A Fly in the Garden: Chapter 20
DISCLAIMER: Most of these characters are not mine at all, but they are memorable. Thank you, Mr. Marlowe. The others? Yeah, they're mine
Tuesday Morning, February 21, 2012 – 6:48 a.m. – At Richard Castle's Home in Sausalito
The Ferrari roars to life and slowly backs out of the garage, easily gliding down the incline that rises from the street to Castle's driveway. The morning fog is heavy in the air, casting a pale, white shadow across the neighborhood and mountainside. The frequent fog show has become a Richard Castle favorite of the Bay Area. It always reminds him of the mystery story he has yet to write, the still-undiscovered masterpiece he has yet to pen. He smiles as they pull out, down the driveway from his home that is built into the side of the rocky hill and turn onto the road, headed to the complex.
"Can't wait to get there," he says smiling, glancing at his passenger. Kate simply returns his smile, squeezing his hand as she glances out through the passenger window.
He wants to spend some time at the Castles Complex this morning, and is looking forward to a day 'back at the office", meeting with a couple of the residents. He spent much of last night in Kate's arms feeling guilty, feeling like he is losing focus, losing his priority, feeling like he is slowly slipping away from his reason for picking the West Coast in the first place. Sure, he was running from something – or someone to be more accurate – but he was also running to something. Something better, something important. Something that is suddenly taking a back seat to the interesting case de jour that inevitably continues to pop up.
Kate had tried to remind him that the only reason he is even interested in the current case of the missing women is because of Pamela Hamilton. Had her daughter not been taken, it is highly probable that Castle wouldn't even be involved with the case.
"It's safe to say that even I probably wouldn't be involved had Pamela not brought this to our attention, Rick," she had told him last night. He had reluctantly agreed.
"The fact that this is her daughter is what pulled us into this in the first place. Were it not for Pamela, the only one of us who would likely be looking into this would have been Jennifer, and she would probably still be back at square one – where she was when you and I got involved."
Regardless, he is anxious to get to his complex, to see how his residents – people he now feels responsible for – are progressing. For a few seconds, they both are quiet as he starts down the road. Kate continues glancing out through the window – or so it looks to Castle. In reality, from the passenger's side mirror, Kate notices the dark gray Porsche Cayenne that slowly pulled out behind them. The windows on the SUV are darkened, only heightening her senses further. Senses honed by years with the NYPD. Senses that have told her that she has never seen this car parked there before, and even though she has only been here three months, Castle has introduced her to the immediate neighbors. She recognizes the sign of a tail immediately.
"We've got company," she tells Castle, while still glancing at the car in the mirror.
"Really?" Castle says excitedly, some of the old exuberance leaking out. She shakes her head with a smile.
"Uh, that's not a good thing, Rick," she snickers.
"Then why are you smiling," he counters with a smile of his own. "C'mon, Beckett, you know this just makes it more exciting. That just means we know we are on to something."
"No, Rick," she counters herself, this time losing the smile. "It means that someone is on to us. Someone knows we know something. That's makes this dangerous."
"Wait a second," he say suddenly, now quickly realizing that whoever these people are who are following them, he is getting ready to take them to the complex . . . and to the women who have come there thinking it could be their safe haven away from the violence that has targeted them.
"We can't just let them follow us to the complex," he tells her, now all indications of humor and playfulness disappearing.
"What are you doing?" he asks as he watches her pull her phone out from her purse.
"Warning Jennifer," she tells him. "If someone is following us, then perhaps she might have a tail as well."
A few seconds later, Jennifer picks up on the second ring.
"What'cha got?" the SFPD detective asks her friend.
"A tail on our rear, that's what," Kate tells her. "Check your six as well."
"Call you back," Jennifer tells her, hanging up, and quickly makes an unexpected left turn down into the parking lot of a local restaurant. She drives around, and parks. She stays in the car for a moment, checking in her rear view mirror to see if anyone has followed her, or stopped up on the road above. She waits a few minutes until she is satisfied that no one is on her, then returns to her call, dialing Kate's number.
"All clear here," she says immediately when Kate answers. "Do I need to turn around?"
"No," Kate says quickly. "Stick with the plan. Jimmy knows that the police are on to him. His shift ends in less than fifteen minutes," she continues, glancing at her watch. "We want him to see a bit of a police presence when he pulls in to the depot this morning."
"Okay, but are you sure you don't want –"
"I'm sure, Jen," Kate interrupts. "Just make sure he sees your car, but not you."
"I know," her friend tells her. "You keep me posted, and keep your eyes open."
"Always," Kate tells her, which brings a wicked smile back to Castle's face for a moment as Kate hangs up the call and puts her phone back into her purse.
"Do I have something to be worried about there, my love?" he asks, wiggling he eyes.
"No," she tells him, now focused again on the tail in the mirror. "And if you say anything voyeuristic, I swear I will break your . . . well, I will figure out something painful for you."
"Promises, promises," he tells her with a smirk, but quickly refocuses as he glances in the rearview mirror at the car tailing them, with a small Fiat separating them.
"They aren't very good at this," he tells Kate, shaking his head as he glances in the mirror again. "It's almost as if they aren't even trying to hide themselves."
"I have the same feeling as you," she admits. "You'd think that someone who is pulling off such an elaborate plan for taking women, keeping it hidden as well as they have would have more experienced trailers in their . . ."
"What, Kate?" he asks, noticing her sudden silence. He glances at her as he continues.
"Why'd you stop –"
"Castle!" Kate screams, looking past him through the driver's side window at the rapidly approaching car. The sickening crunch that accompanies the t-boning crash rings in her ears. She feels herself thrown sideways into her door, her seatbelt holding tight. Castle is thrown towards her, his belt also holding while he screams out in pain. The car skids sideways for a few feet, coming to a stop just short of a bank of trees that line a large parking lot, less than two miles from Castle's home.
"Rick!" she exclaims in his ear as he slumps slightly forward, grabbing his left arm. She wiggles her fingers, then arms and legs, quickly making sure that nothing is out of sorts. But her eyes stay focused on Castle's left arm that now hangs limply at his side.
"Rick, are you all right?!" she asks, loudly.
"My ears are fine, Kate," he offers with a pained smile, "but I believe my arm might be broken."
"Stay put – don't move," she tells him as she quickly exits the car on her side, and jogs around to his side to assess the damage. Fortunately, the oncoming car slammed into them about just inches behind Castle's seat and door. The back end of the driver's door is caved in sharply, explaining the injury to Castle's arm. That door isn't going to open, so she quickly moves around the front of the car, trying to get back to her side. She will have to open pull him out through her side, and that's not going to be pretty, she realizes.
Then it hits her – almost with the same force as the accident that has just befallen them.
The car is gone.
Whoever did this has taken off. She glances up and down the road quickly, now searching for the dark Porsche, cursing herself.
"Damn amateur," she grumbles aloud, realizing now that the tail on them was nothing more than a decoy, following carelessly to ensure it was visible. All of their focus had been on the tail and not the real threat that was waiting at the intersection ahead.
She glances in through the front windshield at Castle, who gives her a thumbs up with his good right hand, then reaches in her pockets, and throws her head back in disgust. Jogging back to the passenger side, she opens her door and reaches on the floor for her purse when she sees her phone partially under her seat, thrown out of her purse during the accident. Retrieving the phone, she quickly dials 911, as she glances at Castle.
"Are you okay, babe?" she asks, "besides the arm, I mean."
"I'm good, I'm good," he tells her, but she can see the pain in his eyes as she risks another glance at his arm. Now she can clearly see that it is hanging at an odd angle.
"That bad?" he winces between sharp breaths, noticing the face she has made as she stared at his arm.
"Yeah, it looks pretty –"
She stops in mid-sentence as the 911 operator responds.
"911, what is the nature of your call?"
"Car accident, Bridgeway and West Harbor," she replies after a quick glance at the side street sign. "Hit and run, we were just t-boned."
"Are there any injuries, ma'am?"
"Yes, the driver has sustained a broken arm," she replies officiously, years and years of training taking over in the midst of an emergency. "The car is immobilized. We are going to need an ambulance to take him to the nearest hospital."
"Dispatching now, ma'am. I am also sending a squad car there."
A few instructions later, and Kate hangs up, and puts the phone into her pocket and then leans across the seat, reaching for Castle's good arm.
"This is going to hurt, babe, but we have got to get you out of the car," she tells him. He simply nods his head, realizing that his respite is over. Steeling himself, he tries to swing his legs up and over the middle dash. No go – not enough room.
"Didn't you ever make out in a car, Castle?" she asks with a chuckle, trying to keep things light. "I figured you'd know your way around any car by now."
"Laugh it up, Magnum Beckett," he gives her, trying to match her levity and failing.
"C'mon Rick," she tells him. "Turn your back towards me – just a bit – that's it – a bit more –"
She starts to pull him, ignoring the yelp of pain that he releases, knowing she's got to get him out of here. Yeah, the car that hit them is gone, but who knows who – or what – is waiting for them here. It is clear that this was no 'accident'. That car was waiting in the intersection for them. Which means whoever is behind this knew where they were going this morning. Or at the very minimum, positioned themselves there at the instruction of the 'amateurs' who were tailing them.
"Dammit," she grouses to herself again, angry that she didn't see this coming, and angry at the cost her partner is paying.
Half a minute later, she is hoisting Castle to his feet outside the passenger side of the car. She can see the sweat on his brow from the exertion.
"Babe?" she asks.
"Seeing stars . . . I'm okay," he winces again. He straightens himself up, holding his arm in place, realizing that shock is probably taking over now. That's when he notices it.
"Who hit us?" he asks, glancing around. "Where'd they go?"
"That's the twenty thousand dollar question, babe," she replies. "They're gone. Hit and run. Probably set up by the folks tailing us."
"But why?" he wonders aloud.
"That one there – babe – is worth a lot more than twenty thousand dollars." She strokes his hear, kissing him lightly on the lips.
"Lean here," she tells him, pulling him back to the front side of the car, knowing he needs to take a bit off his legs. She holds him just enough to keep him steady.
"Damn, my left arm too," he complains.
"There's my writer," she smiles. "Ambulance will be here soon, babe."
"Marin General," he tells her.
"What?"
"That's where they will take us. Take me. Less than fifteen minutes away. Call Mike. Let him know. Put him on alert."
"On alert?" she asks, and then it hits her as well. The fact that neither their attacker nor their tail has stuck around hints that their intent was simply to slow them down, prevent them from getting to their destination.
"Let him know what has happened," he repeats. "He will know what to do."
"Okay," she replies, taking her phone out again. "And I need to call Jennifer. Need to warn her that things just got serious."
At the same time, about five miles away, on Highway 101 heading north
"No sir, they aren't going anywhere," Benny tells Donovan, speaking via bluetooth through his phone. "That car is shut down for the count, for now."
"Good, good," Donovan tells him. "You know what to do next." Donovan breaks the connection as Benny glances around checking the traffic as he travels northward.
"Where are we going now?" Randy asks him from the passenger seat.
"To the airstrip," Benny replies with a smile. "We've got a chopper to catch, and a compound to case out," he continues, already anxious at the thought of a night raid on the unsuspecting complex. Who knows, with a little luck, they might run into a bit of fun while they are at it. He smiles at the thought as he steps on the accelerator.
Same time, in a Parking Lot some thirty feet from Castle and Beckett on Bridgeway
"Yes, sir – they both seem to be okay. I think Castle has a broken arm. Other than that, he will live."
"And their tail, you have the license?"
"Yes, sir," William Crockett replies, spitting the toothpick out of his window and quickly replacing it with a new one. He scratches his bald, black head as he talks through the speakerphone in his car. "Texting it to you now," he tells him.
"Thank you, Willie," Sam Carlos answers. "And the car that struck them?"
"Pulled back and took off," Willie replies. "Nothing high speed, just did enough damage to stop them."
"Where are they now, Willie?"
"Well, the offending car, I don't know. I'm going to assume they are together by now. But the Porsche is on 101, traveling north right now," he tells his boss glancing at his iPad tablet that is mapping out the route. The tracer he placed on the Porsche in the middle of the night is working perfectly.
"Okay, that's good," Carlos tells him. "And Jennifer? She is all right?
"Junior Boy is following her," Willie responds, bringing a smile to Sam's face. Having one of his top soldiers on Jennifer gives him peace of mind.
"Okay, okay, that is nice work, Willie," Sam tells him.
"But I didn't do a damn thing to stop them, sir," Willie argues. "I could have gotten in front –"
"And had you stopped this, we wouldn't know who is behind all of this, Willie. As it is, they believe they have gotten away clean. They believe they are in the clear. That's going to cost them. Whatever their plan is, we now can track them and eventually predict what comes next."
"Then I get to go to work?" Willie asks, just a hint of menace leaking through.
"Oh yes, my friend," Sam smiles. "I promise you, you will have a chance to dance very, very soon." Carlos breaks the connection, and loses his smile quickly. Clearly, Castle, Kate and Jennifer have struck a nerve somewhere. And an angry nerve bites back – hard. Sam has done his homework, however, and he knows that his priority right now is protecting Jennifer. Jennifer can take her of herself – yes – but who knows who she is up against, and whether or not any of her squad-mates are involved. As for Castle? Again, he has done his homework, and he knows the security force that Castle has onsite at his complex. His homework has been thorough, and he flips through a few pages in front of him on his desk.
Mike Monroe. Lindy Matthews. Dawn Harrison. Colin Alexander. Jerry Flynn. Marcus Duncan.
He continues to flip through the pages, barely containing his admiration for the team that Castle has assembled. All ex-military. Most of them highly decorated. All with combat experience. And the Matthews woman, her file is mostly redacted. Whoever she is – whatever she is – he realizes that he likely has no one on his staff that he would put up against this woman.
No, whatever is going to happen out at Richard Castle's compound can be dealt with by his small army out there. Jennifer remains his top priority.
Still – friendships in his world mean more than anything – friendships are family. He picks up his phone, and places a call. He sits back, allowing one ring, then a second, and a third before the familiar voice answers.
"Beckett," she replies. "I take it this call is no coincidence, Sam?" At the mention of Carlos' name, Castle turns with an upraised eyebrow.
"Correct as usual, Katie," he replies casually. "I am making sure you are all right."
She considers his words for a few seconds, squeezing her lips together for a brief instant, before answering.
"I'm guessing you had us tailed as well," she finally tells him, as she places the call on speakerphone so that Castle can listen in. It is not a question.
"Of course," he answers as if it was the most natural thing in the world. In truth, for him, it is exactly that.
"Just keeping my friends safe," he continues.
"Well, Sam, I think you missed this time," she replies with a long breath. "We were ambushed – which I'm sure you already realize –"
"Yes," he replies, giving her that and nothing else.
"And Castle's arm is broken," she continues. "So I wouldn't exactly say that we are –"
"You're alive, Katie," he reminds her, in such a matter-of-fact tone. "That's what I care about. A few bumps and bruises will go away. I don't mind a hospital visit. It's funerals for friends that I try to prevent."
"So," she continues, "I am guessing you know who did this to us?"
"Who? No, I'm afraid not," he admits. "Where they are at this moment? Yes, that much I know." He glances at the flashing blip on his computer. Willie has sent him the link along with the license plate number.
"Right now they are . . ." He pauses for a moment, zooming in on their location. "Hmmm"
"What is it, Sam?" she asks.
"It appears they have stopped at the San Francisco Helicopter Tour facility."
"Off 101?" Castle winces, then turns his head as he hears the approaching sirens from the ambulance in the distance.
"Hello Mr. Castle," Carlos tells him, engagingly. "I'd ask how you are doing, but Kate has already filled me in."
"Yes, well, I'm more interested right now in knowing why they want a chopper," Castle replies.
"My first guess, Mr. Castle, is that if I were going to attack your complex out there, I'd want to get a lay of the land first."
Castle and Kate exchange a quick look, both thankful that she has already placed a call to Mike Monroe. Still, they will have to give him this new bit of information.
"Okay, copy that Sam," Kate finally tells him. "Can you do me a favor, please Sam? Can you –"
"I've already got eyes on Jennifer," he tells her. "She is sitting at the MUNI depot right now, and she is in good hands, I promise you."
"Thank you, Sam," she tells him, as Castle joins in, both realizing that he does –indeed – have eyes on their friend.
"Yes, thank you," Castle tells him as he slowly begins walking toward the ambulance that has just pulled up. In the distance, police sirens are singing out in the morning as the local police make their way to the accident site. The pain slowly begins to overtake him as the first paramedic reaches him. Seconds later, Kate is sitting beside him as he lies on a gurney in the large vehicle, answering question as best he can. Her mind, however, is far away as she thinks about the women at the complex. Women who believe that they are safe, right now. She realizes this is going to be a long day . . . and possibly an even longer night.