Flu

Chapter 31

"Maybe I should stay in the car," Rick worries as Kate's unit approaches Grundig's mini manse. "If Marty used my name to get the offering memorandum, then Grundig might be suspicious when I show up with you."

"Or we can use your interest as a possible investor to our advantage," Kate suggests. "Our connection is no secret. The Caskett shippers even have their own wiki. We can play it that when I suspected that there might be some link between a murder and someone trying to harm SunKick, it piqued your interest. We don't treat Grundig as a suspect, just as a person who might know who has a grudge against the company."

Realization lights Castle's features. "And while he's spinning whatever tale he thinks will make us happy, useful revelations will leak into the narrative."

"Right," Kate confirms, pulling into a long driveway, "especially with you asking questions that might interest a potential investor."

"I will try my best to channel Marty," Castle declares.

Fresh from a shower, Denny Grundig is feeling pretty good. He managed to hustle $100 playing handball with a new member of the club. He enjoyed making the money, but more than that, he enjoyed putting one over on a longtime member of the moneyed class.

From the time he was a kid, Denny had to scratch for every cent. He was running a con at a private golf course in Queens when he met Harry Mudd. Harry caught on to Denny's game but played along to skin the wealthy patrons. Afterward, he told Denny he was impressed and had a job for him if he wanted it. They've been together ever since. Denny learned to breathe the rarified air of what passes for American aristocracy while pulling the chair out from under their arrogant asses.

He's surprised when his doorbell buzzes. He wasn't expecting anyone, and the village where he lives requires permits for salespeople and charitable organizations that go door-to-door. From what Denny's seen, the only time it grants them is when the outfit involved is a darling of the town council. It doesn't happen often.

He uses his phone to view an image from the camera at his front entrance. The first thing he sees is a very hot woman, unfortunately, accompanied by a man. The second thing is her badge. Since he swiped stuff out of cars as a boy, cops have made him nervous. But in the years he's been with Harry, it's like the pair is sheathed in Teflon. Nothing can stick to them. Glancing in his automatically defogged mirror, he assures himself that he's displaying the winning smile Harry drilled into him, and answers the door.

With enthusiasm ginned up by Sonia, a bevy of members of the Anderson clan decided on an afternoon expedition to the fairgrounds in Saint Paul. After offering to serve as a guide, Sonia is in the minivan with the Montgomerys. Eli is at the wheel as Evelyn gazes around the parking area. "This place is huge!"

"I know, right?" Sonia bubbles. "My mother brought me here to practice when I was learning to drive. Of course, not when the fair was on."

Evan bounces in his seat. "I can see a Ferris wheel."

"I want to check out the horses and the llamas." Rebecca declares.

"Cousin Wendy said she raised a duck that followed her around like she was its mother. I want to see something like that," Mary decides.

"Is there anything about cross-country skiing?" Eli inquires.

"I don't know," Sonia admits. "There are all kinds of product demonstrations. A lot of them are about farm equipment and cars, but you might find something."

"I thought the chocolate covered bacon sounded interesting," Roy confesses.

Probably sponsored by manufacturers of heart stents," Evelyn comments.

"There's a lot to check out, but I'll get you to as much as I can," Sonia promises. "And we'll want to meet up with the rest of the family at the grandstand for a show."

Evelyn's not sure she's crazy about that last part of their itinerary. She's still not entirely comfortable in a horde of Andersons.

Grundig pulls open his front door. "How can I help you, Officer…?"

"It's Detective," Kate corrects him, "Detective Kate Beckett, and this is Richard Castle. I need to ask you some questions about SunKick."

"And so do I," Rick adds, "but not as part of Detective Beckett's investigation. I accompany her as research for my writing, and in this case, our interests coincidentally coincided."

"Yes, I heard that one of your people inquired about investing," Denny acknowledges. "I'm always happy to answer questions about SunKick. Please come in."

Rick surveys the living room where Denny waves them to a couch. The piece is attractive but not particularly comfortable. Clearly, Grundig hired a trendy designer but didn't know how to find a good one. He's trying to keep up with Joneses who are running on a different track. Rick remembers when he sold his first few books. He wanted to buy everything that would prove to all the boarding school brats he'd endured growing up that he'd made it. His first designer was a disaster. So was his first upscale apartment.

Rick has to hand it to Martha. She sat him down and explained how bitter experience taught her that it isn't a man's money but how wisely and generously he uses it that counts. Rick still loves his toys, but he keeps Mother's point in mind. Denny Grundig appears never to have learned that kind of lesson.

Kate perches on the edge of the poorly engineered sofa. "Mr. Grundig…"

"Denny, please."

"All right, Denny, as I understand it, SunKick swings are manufactured of a superior plastic that resists breaking down in sunlight and is guaranteed to last outdoors for at least 20 years. In the past two years, you've managed to pick up contracts supplying playgrounds across the country as well as leading vendors of backyard play equipment."

Denny nods. "That's correct, Detective Beckett. We've been very fortunate in our success and are expanding to meet the increased demand."

"Can you think of anyone who might want to interfere with that success, Denny?" Kate asks.

"Industry is always competitive, Detective Beckett. The opposition would love to have a slice of our business."

"Anyone in particular?" Kate presses, "someone who'd be willing to commit a crime, perhaps a murder to throw shade on SunKick?"

"SwingHigh is our most aggressive competitor, but a murder, I don't see how anyone could do a terrible thing like that," Denny insists.

"Unfortunately, Denny, I see people willing to do terrible things like that as a regular part of my job. I'll check out SwingHigh."

"You should do that, Detective." Denny urges, pleased with himself for coming up with a diversion. "Can I help you with anything else?"

"You can tell me what the expected return on investment for your stockholders, is," Rick suggests with a wink.

"Mr. Castle, I'm sure you know that exact predictions like that aren't possible. But," Denny adds, "if you become part of the SunKick family, you'll be betting on a winner."

"Good to know," Castle responds, "but just one more thing. All the buzz about your swings is based on the durability of the plastic. What about the chains that hold them? Are they as superior a product?"

Denny blanches. "We pride ourselves on only using materials of the highest quality, Mr. Castle."

"Also good to know. I will strongly consider your company Mr. Grundig, just as I'm sure Detective Beckett will consider what she's learned here today."

Rising from her seat, Kate hands Denny her card. "If you think of anything you feel we should know, feel free to give me a call."

Denny attempts to gulp the lump in his throat. "I'll do that, Detective Beckett."

Rick and Kate are barely back in her unit when words explode from his mouth. "He did it or knows who did!"

Kate starts the car. "I agree, but we have to prove it."