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Office of the Police Commissioner
14th Floor
NYPD Headquarters
1 Police Plaza Path,
New York, NY 10038
7:25 A.M
"Uncle Frank," Alexis Castle gives him a look, "Whenever you deflect with snark, I know you're hiding something. It's where my dad picked up the habit."
"I think Martha should get some of the credit," Frank Reagan counters.
"Grams' is more dramatically dismissive than snarky," she smirks.
"Fair enough," Frank concedes.
"Uncle Frank, I want answers, "Alexis glares, "You guys owe me."
"For what?"
"This," holding up newspaper again.
"I thought your generation got your news off your phones," Frank rolls his eyes.
"I'm old-school, like my Godfather," she smirks, "And I don't like learning my family's secrets at the same time as all of Larry's readers.
"You guys always told me that you and Uncle Roy met my dad and Uncle Bob on the same day when they were nine after they'd gotten into a scape.
"Growing up, I loved hearing that story. I thought it was so sweet how two of my Godfathers met my third and my dad."
"And what we told you was true," Frank replies, "Minus a couple of details involving said scrape so you wouldn't have nightmares."
"And let's go over those details," Alexis narrows her eyes, "Like my dad delivering a fastball to a serial killer's family-jewels to save Uncle Bob.
"And then as they ran away, the maniac tried to chase them down with his van, but he crashed which is how he was caught. True as well?"
"Yes," he sighs, "Bobby almost became Bradley Hindley's ninth victim. In our defense, Larry covered it at the time. It's not like we told him and not you."
"And when did my dad play baseball?" she asks confused, "He only talked about playing Basketball with Uncle Bob in the Police Athletic League with you and Uncle Roy coaching them."
"He never did," Frank replies, "He worked really hard to try out. He could pitch at 45-mph with incredible control, awesome for a nine-year-old, but Baseball turned out to be too rigid for his nature."
"This I believe," Alexis rolls her eyes, "He'd likely have been banned for life before age eleven."
"Roy said the exact same thing," Frank shakes his head.
"But you guys still owe me."
"Shouldn't you be grilling your other Godfather," Frank replies Experience shows that if you want to know what Doc Holiday is doing, ask Wyatt Earp."
"Doc Holiday?"
"You've seen your father shoot and play poker," Frank Responds.
"Fair enough," she concedes, "But you're the top cop, Wyatt Earp. Uncle Bob would be John Clum, Mayor of Tombstone, and Mayor Weldon seems to be hiding from me."
"Bob was always a smart kid."
"Quit stalling Uncle Frank," Alexis scolds, "I want to know where my dad is and why he's been acting so strange?"
"That second part could take years to explain," Frank rolls his eyes.
"No more snark," Alexis' almost growls, "He's barely been home since Wednesday, spending nearly all his time at his office in the Old Haunt."
"Has he explained why?"
"Now I know you're hiding something," Alexis smirks, "Get the interrogator to give up what they know. You taught me that when I was ten."
"And now I'm having flashbacks to when your dad was that age."
"Fine," Alexis huffs, "He called me every day. He said the place inspires him for some new plot, and I know we've seen this before. When he's in the zone, he loses all track of time, but it's never gone on for this long.
"And I called him this morning after reading Larry's column, but he didn't pick up. I even called Brian the manager and he says dad wasn't there."
"You think your dad lied to you about being at his bar?" Frank asks.
"No, I know he's been there," Alexis starts speaking rapidly, nervously, "He's also made some interesting side trips.
"That Wednesday, he visited Uncle Roy's grave at Cypress Hill Cemetery and spent about an hour. He usually visits on a Sunday.
"He made multiple visits to City Hall and 1PP. That can only mean you or Uncle Bob He doesn't talk to anyone else at either."
"Wait, wait," Frank raises his hand, "Have you been tailing your father?"
"Well," Alexis replies reluctantly, "I may have put a tracking app on his phone without him knowing."
"Alexis!" Frank tries to look stern but is laughing inside.
"Hey, don't give that look," Alexis Huffs, "He did to me."
"And you gave him hell for it," Frank replies, "And when you got tired, you had Nicky take over."
"She volunteered," Alex counters, "Fine, I'm a hypocrite, but that's not important now."
"What is important now?" he asks.
"I lost track of him this morning," Alexis mumbles, "I think he turned his phone off."
"Or his battery died," Frank shrugs," What do you want me to tell you?"
"What did Beckett do?"
"She's at the top of your list of suspects?" Frank responds.
"Uncle Frank," Alexis sighs, "She is the list."
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Delta Airlines Flight DL5711
Enroute to Washington D.C.
"When will this damn plane get there," Kate Beckett thinks to herself.
The more she thinks about Larry Brown's column, the more her mind is freaking out at the possible fallout.
"Damn Larry Brown," she curses to herself, "He makes me sound like some clueless damsel in distress who'd be dead if Rick wasn't around to save her."
Her anger keeps simmering as she reread the column for the fourth time.
"Okay, so in her reports Gates doesn't credit Rick for his contributions because he isn't a cop. It's no secret…apparently.
"And, yes, Roy always did give him his due, cop or not. I guess I'm lucky that Larry didn't mention that I resented that at first, but I came around.
"Okay, so I never fought Gates on her policy. I have only so much leeway with her. I have to pick my battles, and Rick never complained. But now it's in print.
"Larry doesn't come right out and say it, but people will put two and two together and think Javi, Kevin, and especially I have been taking his share of the credit."
She leans back and takes a breath. Luckily, the well-dressed executive sitting next to her is both very petit and emersed in her own reading, business reports it seems like.
"I used to think how lucky I was to be assigned to the 12th. Even in the academy I heard stories of how the place turned good cops into great ones like some kind of graduate school, handing out 'masters' and 'doctorates' in policing.
"Hell, the place produced two commissioners. Both Henry and Frank Reagan began there and commanded there. A huge number of current Chiefs, Inspectors, and Captains went through there.
"They call themselves the 'Graduates'. They were all hostile to Gates' appointment since she came from IA, and never served at the 12th.
"Now, I get to have Larry Brown tell me that those same high-ranking offices helped raise both Rick and Mayor Weldon."
"I know I don't have to worry about Gates so much, but what if the Taskforce asks The Commissioner or anyone of them about any of this?
Her mind races back and forth between different parts of the column
"I can respect the mayor and Rick not grandstanding about what happened with Hindley out for the victims' families. I do, but that's strangers. Why didn't he tell me!"
"You're one to talk about keeping things," the little voice inside her head says to her.
Then she rereads a part towards the end.
As he feels Gates isn't using Castle's investigative skills to their full potential, The Commissioner has, on several occasions, asked Rick to work directly for him, but Rick has always politely declined.
"Rick mentioned the Commissioner offering him a job at 1PP a few times. He just brushed it off as not his thing, and he never hid it from me.
"I just assumed the job was working for Garrett Moore, the Deputy Commissioner for Public Information, Reagan's Public Relations Czar.
"Rick never mentioned the exact nature of the job Reagan was offering, but given Rick's background, well what I knew at the time, it made sense."
Then something occurs to her that should have over the last two years.
"How the hell DID he know?" Kate asks herself, "The glare off of Maddox's sniper scope could have been anything, but he just tackled me.
"We never had a case involving a sniper until after that. Even when Lockwood killed Raglan, Rick was facing the opposite direction of the shot."
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Office of the Police Commissioner
7:35 A.M.
"Let me ask you this," Alexis frowns, "Do you approve of Beckett, for my dad I mean."
"As the Police Commissioner," Frank replies, "I'm not supposed to know that they are anything more than work partners."
"Come on Uncle Frank," She replies, "By now you have to know they're more than that. The entire Department knows, even Captain Gates.
"Heck, even before that, it was never about the Gates possibly using a regulation that doesn't even apply to them as an excuse to expel dad again."
"Then, what was it about? "Frank asks.
"What people think about her," Alexis replies, "It's like she's still in high school, obsessed with maintaining her image.
"Even if Gates was overruled, she couldn't stand people talking about her behind her back. Now, please answer my question.
"I've loved Rick like son since he was a kid," Frank continues, "I only care about is how the other person treats him and you. And given her record, I'm not a fan.
"Did you tell my dad?" Alexis asks.
"I did," Frank responds, "I also told him it's his decision and I'd respect it as I did when Erin married Jack Boyle."
"You called that respecting?" Alexis replies.
"Yes," Frank says deadpan, then smiles "And we got Nicky out of it."
"What about my mom?"
"Well," Frank explains slowly, "There was a time when your dad was in a really dark place. Martha, Bob, my folks, Mary, and I were really worried about him.
"It was after Kyra and before you, and the first time we saw him holding you, the look on his face told us he'd been saved. Meredith was worth that and then some."
Alexis just chuckles and nods.
"But you're the one I'm really worried about," Frank adds solemnly.
"Me?"
"You're worried something is wrong between them," Frank explains, "It worries me what even the thought of that does to you after Meredith and Gina…"
"I'm not a little girl anymore," Alexis responds bravely, "I'm not crying my eyes out over why mom or Gina leave because they have better things to do. I've gotten over it."
"No one should ever have to get over something like that," Frank replies taking and squeezing he hand.
"It is what is," Alexis states, "I came to talk about my dad, not me. Copy?"
"Copy that."
"Okay," Alexis takes a deep breath and continues, "On Saturday, dad let it slip he hasn't seen Beckett since Wednesday either, just quick calls or texts.
"I called Beckett on Sunday. Normally, she'd be on board with getting him to take a break, but not this time, like she was avoiding him.
"And after I couldn't reach him this morning, I tried her, and also no answer. So, I called the precinct, and they told me Beckett was off this morning."
"But let me ask you something. Do you suspect Beckett and your dad are on the outs or are you hoping she's they are?
"You've never made any secret that you disapprove of your dad working with the NYPD. Are you hoping that this will cause him to stop."
"I just want my dad to be happy and safe," Alexis says beat, "And with Beckett the happiness comes and goes, mostly goes, but the danger is constant."
"However, and I'm sure this will make you happy, I don't think my dad would leave even if he and Beckett aren't together anymore."
"Make me happy?"
"Don't play coy," Alexis replies, "I'm sure you were thrilled when, as Larry put it, the Prodigal son returned. How did you and Pop let him get out of going to the Academy?"
"It's like Larry said," Frank responds, "Your dad wrote two bestsellers in college. It was his call and we respected it."
"Maybe that was part of it," she replies, "But he wouldn't have walked away without your blessing. He lives in dread of disappointing either of you.
"It was Aunt Mary, wasn't it? Dad always said that she was one of the first people to recognize and encourage his talent for writing."
"Not just her, my mom too," he chuckles, "For Irish matriarchs there are few higher callings. The glares we got from Mary and mom scared us into letting it go."
"My mom and Mary are also the reason we had to let him be a Red Sox fan?" Frank adds.
"Really," Alexis chuckles lightly.
"They took Pop and I aside," Frank sighs, "And they reminded us that the Red Sox play in New England, the birthplace of American Literary tradition."
"And who else would a writer cheer?" she chuckles more, "I do think he takes it a bit far by telling Beckett he doesn't like Baseball so he can avoid going to Mets' games."
"What can I say," Frank rolls his eyes, "He's still not over the '86 Series."
Then there's a light knock on the door as Baker sticks her head in,
"Sorry to interrupt, Sir," the detective says, "But Yosemite Sam is here."
Frank and Alexis cover their mouths trying to suppress laughter.
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For those unfamiliar with my style. If two scenes are happening at the same time, I divide them with a line of 34 "X" characters.
If the next scene moves forward, I use a line of 68 "X" characters.