Slaying the Beast
Chapter 7
Kate isn't sure how anxious she is for Castle to show up, with or without coffee and a bear claw. She hadn't slept much, her bed suddenly seeming cold and empty. She hadn't felt that way in a long time, if ever. When Will went off to Boston, she'd hardly missed him.
It had been much the same with her other boyfriends. She enjoyed the sex - most of it. It was also nice to have a plus one for the six weddings at which she'd been a bridesmaid and for various other social occasions. But she had never jumped into a relationship with both feet. It was safer that way.
One reason she'd kept Castle at arm's length was that somewhere in the back of her mind, from the moment she sat across from him in the box, she sensed that if she let him get close, he'd get too close, breaching the wall she'd built against feeling more pain. But last night that barrier had begun to crack. Maybe he'd been wearing away at it for a long time, but as he worked to solve what is essentially her problem, the intrusion became palpable. It was soul-filling and terrifying all at once.
She knows it's him, even before he gets off the elevator. He's carrying coffees and a bakery bag, still a little clumsily because his hand isn't healed yet. He grins as he gives her the bag and puts a cup on her desk. "A bear claw and a non-fat latte with two pumps of sugar-free vanilla as promised. Any info on Hephaestus?"
Kate jerks herself back to thinking about the case. "The financials haven't come in yet. It may be a few hours, but you gave me an idea. I've been looking for businesses with names that have meanings related to what a god of fire might do. Here, there's a car repair shop in the Heights, called The Forge. I thought we might check it out."
"If that is one of Vulcan Simmons' operations, they won't be inclined to reveal much to a cop."
"Probably not, Castle, but do you have a better idea?"
"How about if we drive up there with an old muscle car that I say I want to fix up to take to car shows?"
"Castle, I don't think the motor pool stocks those."
"One of the writers I know buys junkers and fixes them up as a hobby. If I recall, at our last poker game, he was bragging about two new acquisitions. He owes me for putting out a dynamite promo for his last book. I even read the thing first. We could borrow one of his new projects for a while. He might even get some free work done on it in the bargain if the Forge is any good. And believe me, if you flash that Beckett smile at him, he won't be able to resist. The car will give us a reason to hang around the shop, maybe strike up a conversation or two, while we wait for an estimate on repairs. It's worth giving it a shot, isn't it?"
"Might as well, Castle. At this point, we have nothing to lose."
Kate hadn't imagined that the car Castle had in mind would be a '67 Mustang. The "pony style" car had always appealed to her as just plain sexy, as well as having her respect for what is under the hood. That it's a convertible just adds to the fantasy of whipping down the highway in search of adventure. But there's no whipping through New York City traffic. It takes more than an hour to make it from the garage in Queens where Castle's friend houses the car, up to the Forge. The obvious interest of the crew as they eye both her and the vehicle seems to be worth the drive. She and Castle immediately strike up a conversation with the men about the joys of big engines and aerodynamic design. At a casual reference to a boss who likes cars with real power, Kate grabs her opportunity to ask just who the boss might be. The mechanic she's talking to immediately excuses himself to go check on something, after a warning glance from his manager. It makes sense. If Vulcan Simmons owns the Forge, he wouldn't necessarily want it to become public knowledge. She and Castle are directed to seats in the lounge to await the results of the car's assessment.
Castle takes a cautious sip from a cup of the coffee put out for customers. "This has a hint of chicory. That tracks. I believe I remember something in Simmons' file about his having connections in New Orleans. Maybe his family is from there. I'm not sure what difference that would make, except for being another piece of the puzzle."
"It could be a big piece, Castle. New Orleans is a major port, not just to the gulf but for everything that goes up and down the Mississippi. It would be a base for transporting all kinds of contraband, including drugs."
"Are you suggesting that the Simmons family might be old hands at illicit operations?"
"I don't know, Castle. Chicory in the coffee isn't much to base assumptions on, but it's something to check out."
Castle pulls his phone out of his pocket. "Which is something to do while we're sitting here. Simmons, smugglers, New Orleans. Eureka! Beckett, there's a whole story here. There was a slave owner named Simmons whose activities regarding the transportation of goods were shall we say, questionable. He forced his slaves to participate in his activities. For the most part, they learned to run the operation, which was under the Simmons name. He was killed during the Civil War, and after they were emancipated, they left his plantation and moved to New Orleans. They were good at what they did, handling all manner of cargo, legal and otherwise. The descendants are still there, and some of them called themselves Simmons - for business purposes perhaps. From all appearances, Simmons shipping is legitimate now, but there were apparently some rogue participants in the organization that struck out on their own. Vulcan may be one of those. He'd have quite a wealth of history and connections to know how to move just about anything including heroin, fentanyl, or even something more exotic."
Kate takes a sip of her own coffee, wrinkling her nose at the bitterness that accompanies the spice. "That would make him a useful partner for Bracken for more than just taking out threats like George Mercer."
"And vice versa. As D.A., Bracken could have given Simmons carte blanche to operate. As a congressman and a senator, he would have been in a position to lend Simmons cover as well. That makes tracking down Simmons more important than ever."
"Castle, considering the coffee, and the way the crew here is afraid to talk about him, he must be at least spending some time here. He's a murder suspect. That easily justifies staking this place out. I'll set up a 24-hour watch. Whenever he shows up, we'll get him."
"And were you planning on taking a shift on that watch yourself?"
"Sure, I'm the primary."
"Want some company?"
Kate knows she's asking for trouble if she accepts. In a car alone with Castle for eight hours? She should pair up with another detective but… "OK, Castle just don't forget to bring some coffee without the chicory in it."
"Nothing but the finest beans."