Flu

Chapter 18

Guarding the luxury hotel room occupied by a murder arsonist would not be Officer Pat Hagan's choice of duty, but no one gave him a choice. At least one of the hotel staff rustled up a chair for him. Watching the comings and goings on the V.I.P. floor isn't totally boring. A couple of celebrities, as well as some high-powered business types, have suites. The traffic in and out of their rooms is interesting. Some of the visitors might draw a raised eyebrow or two from Vice, but right now, every cop in the city has more important things to do – even Pat. He knows the sonofabitch on the other side of the door is a potent witness against the mob. It's worth keeping the jerk alive to testify. That doesn't mean Pat has to enjoy it.

He's been monitoring a maid slowly making her way down his side of the hallway. From the way her feet drag on the carpet, she's not overjoyed with her job either. She just pushed her cart into 1536. She'll be coming to DeNuncio's room next. Typically, the N.Y.P.D. would exclude housekeeping staff or anyone else from a witness' quarters, or at least move the witness elsewhere while cleaning takes place. But from what Pat knows of DeNuncio, he's totally batshit about dirt. He not only loves having his room cleaned – what little cleaning it needs – he likes to watch. The maids don't even need short skirts and big boobs to be a turn on for him. Pat just has to check their I.D.s and keep tabs on them while they perform their duties.

Sophie regards the hotel I.D. Cyber Rita made for her. It says Maria Teresa Gonzalez, a match to the woman currently changing the sheets on the bed. The image on the laminated tag is a blend between Maria and Sophie's faces. With similar coloring and facial features, the two women look somewhat alike, a lucky break for Sophie. With Maria's uniform and some quick but skillful makeup, the dull-looking cop at DeNuncio's door won't know the difference.

Sophie sidles up behind Maria, her injector ready. "Excuse me. I just need to get something out of the nightstand."

Intent on getting through her work as quickly as possible, Maria ignores the tiny stab of pain on her neck. Sophie's firm grasp guides Maria's slumping body to a soundless rest on the room's plush carpet.

According to protocol, Pat passes Sophie's I.D. through his scanner, noting the green light and beep of acceptance. The maid looks pretty much the same as she has on a previous round, but a little less tired. Maybe she got a good night's sleep. He should be so lucky.

Leo stares intently as the maid enters his room and begins to check out the supplies near the coffee pot. It's funny that she should do that first. Yesterday, she did it last, because she started by collecting the damp towels and used linens. He doesn't care for any of that breakfast stuff anyway, except for the teabags. She replaces those, before moving on to the bathroom and reaching for a spray bottle – the wrong one – to clean the sink. As Leo rushes to correct her, his nose protests a sudden assault. Instead of the reassuring odor of bleach, he's detecting f***ing perfume! With a frantic yell for the cop outside, Leo flips the lock on the bathroom door and slams it, trapping Sophie inside.

The scent of vanilla drifting into the bedroom from the kitchen tantalizes Kate's senses. She stretches, kicking her light blanket to the foot of the bed, and checks the time on the watch she laid on the bedside table. It's 11 a.m. She slept for at least nine hours, and she's starved.

Rick looks up from whisking a bowl of waffle batter. "Good morning. I was wondering if you might be emerging soon. When I went through the bedroom to use the facilities a little while ago, I thought I heard a rumbling tummy attempting to arouse you." He points to the bowl. "I took a chance. Chocolate chips or strawberries?"

"Both. And we have whipped cream, don't we?"

"Of course. You never know when you'll be in the mood for creamy goodness."

Kate stretches over the counter to give him a kiss. "That's true. Was I dreaming, or did I hear the phone ring a while ago?"

"I grabbed it fast to try to keep it from waking you, but it rang," Rick confirms. "It was Ryan. A buddy of his on DeNuncio's protection squad told him that someone drugged a maid, took her place, and may have tried to kill DeNuncio. They haven't figured out how yet."

"So the Scarpellas must have tracked down where Eli Douglas stashed him. Where is Leo now?"

"At the 12th, for the moment. Ryan didn't have any idea what the long-term plan might be."

"How about the would-be killer?"

"She's at the 12th too. I'd assume in a different cell."

"I'm going to go talk to her," Kate declares.

"You're not officially on duty until tomorrow," Rick reminds her.

"I don't care. If Captain Montgomery won't give me a waiver, I'll stake him out until he does."

Rick dumps half a bag of chocolate chips into his batter and switches on the waffle iron to preheat. "In that case, you're going to need all your strength. Enjoy your waffles, and if necessary, we can lean on Montgomery together."

Montgomery hadn't counted on spending his Sunday morning at the precinct. He'd planned to be well on his way to the Hamptons to see a display of new fishing boats in the harbor. He's been stowing money away toward a craft of his own for years and is anxious to explore what's available. It looks like he'll have to keep his search online for a while yet. With DeNuncio and a possible assassin at the 12th, its captain needs to be there too.

When Kate Beckett stalks into his office, with Castle behind her, Roy is completely unsurprised. If anything, he expected her sooner. From the expression on her face, she anticipates a fight. He'll go through the litany required by regulations, at least for 30 seconds or so. But he'd have to be pretty stupid not to have his best detective perform the interrogation of the unknown woman.

Sophie gazes sullenly around her cell. She understands the drill. Ask for a lawyer, make a call to the boss, and don't say anything until the consigliere sends someone or better still, shows up himself. But when she called Dino, he sounded about ready to explode. She'd never heard him that mad, and with Dino, that's saying something. She has no idea who, if anyone, will be showing up. So far, all the cops have her for is drugging a maid, small potatoes. That's assuming they don't analyze the tea or pillow mints she left behind. But she can't count on that. Right now, she can't count on anything.

A tall black cop opens her cell and snaps cuffs on her. "Detective Beckett wants to talk to you." He leads Sophie to a room with a prominent microphone in the middle of a solid metal table and sits her across from a beautiful but hard-eyed woman. The man sitting beside the woman isn't bad looking either, but also doesn't appear too friendly.

Kate leans across the table, skewering the suspect with her stare. "Shall I call you Jane Doe, or do you have a real name?"