Slaying the Beast
Chapter 22
Kate tries to break through the awkward moment. "Dad, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?"
Castle backs up a step. "Excuse me. I have to uh, um, make some notes for my next chapter." He points. "I'll just, um, be in there." Castle quickly strides away and closes the bedroom door behind him, leaning against it to take a breath. He'd hoped to meet Kate's father under less challenging circumstances, but at least it's one hurdle he's managed to get over without ending up flat on his face - or at least he hopes so. He might be able to write this situation into a Nikki heat somehow, even if he's portrayed Nikki's father in worse straits than Jim Beckett seems to be in. He pulls his ever-present notebook out of his shirt pocket.
Kate motions her father to a seat on the couch. "What is it, Dad?"
"Katie, I've been going through your mother's things - the ones we put in storage. It was time. I know you have a lot of her papers and that you used them to investigate her murder. But you know there's more. I think she'd want most of her stuff - except for what you want - to go to charity. There are some things - I still have her wedding dress. Johanna had it professionally preserved, with the process where they surround it with nitrogen so that the fabric doesn't age. It's beautiful. You look so much like her, and you're almost exactly the same size. I was wondering if someday you might want to wear it at your own wedding. To be honest, I haven't been sure one would ever be in the cards for you. Whenever it looked like you were about to get serious with someone, like that FBI agent, you ended the relationship. But then I've never seen you look at any man the way I just saw you look at Castle. Is my little girl growing up?"
"Dad, I think I might be. You're right, I never felt about Will, or anyone, the way I feel about Rick. But he and I have gone through a lot. We've almost died together, and I don't know if that's what's made things so intense, or he really is supposed to be my one and done. I mean, he's been married twice, and he has a daughter and - it's complicated."
"Life is complicated, Katie, but let me ask you a simple question. Do you want your mother's dress? Can you see yourself wearing it to pledge your life to Richard Castle?"
"I do Dad, and I think I can."
"Then you should know, he was looking at you the way you were looking at him. And now I'm going to get the hell out of here and leave you two alone."
Kate wraps her arms around Jim and kisses his cheek. "I love you Dad."
"I love you too, Katie."
After closing the door behind her father, Kate walks back to open the door to her bedroom slowly. Castle is sitting on the bed, wildly scribbling on a small pad of paper. "You really are making notes."
"It's better than pacing around wondering if your father was going to barge in and demand that I vacate the premises and never darken your door again."
Kate giggles. "Babe, I don't know which one of us was knocked more off base, when he showed up, but Dad and I have reached an understanding. He's OK with you being here, or about as OK as any father could be, I guess."
"As a father, I can tell you that may not be as OK as you think, but I'll take anything I can get."
Kate drapes herself across his lap and threads her fingers through his hair. "So, where were we?"
Dropping his notebook on the floor, he pulls her down to their previous position on the purple fabric. "Just about here."
Rick freezes for a moment as Kate reaches for the buttons on his shirt. "Castle, what's wrong?"
"Just waiting to see if we have any more visitors. Aunts, uncles, cousins? Perhaps a long-lost sibling?"
"Well, my Aunt Theresa can be pretty formidable, but she also goes to bed early so she can get up in time to tweet to the family in Europe while they're trying to eat lunch in peace. So I think we're safe."
Castle brushes the hair back from her face. "Kate, there's nothing safe about us."
Straddling his hips, she finishes unfastening his shirt. "I've never gone for safe anyway."
Barely laying down his phone, Bill Bracken slams his palm on the surface of his massive wood desk. Fuck! The police have Lockwood, and Beckett and Castle are still alive. Worse, Lockwood isn't at the Tombs. No one seems to know where he is, only that he'd be under heavy guard. If Flake were still in place, he'd have some idea of just what's going on and how dangerous his situation is. But right now, Bracken's essentially operating in the dark, and he doesn't like it at all.
He mentally goes through the list of his contacts. There's only one who might have an in on where Lockwood is. After law school, Lynn ended up in the D.A.'s office and never left. Other lawyers have come and gone, going on to politics or prestigious positions in law firms, but she's still there. They've stayed in touch over the years, exchanging Christmas cards and occasionally meeting for coffee. She's never told him much about what was happening at her office, but there was a case or two that she found interesting enough to talk about in a general way, that at least gave him some insight into the prevailing attitude in the D.A.'s domain. That information was helpful at times.
He should call her. With any luck, she might have a few free minutes tomorrow. She usually makes time when he calls. He checks his watch — nine o'clock. That's not too late to phone an overworked public servant. It's not too late at all.
It's seven a.m. when Lynn Neuwirth knocks on the door of the District Attorney's office. He's probably been in for an hour already. He's usually the first to arrive and the last to leave, which makes the lawyers serving under him work just that much harder. She enters at his call to come in.
District Attorney Adam Briggs is ten years younger than Lynn, but he looks five years older. His hair is almost entirely gray and rapidly thinning on top. There are arthritic nodules on two of his fingers, and he's already suffered through a double knee replacement. But there is nothing old about his eyes and his mind still moves at lightning speed. "Something happen, Neuwirth?"
"Sir, last night I was contacted by Senator William Bracken. He invited me to have lunch with him. We're meeting at Emile's at one."
"Emile's huh? Just the parking fee there would feed someone for a month. I assume you're planning on taking the subway?"
"Yes, Sir. Bracken seemed very anxious to talk."
Briggs' eyes narrow. "I bet he did. That's good Neuwirth, very good. You let me know what the Senator wants and get whatever else out of him that you can. Your phone has the upgraded recording function?"
"Yes, Sir, it does."
"Very good. We can analyze your conversation with the senator, together."