, not knowing me."

John's lips narrow as his jaw tightens. "I'll keep that in mind."

Jack checks his watch. "I've been here too long. Take care, son."

"Yeah, uh you – damn! I don't even know what to call you. I don't think dad will do it."

"Jackson Hunt."

"That sounds made up. And I have a friend named Jackson," John adds.

"It is made up." The older man extends his hand. "But you can call me Jack."

John grips his father's hand with his. "You take care too, Jack."

From the balcony of their suite, securely locked when Lily might get anywhere near it, Rick and Kate gaze at the vista below them. Rick raises a glass of red wine. "To our last night in L.A."

"It's been a lot more of an adventure than you bargained for," Kate notes.

"Not just for me," Rick admits. "John called while you were busy siphoning off some of Lily's energy with a hall walk. He told me that Jack tracked him down, and they had a talk."

"How did that go?" Kate asks.

"Not like you'd expect. When we were with John, he didn't give me many details about his mother, other than some superficial similarities with mine. On the phone, he sounded angry, but not much of his ire was directed at Jack. He was pissed that his mother kept up the lie after all these years. He said he seems to have a habit of picking women who lie to him. He's hooked up with a couple of them in L.A., but he's hoping that Bailey will buck the trend. Attraction to deceptive women is a theme I can use in a book. But I'm crossing my fingers that John's current romance works out for him, even a fraction of how well finding you worked out for me. And you know, suddenly I have this urge to take more thorough advantage of Lily's slumber."

Kate's fingertip traces his belt buckle. "Yeah. Me too."

Finis

A/N So in my next Castle story, Rick and Kate will still be in this A.U., and there will be natural consequences of their enjoyment of each other. Join me for "You're Kidding Me!"