Under and Over Chapter 25
"Stay," Rick urges. "Mother told me she knows we're sleeping together and you've bonded with Alexis. There's no reason you have to run back to your apartment."
"I will need fresh clothes in the morning," Kate points out.
"Your apartment is on the way to the 12th. You can change before you go to work. However many steps lie ahead, this is supposed to be a night of celebration, Kate. We should spend it together. And you said you were looking forward to me heating things up for you."
"I did," Kate concedes. "But we'll need to get an early start."
Grinning, Rick offers his hand. "No problem."
Meeting Rick's bed with a bounce, Kate's eyes flick to the headboard. "I've wondered since the first time I was in here. Why the checkerboard design?"
"It's not a checkerboard, it's a chessboard. When I was growing up, I always felt powerless, like a pawn being shoved along while my mother was in thrall to some casting director's whim. But when I put together a place of my own, I wanted to be in charge, laying down my head with the chessboard in my control. But it no longer is, Kate. The king can only move one square at a time. The queen is the most powerful piece in the game. She can go in any direction, do whatever she wants."
"But if the queen is knocked out, the game goes on as long as the king is standing."
Rick frames Kate's face in his hands. "If the queen gets knocked out, the king has no reason to stand."
Kate fingers the growing bulge below Rick's belt. "Looks like he's making a pretty good try at standing already." She tugs at his zipper. "We should let him out."
"For which he would be most grateful. I believe the queen has an inner chamber he'd love to explore."
Air whistles through Kate's pursed lips. "It is getting hot in there."
"He always enjoys the heat."
When Kate's phone alarm goes off in the early morning darkness, she finds Rick awake and staring at the ceiling. She snuggles into his bare shoulder. "What are you thinking about?"
"What? Oh, good morning. Not thinking, precisely. I was writing in my head. When I can do that, the text just flows from my fingers when I make it to the keyboard."
"What were you writing?"
"The opening paragraph to my book, the one about Bracken. I'm describing evil lurking behind the guise of a public servant. I'll need to make every word perfect to grab the reader. If the first sentence or two don't hook a book browser, they move on to the next tome that piques their interest. I don't want anyone moving on."
Kate presses a light kiss to his lips. "Hey, you'll get it right. But I've got to get going. I want to grab a shower and get dressed at my place, then hit the precinct early. There's a lot of stuff on my desk I should get out of the way before a new body drops."
"And you will call me when the droppage occurs?"
"Are you sure you want me to? You said you wanted to work on your book."
"Yes. However, the dragon may be trapped in a cave but I'm not about to leave the knight without her faithful squire."
"All right, Castle, I'll call you."
Even with the winter sun shining on it, the finish on Magic Turnbull's 2005 Lincoln looks dull. Magic's been wanting to get a new car for years, but Vulcan Simmons enforced strong limits on the dealer's territory. A smile slowly comes to Magic's lips. That's all done now. No one's heard from Simmons since he was arrested. His lieutenants are still trying to do business, but without their leader, they've probably lost their mojo. It's time for fresh magic to swoop in and work its spells. He drives north from the border of Washington Heights on the edge of Harlem. If he's going to expand, he's expanding upward.
Luther White watches a Lincoln cruise by the brownstone stoop where he's set up business. He recognizes the car Simmons had him keep an eye on in the past. Damn sonofabitch Magic Turnbull! Simmons made sure the pissant dealer stayed on his own turf, but now Turnbull's barging in where he doesn't belong. Simmons may be gone, but the territory is the territory and Magic can't be allowed to ignore the big boss' borders. Luther pulls his burner out of the pocket of his peacoat. The organization will have to plug the small crack before it becomes a big one.
Ryan holds a sticky note aloft. "Beckett, Esposito, we've got one, corner of 181st and Amsterdam."
"In Vulcan Simmons' old territory?" Kate queries.
"You know it," Ryan confirms. "Lanie's already in transit."
"You and Esposito go ahead," Kate instructs. "I'm going to pick up Castle on the way. He'll want to be in on this."
"Do you know the identity of the suddenly departed?" Rick asks climbing into the passenger seat of Kate's unit.
"No positive ID yet, but officers ran the plate of a Lincoln parked near the scene. It belongs to a Duane 'Magic' Turnbull, a known drug dealer. We'll know for sure when Lanie gets his prints."
Rick stares at the ragged flesh that used to be Turnbull's face and torso. "Wow, someone wanted to make sure he wasn't getting up again."
"Lanie do you have a COD?" Kate inquires of the M.E. kneeling near the body.
"Besides the complete shredding of his internal organs? He was shot with an AR-15 or something like it. It looks like someone emptied an entire magazine into him."
"If that is Turnbull, he's a warning that Simmons's departure doesn't mean his territory is unprotected," Ryan ventures.
"So you think Simmons' organization did this?" Kate asks.
"It's likely," Ryan speculates. "Simmons may be gone, but someone is still holding things together."
"If we confirm this is Turnbull, we should pull Narcotics into this," Kate advises.
"But without Simmons, who would be enforcing the territorial limits?" Rick wonders. He and Kate lock eyes as they simultaneously mouth "Moss."
Lydia Moss Bracken gazes around Bill's bedroom. They hadn't shared one for years. He liked to keep his late-night business private. She suspected that he might have more than one staffer eager to fill his needs, but she really didn't want to know. In politics appearances are everything, and Bill blew all of that to hell. Still, the house is hers. She can get rid of whatever she likes except for what the various prosecutors ordered her to preserve. According to her dad, complete cooperation will keep the investigators out of the faces of the rest of the family as much as possible. Most of Bill's crap would have been at his various offices, anyway. And her father's already taken care of any signs of unofficial communication between himself and Bill. The kids are both safe at school, under their grandfather's protection.
But things will be more complicated than they were. Bill was able to give his father-in-law a heads up on committee activities that might impact his corporate business. Without those tips, he's on level ground with his competitors. Or almost level. Dad's hinted that the Russians have a few computer tricks up their sleeves that will still give him an advantage – as long as he plays ball. Lydia doesn't want to hear any more about that. Bill, or no Bill, she only wants the advantages she's always had to continue."
"That was Lanie," Kate announces, holding up her cell. "Fingerprints confirm our vic is Turnbull. That gives us a start on who took him out."