Operation Poof is being derailed before it can even begin. Detective Beckett is missing.
Okay, operation Poof is supposed to make her disappear, but the good guys were going to hide her, except they can't find her. Maybe this a sign from the universe that the woman doesn't need writer boy messing about in her life. Castle pushes the thought away and forges ahead despite the growing dread.
"Espo, what do you mean you don't know where she is and I need to go ask her father? There is no way in hell I am going to talk to Jim Beckett. How do you know she isn't at the cabin any more?"
"I called the county where Mr. Beckett's cabin is. I spoke to the sheriff to say there are security concerns about the Becketts' well-being and I wanted them to do a wellness check. He said that was somebody else's problem because they weren't staying at their cabin. They'd been gone for about two weeks. They gave their perishables to the food pantry, so they must not have plans to come back anytime soon."
"Lanie has to know where Beckett is. What does she say?"
"That it's none of my business. You know how Lanie is. She isn't talking."
"And you tell me I need to man up? Grow some balls, Esposito. I've gotten plenty to keep me busy without being your errand boy." Castle leans back from the table, ready for the verbal onslaught. He's got some pent up emotion and it's long overdue to tear into the imbalance in this so called friendship.
The detective bristles at the privileged writer giving him, a hardened veteran, attitude. He notes the fire in his eyes, the scruff on his face, and the steel in his posture. The silence hangs between the men until Esposito realizes he's got no hold over the man. They need Castle because he's the best chance they have. The man is brilliant and he's going to do what he thinks is best - with or without keeping him and Ryan in the loop. "Lanie has me by the balls. If I ever want to have sex again, I had to drop the subject. Just go see Jim - for Beckett's sake."
All the fight drains out of Castle (much like Kate's blood did in the cemetery on a beautiful sunny day.) The dread in the back of his brain whispers why she pushed him away. "She is probably staying with motorcycle boy. It makes sense. He's a doctor. Kate needs a lot of care. It was probably more than her dad could handle." He can't face another of Beckett's lovers. Demming is already playing knight in shining armor for uncovering the plot. Motorcycle boy literally saved her life. Beckett made it clear that the class clown wasn't part of her future. He can't do it. It's too much.
"Naw, if motorcycle boy and her were shackin' up, Lanie wouldn't be in charge of Beckett's medical care. I pushed Lanie and she told me she is something called a proxy health advocate or something, and even if she wanted to tell me, Lanie is bound by HIPAA laws not to disclose anything."
"Why isn't Jim - her father - acting on her behalf? Shit, what's going on with her?"
"Damn if I know. But if her father isn't this proxy person, then he can tell you what's going on and where she is."
"I can't go see Mr. Beckett. He asked me to make her walk away from Joanna's murder investigation and I failed him - and Kate. He must hate me."
"Castle, please go see the man. You're the only one who won't look suspicions if we are being watched. And Beckett needs you even if she doesn't know it. We'll take care of your plan with the forger, and I'll make connections with my guy so the disappearing act is ready to go." Espo gets up from the table. "My lunch hour is over and I need to get back to work before Gates notices. Here is Jim's address. He grabs the pages Castle printed, the messenger bag with burner phones, five grand, and leaves Castle sitting there with his head in his hands.
Maybe if Rick ignores the need to talk to Jim it will just go away. Screw growing up. He wants to hide.
One thing Castle won't ignore it the need to keep Beckett safe. He needs to get to the Bronx to make contact with the Z Lot company. The name is deliberately vague. The employees appear very ordinary. The reputation for the firm is understated. Those that need their services find their way by divine intervention, not by any advertised means.
Castle had the good fortune many years ago to find a young religious scholar amused by his 'angry wiccans out for blood' plot, who patiently answered hundreds of questions. The two men spent many hours together over several months and stayed in touch afterwards. The scholar, Father Nicholas, got to live up to his namesake because an anonymous donor always made sure his parish had a merry Christmas with a feast and gifts. Years later Father Nicholas earned Castle's everlasting gratitude.
The rising star of Black Pawn had his first battle against evil-doers when the Master of the Macabre blindly followed the advice of his buddy who fancied himself a PR guy and believed in fame at any cost. Castle let any and all photos get taken with the hope they would generate buzz. It worked but at a high price. The devil came to collect after shots of his flaming little red haired angel got her very own stalker. The police were very helpful (it was the first time he every met Detective Roy Montgomery) and they quickly identified their man on security footage as Jeffery Volker - a known pedophile.
Richard Castle was willing to pay any amount of money, promise anything to anyone, to keep his baby girl safe. The father was appalled that his role as provider was the very thing putting his child at risk. The police advised him to hire private security and assured him they would gladly arrest Mr. Volker if he violated the terms of his parole.
Someone was sending things toys to Alexis through the mail, but no one could prove Jeffrey was behind it. He watched her but stayed several hundred feet away at all times. Things appeared at her school. He watched from a coffee shop when they went to the park. Castle was frantic to keep Alexis safe but not let her know something was wrong.
The author who wrote about death began to entertain some very dark thoughts. It was this desperation that led him back to Father Nicholas who led him to the perfect solution: Z Lot company specialized in righting wrongs. A little girl being targeted by an man with a record of evil deeds aligned perfectly with their calling. Z Lot was staffed entirely by zealots - people of strong faith who believe all it takes for evil to flourish is for good people to do nothing. Catholics, Jews, Christians, Muslims and even Mormons all worked together. Male and female, young and old, every skin color, a variety of skill sets all united in a strong moral compass that God's laws (or Allah's) were not to be broken while the laws of man were not as sacred. The only reservation they had in accepting the case was to make sure Alexis's father was of good moral character. They weren't concerned about his friendship with jewel thieves or mobsters (anyone can reform) but rather whether the author was glorifying evil in his writings. Once he passed that hurdle, their acceptance of the job was immediate.
Castle wanted young security people for a protection detail around Alexis. Wendy O'Neil was perfect. She was young, bubbly, and newly discharged from Marine Corps reserve training. She also had flaming red hair and freckles and was enrolled in physical rehabilitation at State University of NY. Now Castle needed a half dozen more just like her. He was outraged when the company refused his plan.
Wendy talked him down from his blind rage and veiled threats to take matters into his own hands if they didn't immediately provide a bubble of protection. Wendy let him get all the emotion out, let his emotion give way to logic and then asked Mr. Castle to listen. They weren't going to surround Alexis, they were going to surround the target, Jeffery. He was going to be followed and photographed. His computer was going to hacked and his mail was going to be inspected. His friends were going to be investigated and his finances watched. Wendy explained that their experience showed the evil doers already had enough rope to hang themselves, they just needed to tie the knot. Meanwhile Alexis could live a normal life since her stalker would be targeted 24 hours a day until the issue was resolved. Castle felt a ray of light and trusted them.
He wasn't disappointed. Jeffrey Volker was arrested six days later. The zealots rested on the seventh day.
Evil hadn't diminished so Z Lot was bigger and more prosperous than ever. Castle contributed to their standing both financially and by dropping the company's name in the ears of select other well-to-do acquaintances. They made no secret that the rich clients helped their less affluent citizens also have access to "A to Z security needs." Some said the "A" referred to avenger; some said angels. Rich or poor every client had one unusual pledge to make to the company. Any beneficiary of their services was asked to "be willing to pay it forward by assisting the company in the future in some small way and completely legal manner."
Castle fulfilled such requests a few times over the years. Two names were added to a book launch party and he made an introduction. Another time he allowed a man in a wheelchair to watch out the window of the loft every day at 4:30 pm for a few hours. Most recently he gave a ride to a woman in his Ferrari and dropped her at a private residence in Queens. He never knew why they asked (discretion was a strict rule) or the outcome of the situation, but it gave him a chance to stay in touch with the people who protected Alexis. Once again he turned to them, this time to protect a decorated officer of the law from a second assignation attempt.
They asked lots questions over the phone but then insisted on a face to face meeting. Castle thinks it will be a miracle if the timing of everything comes together, but he has to try. He makes time to meet.
He doesn't care if anyone follows him to St. Anne's catholic church. Father Nicholas greets his old friend and stands back while he lights a candle. Richard may not be a religious man, but he believes in the magic of the universe and that includes miracles, so it seems fitting to thank Beckett's return to the living by acknowledging whatever higher power watches over them. He drops a couple of hundred dollars in the donation box and takes a deep breath. The smell of incense and polished wood comforts him and he stands, waiting for something that is beyond his reach so he closes his eyes. He savors the peace.
"Come my brother. While St. Anne's appreciates your donation, you must have faith. You and Katherine have been in my prayers." The priest leads him away from the public sanctuary into a back hall. "I actually had a vision about you. It was a blue bird and a Morpho blue butterfly flitting about but having to dart away from each other to avoid the sting of a hornet."
"Why did it make you think of me?"
"Because at the end of the vision the proverbial bluebird of happiness was the saddest little creature I have ever beheld, and it reminds me of the look on your face right now. But the reason I know this was about you is that the butterfly was waiting on the front porch of a farmhouse sitting on a Richard Castle book."
"Which book? Flowers for Your Grave?"
"The Lily Pad - a children's book."
Oh, God. His is sure the beating of his heart is going to act like the drums of Jericho and bring down the walls of the church. Instead his silent reflection is interrupted by the sound of a woman's heels on the hard wood floor. Echoes of Beckett are everywhere.
Ms. Wendy O'Neil softly offers her empathy, "While it is wonderful to see you again, I wish the circumstances were different."
"As do I." Father Nicholas goes back to the sanctuary and Castle follows the woman (how long will he be conditioned to follow women blindly) to the basement where a meal is being prepared for anyone in the community who wishes to come. The smell of bread baking and spices simmering in the large pots seem normal when he is here to broker a deal about life and death. They move away from the bustle of the kitchen and settle in a small office.
The man in the wheelchair from all those years ago is appraising him.
Castle doesn't bother with his poker face. He wants them to see the sleepless nights and sorrow and anguish and the barely concealed terror that the dragon may triumph. He sits forward and silently urges them onward. "We meet again, Mr. Jones."
Mr. Jones waves away the name and polite small talk. "You seem impatient and annoyed that we did not instantly agree to protect your detective. While it may be noble to say A man has no greater gift than he lays down his life for another, the ugly truth is that having good people die allows evil greater success."
He stares down whatever comments the writer was about to make and continues, "So I insist on a careful consideration that the plan has a reasonable chance of success without undo danger. The actions you outline meet this criteria. The number of people you wish to employ, the electronic surveillance that will be used, and the safe lodging of the principle target all seem reasonable and appropriate."
Again Mr. Jones forestalls the agitated man and controls the narrative, "When we commit, it is more than our physical body on the line. We also commit our thoughts, emotions, and our very souls. I never will ask our people to have the slightest doubt that we possess the high ground. The reason for this face to face meeting is due to the unanswered issue of morality."
Castle explodes, "Screw that! Someone wants to murder a cop! How much more simple can the issue be? The fact that they shot her once already and she is fighting her way back from the dead makes this an outrage! Get on board or quit wasting my time."
Jones ignores the outburst and continues, "There are good officers of the law and then there are various shades of not being a good police officer. Some may choose merely to turn a blind eye to illegal activity and others may go even further and hide many sins behind the mantle of authority that has been entrusted..."
Castle interrupts, "Detective Beckett is not merely a good cop. I'm sure you've already looked up her bio and know of her impressive record: youngest woman to ever make detective, highest closure rates of homicide squads in the NYPD. She also has one of the lowest complaint records by citizens and regularly receives letters of appreciation from the families of the slain. She is simple one of the best detectives in the NYPD."
The other man concedes with a nod. "Yes, we have looked in the background of Ms. Beckett. There is a rather large amount of information to digest thanks to the public acknowledgment that the detective is the inspiration for Nikki Heat."
The older man pauses, and tried to delicately phrase the query, "One hesitation is the promiscuous reputation of the character Nikki Heat and if the real life woman who inspired her merely has an estranged lover after her."
This is the last thing Castle expected. Once again his own words bring grief to Kate Beckett. The author rues all the times he boasted and played up Nikki's sexual exploits. He sighs. "I can justify Nikki Heat's character by saying that sex sells, and it is simply my job to sell books."
Mr. Jones is not impressed by the superficial answer.
Castle gets a little more defensive, "Nikki Heat is fictional. Kate Beckett is real, and not, in any way, of loose moral character. She is a one and done kind of woman. She has dated only a few men and they are good men. Her current boyfriend is a surgeon who travels to impoverished countries. Kate and her boyfriend are separated for months at a time, but they are united in making the world a better place. I might also add, she and I have never been intimate and my reputation should not be held against Miss Beckett."
Jones holds up his hand, "Yes, that more than answers, but begs another, more fundamental question: why was she shot? What has she done to incur such wrath that she continues to be targeted? Put another way, if she has not unduly wronged someone, then why the vendetta?"
Castle needs manpower to fill some roles, but the understanding of outsiders was supposed to be limited. His voice falters, "Will you simple take my word that a dragon plots against her? That Beckett is trying to shine a light on wrong-doings and to keep a powerful man from doing even more harm?"
The older man lets silence fill the room. Slowly he crafts another innuendo, "Let me approach this another way. Obviously the news media added to the sensational story of Detective Beckett's shooting by rehashing the unfortunate stabbing of her mother. Many tenets of faith imply that the sins of the parents can be visited upon the heads of their children. What say you to this?"
Shit!
Castle wanted to keep the big picture obscured from anyone outside of the limited circle of trust, but he does trust these people. He just has to get them to reciprocate without giving details. "Johanna Beckett could have led a privileged life. She came from an affluent family who could afford to give their daughter an expensive education. A woman seeking a legal degree was somewhat unusual in that generation, but Johanna worked extra hard and persevered. She was advised to go into an "acceptable" role of family law but instead became a champion for justice. She did not judge the worthiness of clients, but only if the law was fairly applied to one and all. It's how she met her husband - Kate's father. Jim Beckett is an appellant lawyer who is one of the foremost attorneys in that field. This family is extraordinary honorable and humble, and I found no 'sins' in all the digging I have done into their history. You simply cannot make the case that either Johanna or Kate Beckett 'deserved' the evil that came hunting for them." he trails off, suddenly melancholy at the distance between himself and the Becketts of this world.
"Very well, Mr. Castle. I find your assurances credible and we will now consider Miss Beckett one of our flock and will protect her even at the expense of our very lives. The plan you outlined on the phone is a good one and we will proceed with all due haste to put this into action."
Castle signs the necessary documents and completes the wire transfer. He receives pertinent background on all the team that will actually be around Kate, and smile when he finds that Wendy's physical therapy degree makes her an ideal team member to be in the safe house with Beckett.
"One final question, Mr. Castle. You seem to have a gift for planning, and it makes sense given your vocation as a mystery novelist, but what is your end game? Simply put, are you hunting a man that will meet an untimely end?"
"You are the second person today to ask me that, so I will give you the same answer. It would demean the memory of Johanna Beckett and dishonor the profession of Kate Beckett to put out a hit on this dragon. I assure you justice means everything in this instance. Despite that, if this man comes after me or my loved ones, I will protect them at all costs and use whatever means are necessary no matter what."
Castle is judged and must have pass muster because he got a story as a reward. "Justice comes in many forms. Let me tell you - hypothetically, of course, about an eye for an eye. Beloved pets were going missing and the trail led to a dog fighting ring. The pets were used as disposable training tools for the animals to practice their kills. The cruelty and barbarism of the ringleaders were appalling yet the recourse available through the justice system were negligible. In this story, one night pizza and drinks were miss-delivered to the compound which were happily consumed by these men. Unfortunately for them, they fell into a deep sleep in the fight arena. It further happened that the dog's cages were somehow unlatched and the dogs were free to do as they wanted. The tormentors -the men- became prey."
He waves away that part of the story as trivial, but looks deeply saddened as he continues, "The intervention came too late for some of the dogs - only a handful of the animals sought to leave the compound where they were transported by good Samaritans to a pet sanctuary. The rest returned to their cages to await their fate. Of course when the authorities arrived, the majority of dogs were carted off to be destroyed."
Holy shit! Castle sees it all play out in his mind: the setup, the savage attack of canines trained to kill, and the gruesome bloodbath followed by the sorting out of animals. The men were roofied which is an interesting twist for a street drug usually procured for rape. Wow, the men were conscious for the attack but unable to move- defend themselves- or lash out at the dogs. He wants the rest of the story, "What happened to those men - hypothetically?"
"They experienced the consequence of their own actions. One man bled out, one had extensive tendon damage which resulted in a permanent limp, and the last man left the hospital with a fair amount of scarring - especially in the face and arms. The survivors reported to the police that an angel visited them and threatened them against ever owning an animal again. The officers concluded those visions were rambling nonsense caused by the trauma, and the event occurred because of too much alcohol. I might add that details of the retribution were sent anonymously to all patrons of this barbaric sport and attendance at such events dropped off considerably in the months following. I also heard the one man required a follow up visit when his girlfriend adopted a dog from the animal shelter. He had a 'come to Jesus' moment and decided to make a video about the evils of animal abuse.
That's what an eye for an eye means to these guys? A writer comes up with gruesome scenes but even he has never contemplated anything like this. "Um, I'm not usually speechless but I don't know what to say except to ask why you are telling me this?"
"Like a nine year old who only tastes the sweetness of the candy, the rush of sugar is unforeseen. You have dark circles under your eyes and your clothes are a little looser than a tailor would custom make them. You carry the emotional toll of having literal blood on your hands when you rushed to the fallen. You also have money and connections, so you have choices, Mr. Castle. I'm not doubting your resolve to be honorable in this matter, I am merely trying to caution you about the fortitude needed to persevere in this matter because I am certain Screwtape will make an appearance."
"As you have noted, I am much too tired and distracted for parables. What are you trying to tell me?"
"Miss Beckett may be hunted by a demon, but the devil wants your mind as his latest playground."