Slaying the Beast
Chapter 18
They're back, but other than seeing them briefly pass by the windows he plans to shoot through, Lockwood's not sure where they are. He has a good guess that it's the bedroom, but the curtains are closed, and he can't get a good angle on them there, anyway. He'll have to wait and see if they come in range. If not there's always the night. With his infra-red scope, the darkness won't be a problem. If anything it will provide cover.
Kate and Rick just fall on the bed, not bothering to pull back the spread. If successful interrogations get Kate this aroused, he's hoping there are a lot more of them. Maybe he can discover a private place in the precinct. He's always suspected that Espo and Lanie sneak off somewhere. Ooh, he hopes it's not the morgue. He's fine with kinky, but slabs would not be his preference.
Kate already has her top off, and she's pulling at his shirt. He pushes it over his head while she goes for his belt. "Kate, I'm a fan of your enthusiasm - a big fan in all meanings of the word, but can we slow this down enough to savor it a little? It's been a long time since I had a nooner."
Kate pulls the leather loose from its loops and begins cinching it around his wrists. This may slow you down a little Castle."
"Not precisely what I envisioned, but I can see how it fits the mood. Now what, Kate?'
Her lips leave a wet spot on the fabric of his pants as she presses her mouth to the material below his waistband before stripping his slacks from his legs. His condition is apparent beneath his boxers, and she pulls the elastic down to take a taste.
"Kate!"
"Relax and go with it, Rick, I'm just getting started." She rubs herself against the firm muscle of his thigh as she pursues her feast. He can feel the jungle heat on his skin, even through the fabric that still sheaths her lower body. She tastes the first liquid pearl before pulling back.
"Kate?"
She swiftly rids herself of her remaining barriers. "Your turn, Rick. You won't need your hands for this, and we both know how well you use your mouth."
Castle doesn't need a second invitation. She writhes beneath him as his tongue teases the center of her sensation to even higher levels of excitement. She takes him even as he takes her, lighting the fuse to the inevitable explosive release. It rocks and drains them both, rendering further movement or even speech impossible.
The taste of him still on her lips, Kate is the first to recover, hauling herself off his body. "Babe, I can't believe I need to go back to work after this, but I do."
Castle groans and consults his watch, the one thing he is still wearing. "We have time for a quick bite in the kitchen - food I mean. After burning that many calories, we can't get through the afternoon on empty stomachs and it would look a little suspicious to attack the vending machines after coming back from lunch. I think I have some Hot Pockets."
"I know you have some hot pockets, Babe."
Castle winces. "Not microwaveable. I can get my pants on, get the other kind out of the freezer and nuke them if you want to freshen up a little. There's some, uh - it's in your hair, and I don't think you could get away with claiming it's snow."
Kate fingers the sticky strands. "Yeah. All right Castle, if you want to take care of artificially processed snack food, I'll deal with the more natural kind. We should be able to just make it back to the 12th in time."
Lockwood can just make out what looks like Castle and Beckett exiting the building. He can feel himself hardening as he imagines how they spent the last hour. He doesn't begrudge them their midday adventure. It may have been the last one for both of them.
"Any luck with your logs?" Kate asks as Castle scans through the pages of a spiral bound record book.
"Maybe Flake should have been a doctor. His handwriting is almost indecipherable, but I did find some calls with Bracken - not as many as he would have liked us to believe. I think their closeness was braggadocio on his part, but they were in touch enough for Bracken to keep a finger on what was going down. I have some dates here: April 2, 2008, May 6, 2009, August 4, 2009."
Kate scans through listings of busts of drug operations. "The day before, every time. These were successful, but Narcotics never collared the higher level members of the organizations, like Simmons. Flake must have been tipping them off just enough so that they could minimize their losses while allaying suspicion, probably at Bracken's instructions. I don't think Flake is that smart on his own."
Castle taps on his phone log and snorts. "I bet he was smart enough to pull in some nice fat payoffs and hide them somewhere."
"Could be," Kate agreed. "Cops' financials are open to scrutiny by Internal Affairs, but they don't have the staff or resources to trace every account. They search for things like large purchases and defaults on debts. If Flake stowed the money in a country that doesn't cooperate with the IRS or other US investigators, IA would never find it. They wouldn't even know to look. He'd know that, and if he didn't, Bracken would. The senator would make sure his faithful puppy received enough Scooby snacks to keep him happy. But without any documentary evidence that Flake is taking bribes, we don't have any way to nail him."
"How about a sting?" Castle proposes. "We've done one before - the banker - the attaché case full of newspaper."
"I remember, Castle, but trapping a police officer, even a jerk like Flake is a lot more complicated than taking in a murderer trying to make off with a million dollars from the lovesick fiancée of her victim. He'll be aware of police procedure and on his guard."
"Then we set it up someplace he'd never expect police to be."
"Like where, Castle?"
"The domicile of someone with a reputation for loving drugs and hating law enforcement."
"Why would someone like that help us with a sting?"
"Repentance, redemption. Have you ever heard of Shiny Dime?"
"Who hasn't? He was the king of gangsta rap. But last I heard, he was convicted of assault with a deadly weapon and is doing time."
"But what you didn't hear is one of the better-kept secrets in the publishing world. Shiny found Jesus in prison. He became an author, under the name of Street Smarter, of a string of graphic novels aimed at young men of color. The idea is to urge them into paths that don't lead to prison. The secret of Street Smarter's identity lends him some mystique, and all his royalties have been going to programs to keep boys out of gangs. He was released from prison last month, and he's living on his estate out in Queens. He's actually planning on selling the place, quietly, but to the public at large, it's still a den of iniquity."
"You know Shiny Dime, Castle?"
"His name is Dwayne Tilson, and we've had a few conversations. He's given me some details about life in the hood so I could put more realism into my stories. We share the same agent. From the talks we've had so far, I'm sure he'd want to help bring down a cop who's covered for drug dealers. I don't think it would be wise to mention Bracken. I can give Dwayne a call - unless you have a better idea."
"No Castle, I'm fresh out. You go ahead."