The Other Path

Chapter 14

"Detective Beckett, if the homicide cop with the highest closure rate in the city wants to work with my squad, I'd be a fool to turn her down. But," Chief Simmons continues, "we try to stay under the radar as much as possible. That's probably why Dick Wolf hasn't tried to make a show about us. You and your husband tend to attract attention. I'd request that you do that as little as possible. And I wouldn't want the squad turning up in one of his books."

"I understand. And Rick changes enough of the details in his stories that he can avoid outing the squad if you ask him to. He's kept a lid on many things over the years," Kate adds, "including my investigation into Senator Bracken."

"I'm sure that's true, Detective, but I'd like his assurances as well."

"I'll talk to him," Kate promises."


"How did your meeting with Chief Simmons go?" Rick asks as Kate pours M&Ms into a bowl.

Kate picks up a candy. "It was fine."

"The little line between your eyebrows and the bowl you fill when you're pondering something tells me it wasn't," Rick observes. "Did he say you could work with Borough Homicide Squad?"

"Yes."

"So, what's the problem?"

"You."

"Me? Why?"

"He wants to make sure you don't draw media attention to the squad."

Rick nods. "Ah. Run silent; run deep."

"Exactly."

"So, how do we convince him that I won't become a press magnet."

"I already told him, but you need to go see him."

Rick reaches into Kate's bowl. "I'll make an appointment for as early as I can tomorrow. Anyway, you'll be busy writing up the case report for Gates, won't you?"

"I was thinking you could help with that."

"Whatever you need – after I see Simmons."


As the Chief shakes his hand, Rick can't help noticing the copy of Ultimate Storm on Simmons' desk. "You read Derrick Storm?"

Simmons waves Rick to a seat. "I admit that I don't. But my wife and daughter are addicted. My wife told me I can't come home unless I give her a blow-by-blow of this meeting and get you to sign the book."

"I'd be happy to give you my autograph, but the blow-by-blow is up to you. Kate tells me that you're afraid I'll attract paparazzi and weave your cases into my books."

"Will you?" Simmons questions.

"As to the latter, I can promise straight out, no. I've done enough research at the 12th to fill at least 50 Heat novels. And considering that I usually only put out two books a year, including Storms, I doubt you'll have to worry about me running out of material. As to the first matter, I won't consciously attract the press to your work. I won't post about your cases on social media or my website. But I can't promise the occasional mosquito won't come buzzing around. However, I won't be upset if your squad does some metaphorical swatting. Kate's never been comfortable with publicity." Rick chuckles at a memory. "In fact, when a documentary crew was shooting at the 12th, she lured them into the broom closet and locked them in. One of the precinct's less camera-shy detectives let them out, but Kate made her point."

Laughlines spread from the corners of Simmons' eyes. "I'm sure she did. All right, Mr. Castle, I will take you at your word. So, I'll be calling on Detective Beckett to participate in our cases, and she can consult with you."

Rick picks up Ultimate Storm. "Outstanding!" He pulls a pen from his pocket. "How shall I make this out?"

"To Athena and Sophie. Athena's my wife, and Sophie is my daughter."

"Ah, the goddess of wisdom and French for wisdom," Rick acknowledges as he writes.

"Where my wife is concerned, the name fits. But my daughter is my youngest, She's still a teenager, so I'm never sure what to expect," Simmons confides.

Rick nods in sympathy. "I have a daughter too. Believe me. I get it."


"Mission accomplished," Rick announces, dropping into his accustomed spot next to Kate's chair. "Simmons will be requesting your assistance on the next juicy one. He'll notify Gates. So, how's the report going?"

"Wow! Gates is going to love hearing from a Borough squad chief. But the report is going pretty well. Darren and Liam sent over some details on their end of the case. Toni Gonzales tells me that Salkis is falling all over himself to be helpful. And Snodgrass and Credwell can't stop spouting off to blame each other. But that will be up to her to sort out. We gave her the murderer and his paymaster. The rest is up to the court. Did Simmons say how soon I can expect to hear from him?"

"From what I gather, as soon as a body drops. In the meantime, do you want me to add a few lines of pithy prose?"

"I was counting on it."


When Meredith Ramirez was growing up, girls from her neighborhood were taught to regard typing class as more important than math and science. In the ten minutes she got with a junior high guidance counselor, she was directed toward Central Commercial High School to learn the skills of a competent secretary. But Meredith wanted to have a secretary, not be one. She worked her way up the ladder from assistant to supervisor. When computers hit office desks, she put her keyboarding skills to work doing something she felt was worthwhile – learning and improving software. Finally, she spun off her own company, giving women from the neighborhood where she still lives a chance to rise with her.

Then the emails started coming. Meredith was used to insults and even threats. She'd heard them most of her life. But the messages grew increasingly disturbing. Finally, she turned them over to her security chief to be traced. That made her feel better. But the feeling didn't last. As she unlocked her car, the first new one she'd ever owned, she felt someone behind her. Soon after, she felt nothing at all."


Chief Simmons' call to Kate is brief. "You're up, Beckett. We have a body. Underground garage at 172nd Street and Haven Avenue in Washington Heights."

Kate taps on Rick's phone to get his attention as he's going through his email. "Babe, I've got a squad thing. Are you up for a trip to the Heights?"

He shoves his phone in his pocket with a grin. "I wouldn't miss it."


The garage is spotlessly clean except for the blood on the concrete floor. No graffiti adorns the walls, and trash receptacles and recycling bins flank the elevator doors. Kate signals for the attention of the nearest detective. "I'm Kate Beckett. This is Mr. Castle."

"The chief informed us you were joining the squad, Detective Beckett," Detective Curtis Roper responds. "Welcome aboard."

"Do we have an ID on the victim?" Kate inquires.

"That's why the squad is here," Roper replies. "It's Meredith Ramirez, CEO of Heights Software."

"The Ledger had a spread on her a couple of months ago," Rick recalls. "Woman of the hood finds success and extends the ladder to other women who grew up in similar circumstances. She's made quite an example of herself and her company – which would almost guarantee someone wouldn't like her very much."

"What was the COD?" Kate asks.

"The ME, Perlmutter, just left with the body," Roper reports. "But he said Ramirez was strangled."

"Ligature marks?" Kate queries.

Roper shakes his head. "The killer used their bare hands."