Miracle at the 12th Precinct
Chapter 12
Title: Marshmallow World (as sung by Dean Martin, because it's cute)
Disclaimer: The cast of Castle, not mine. The other guys, yeah, they're my fault.
A/N: Thanks in advance for reading this chapter; especially since it's been awhile since my last post. R/L tends to get in the way, but my goal is to finish this puppy by Christmas. And yes, I do mean Christmas 2013. LOL, you non-believers. You know who you are. Where we left off... Ryan had safely rescued Kris (aka Santa) and Castle from the bad guys' clutches at the hospital, and then afterwards they all headed back to the precinct for the interviews with Kris, Timmy, and Tommy's co-workers. And now, it's interview time...
Done perusing the reports Karpowski had compiled on the Macy's workers, Beckett prepared to hand out the assignments...
She held up the first one. "Tammy Wilson, aka Mrs. Claus, room one."
Esposito snatched it from her hands before anyone else could grab it. "I'll take that, thank you very much." He dipped his head at the funny look she gave him, pretending not to notice.
"He's got a thing for Southern accents." Ryan explained, noting Beckett's surprise over his partner's sudden enthusiasm. "One of his many, many weaknesses."
"Oh, really...," she replied.
He shot Ryan a dirty look and Beckett a sheepish grin before quickly leaving the room.
"Ryan, you take Sanchez." She glanced over at the kid through the glass and both Ryan and Castle followed her line of vision. Billy was in there alone, talking to himself and grinning, apparently holding a one-man party. She turned back to Ryan. "Karpowski may be on to something with this one; might want to frisk him first." She handed him the report.
Ryan's face scrunched up. "Sure, sure, married guy gets the stoner. Nobody ever wants the stoners." He said, pouting and shaking his head. Beckett stared him down. Apparently she'd run out of patience and now was not the time for argument. "Fine." Resigned to his fate, he dutifully left the room.
"So," Castle said, rubbing his hands together, anxious to get started. "Who should we start with first?"
She'd already made up her mind. "I say we go with Steve Drucker, the photographer. Karpowski said he owes some money, the Mangosas are well-known loan sharks and our missing elf, Tommy, has a gambling problem; could be a connection."
"Sounds like a plan." He said, gallantly holding the door open for her. "Shall we?"
She strolled past him, flipping through the pages of the file as she proceeded down the hall assuming he'd followed her. It took her a moment to notice she was walking alone. She looked back to see where he'd gone off to, surprised to find him headed in the other direction.
"This way, Castle. Where are you going?" She waited as he made his way back.
"Uh, to the supply closet. Where are you going?" he asked, confused. "It'll only take us a few minutes."
"Castle," she whispered, tugging him by the shirtsleeve closer to her so they wouldn't be overheard. "We're in the middle of work. I have an interview to do. I'm not sneaking off to the supply closet with you right now."
My, but she had a dirty mind. He truly loved that about her, and it got him smirking. "You're only opposed to right now? So it's not entirely out of the question then - just at a later date. Duly noted. Not that I'd mind a mid-case tryst with you, Detective, but the supply closet is also where I assume they keep... the Raid."
"Oh." She said, feeling stupid for jumping to conclusions. And here he was only worried about her being near the perv-photographer. "Look, Castle, I'm sure Karpowski was exaggerating. I can handle this guy."
"It's more for me than you, Kate. He sounds like a real sleaze-bag."
She rolled her eyes at him. "Castle, don't be ridiculous. We don't need any stinkin' bug spray. Forget it. I have something much more effective remember; I carry a gun."
"Oh, yeah, your gun. I forgot. Which in itself is funny, since you've reminded me a dozen times since we've met about said gun. Usually it's aimed at me. The remark, not the gun. Although there was that one time..." He was babbling and her patience was exhausted. She sighed, shook her head to the sky, then turned on her heels walking in the direction of the interview room. She felt his eyes glued to her ass, stopped and turned back around. Yeah, he'd been staring. "Well, are you coming, or not?"
Snapping out of his trance, he smiled then sprung into action hurrying to catch up. He loved when Bad-ass Beckett was in the house - wouldn't miss it for the world. "Hell, yeah!"
XXXXXXXXXX
Sometimes, Esposito really loved his job...
Tammy Wilson was a complete knock-out.
"Miss Wilson, I'm Detective Javier Esposito," he said, flashing her a dazzling smile which she matched with one of her own. She straightened her posture, causing the revealing bodice of her costume to rise up and salute him.
"So nice to meet you, Detective." she said, immediately melting him with her soothing Southern tones. They shook hands, and she held on a few seconds longer than was probably necessary; he didn't seem to mind. She gestured to her outfit. "And please, pardon my appearance, but Mrs. Walker just insisted we come down immediately to speak with y'all. There wasn't any time to change."
"No problem." he smiled. "It's very...um, festive."
She smiled back, the glint in her eyes letting him know she knew exactly how much he liked what he saw.
Hot as this girl was, he still found himself thinking of Lanie, which was annoying as hell to him. It was like she was stalking him; even though she'd adamantly refused to commit to an exclusive relationship with him thoughts of her never lingered far.
He couldn't help but wonder if she owned a similar outfit– for the bedroom of course; he'd never let her out of the house with that thing on. The image of his rebellious dark beauty wearing just that; exactly the slap of reality needed to help him re-focus on the case.
He noticed the small table was bare except for her empty coffee cup and that Tammy was watching him intently. He cleared his throat loudly. "Before we start, can I get you another cup of coffee, or maybe a water?" After all, his mother did raise him to have good manners.
"My, my...are all the law enforcement here as sweet as you?"
"No." He said, finding himself blushing.
"Now don't you go worrying yourself about little ol' me, I'm just fine. That very nice officer, JT, I think he said his name was, has already gone and brought me two cups since I've been waiting."
"Oh. Great. Sorry about the wait, but there was some emergency police business to attend to." He pulled out a chair and sat down directly across from her.
"An emergency?" Her hand came to rest over her heart. "I do hope Kris is alright!"
It took him a second to realize she was talking about Henry Jenkins. "Oh, you mean Jenkins...," he replied, pausing at her blank stare. She had no idea who he was talking about. "Yes, Kris, he's just fine."
She visibly relaxed. "Well, thank heavens! We're all still reeling over what happened to poor Timmy," she said, dabbing her wet dark lashes with a Kleenex she'd seemingly pulled from nowhere. "Kris must just be beside himself with grief." He started to sweat and prayed she wouldn't start full-on balling. Nothing made him more uncomfortable than a crying woman. "It's just heart-breaking. Poor, poor Timmy. He was such a darlin'...it's a down-right shame, I tell you. Timmy was real good people."
Espo nodded. "I'm very sorry for your loss, Miss Wilson. That's why you're here, actually. We're hoping you can be of some assistance."
"Why of course, Detective." she nodded. "I'm happy to help the police in any way I can. Any. Way." He would swear later to Ryan that she'd actually batted her eyelashes at him.
"Please, call me Javier." He thought about turning up the air, but then realized it was December in New York.
"Alright then... Javier." She said, testing it out. His given name, rolling off her tongue in a sweet Southern accent, surprisingly, not sounding at all right to him. "And please, call me Tammy. I'll do whatever I can to help. Mrs. Walker said you're looking into the explosion?"
"Yes. We're investigating the bombing and the murder of Timothy Jones and three others."
"Bombing? Murder?" Her eyes widened. "Why I just assumed what happened last night was an accident, caused by a gas leak or something. Who on earth would want to kill a harmless little ol' elf?"
Did she just say an elf? She can't be serious. He must have misheard her. "We do suspect foul play and we're trying to find whoever is responsible. Tammy, we're also investigating the disappearance of Tommy Frost. Can you tell me the last time you saw him?"
"Tommy? Why sure. I saw him last night when we all left work. It was a little after five pm. He walked out with Kris and Timmy." She paused a moment. "Actually, come to think of it. They walked out together, but then while I was waiting at the light to cross the street I happened to turn back and they looked to be arguing. About what...I couldn't say - I was too far away. And then I saw Tommy storm off. I think he was about to get into a cab, but I might be mistaken. I had to be on my way, so that's all I really saw before the light changed and I started on home. What I can tell you is, that boy, well that boy is a whole lotta trouble is what he is; mixes with some unsavory fellows. The kind my momma warned me to stay away from. Oh, that reminds me. You might want to ask his girlfriend, Holly, the one that mostly works the register for us. Odd couple, those two from the looks of things, but some might think they're actually kinda sweet together..."
He jotted down a note about Tommy and Holly. "Have you noticed any peculiar behavior from either Kris, Timmy or Tommy?"
She giggled at that. "Well, Kris is Santa and Timmy and Tommy, well, they are elves...it's all a might peculiar, you've got to admit. Not sure how they're all supposed to be acting. Don't mind sayin', we don't get many elves back in Charleston, Detective, I mean Javier." She grinned widely at him and then giggled.
"No, I reckon you don't." She had a great smile, but a pretty whack sense of humor, as far as he was concerned.
Her giggle had him assuming she'd only been joking around and he found himself grinning back in spite of himself. He thought about what Karpowski had said earlier about Tammy, but then again, his fellow detective was known to be pretty straight-laced. She probably just read Tammy wrong. Obviously, this woman knew Santa was fictional and that Timmy and Tommy were only playing the roles of elves as part of their job descriptions.
"They took their roles pretty seriously then?" He chuckled.
She seemed confused by the question. "Pardon?"
"What I meant was, Timmy and Tommy played "elves" ...as part of their jobs. They really got into it."
She tilted her head and sized him up as if deciding whether or not he could be trusted. She must have made up her mind. "No, sweetie," she replied, leaning over conspiratorially, her cleavage rising with her every movement. He found himself eerily mesmerized by her and drew closer, focusing on her eyes to avoid looking lower.
"I know, I know it sounds crazy, but they weren't play acting." Then her eyes went wide as she whispered to him. "They were both real, honest to god elves. And Kris...oh my lands, he's, well he truly is the one and only Santa Claus." Feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her ample chest she sat back, let out a deep breath and fanned herself.
Speechless, Esposito's mouth hung open. She took this as confusion on his part. "You know, like from the North Pole." she explained. "Ain't that just the neatest thing ever?"
Esposito stared at her for a moment before nodding and smiling politely. "Yeah, that's very... um, neat."
On that note, he pulled out some photos to show her of the Mangosa's and their gang. "Miss Wilson, I need to show you some pictures now. Let's see if you can identify any of these men ..."
He watched her study the photos carefully. She sure was a beautiful woman. It was a shame she was also nuts.
Sometimes, Esposito really hated his job...
XXXXXXXXXX
Ryan snuck a peak at Billy Sanchez through the glass pane of the closed door, bowed his head and let out a heavy sigh. Billy sat slouched at the table, his long legs stretched out beneath it, resting on the chair directly across. The kid was still freaking talking to himself. Ryan opened the door and stepped into the room.
Billy looked up when Ryan entered but made no attempt to sit upright. He greeted Ryan with a lopsided grin. "Hey, Dude. S'up?"
"Mr. Sanchez, I'm Detective Kevin Ryan." He reached over, offering his hand. In lieu of a handshake the kid balled up his fist and the two awkwardly bumped knuckles instead.
"Yo, a Detective-dude. Very cool. Very cool indeed." The kid seemed duly impressed.
"How about we just call me, Detective Ryan."
"Got it, Dude. Detective Ryan. It's all good. Friends call me, The Billster."
Ryan nodded as he took in the costume Billy was wearing. It was impossible not to stare. The kid was dressed head to toe in bright green, complete with matching leotards. He was a stoned Jolly Green Giant; it was more than a little unnerving.
Billy simply grinned at him. "Dude, don't judge me. It's not really such a bad gig, but wasn't my first choice, believe me." He straightened his green collar. "Blame my mother. Threatened to kick my ungrateful ass out of the house if I didn't find a job. Hard to believe, I know. But it's not as easy as you'd think for an amiable fellow, such as myself, to find a job due to one or two unfortunate misunderstandings with Johnny-law," he shrugged. "I'm a new man now. Macy's they took me in, gave me a job, and now I don't have to sleep in the park anymore." He tilted his head and spaced out a few seconds, staring at the wall like he was trying to remember something. "Oh, yeah, come to think of it, they did try to fire me a few times, but Kris, he talked them out of it. Love that guy; he's one righteous dude." He fist-pumped the air. "Guess it helps to have friends in high places, right." He said, pointing North and chuckling at his use of the word "high". "Anyhoo, if Macy's wants to pay me to prance around all day in a pair of little girl's tights, so I can put them onto Santa's lap, well then, I'm their guy. Beats sleeping in the park. Right dude?"
Ryan smiled and nodded. He'd been doing a lot of that lately and decided it was working for him. Certain the rest of this interview was going to be a total waste of time he decided to speed things up. Tugging on the chair opposite Sanchez he prepared to take a seat. A few extra-hard shakes and the kid's feet fell to the ground causing The Billster to sit upright.
"Yo, sorry, Detective-dude. Forgot my manners."
"No problem," Ryan said, amiably, and forcing a smile. He sat down, spread out his files, and then pulled out a pen and notepad.
"So, um, Billster, do you know why you're here today?"
"Woah. Dude. Do any of us really know?"
"Right." First, a near death experience at the hospital, and now this. Ryan wasn't sure which part of his day was worse. The lines were all blurry – not as blurry as say the Billster's lines, but all in all, pretty blurry. "Actually, I meant did Detective Karpowski explain to you why you were called down to the precinct to talk to us today?"
"Oh, yeah. That Lady Detective-dude said it's because of what happened to the Timster. That's pretty messed up, what happened to the little guy. He was an awesome little dude. Gave me pointers on how to act more elf-like and all. Except for when, like Kris, he'd rag on me about going back to school. Other than that though he was alright. Who'd want to hurt a nice little dude like that?"
"That's what we're trying to find out Billy. What can you tell me about Tommy Frost? And have you seen him since yesterday? We're looking for him. We think he might be able to help us find the people responsible for the bombing."
"Bombing!" His bloodshot eyes bulged. "What bombing?"
"The bombing... that took place last night killing Timmy and injuring Santa."
"Oh, right. The bombing. Sorry, total brain fart. No, I haven't seen him since yesterday at work." Billy's face suddenly went ashen. "Hey, Santa's going to be okay, right? He's got to be okay! Christmas is like almost here." He ran his hands through his hair, panic-stricken, having finally realized the gravity of the situation. "The little dudes and dudettes – they're all counting on him..."
"Yes, Billy, Santa's going to be fine, don't worry. The police are taking good care of him."
Billy's glazed eyes studied Ryan questioning whether or not he was telling the truth. He decided the detective-dude looked pretty honest and could be trusted. "Woah. Cool. Cause, I mean that would totally suck. He must be really bummed-out about The Timster." He said, thoughtfully.
"Yes, he is."
"Hey, why is everyone looking for The Tomster? You don't think he did this, do you? Cause he's a weird little fucker, don't mind my French, but there's no way he'd ever hurt his best bud. Sure, they fought all the time but those two, they were like bros; way-tight, man; always whispering back and forth to each other and all. They were like this." He crossed his fingers, and held them up, presenting them to Ryan.
"No. We just need to ask him some questions. He might be able to help us find whoever's responsible for hurting Santa, Timmy, and the other people who died last night." Ryan put on the most serious face he could muster then waited until he had Billy's complete attention, which was to say the least, a crap-shoot. "The same people that did this may also be trying to hurt Tommy. He could be in danger, so it's very, very important you call me right away if Tommy reaches out to you or if you remember anything else, anything that you think might be related to the case. Can you do that for me, Billster – for me and for Santa? He needs you on this one, man. The police need you. Help us save Christmas. You'd be sort of like a deputy."
Billy took the business card from Ryan's hands and stared at it. "Woah. For Santa, man. Yeah, I'll call you if I see or hear anything, promise, but like I told you before and that other old guy this morning, I haven't seen or heard from the little dude since yesterday."
Ryan's eyes popped out of his head. "Dude, you think I'm old?"
Billy didn't know what to say to that. "Uh..."
Although devastated, Ryan forced himself to focus on what was important. He shook it off. "What other guy, Billster?"
"Huh?"
"What other old guy asked you about Tommy this morning, Billy?" he repeated, rubbing his temples. The kid was starting to give him a headache.
Billy looked down at the pile of photos in front of Ryan on the table and pointed to the picture of BB Balboa, Drago's henchman. "Don't know his name but...looks a lot like him."
"Billy this is Bernie Balboa, also goes by the nickname BB. Are you sure this the man you spoke to earlier?"
He studied the photo."Yup. That's him. Not a cool dude, man. He was hanging outside the store when I got there this morning. I've seen him before, said he's a friend of Tommy's and he was looking for him; little dude had lots of friends, man. But I told him just what I told you - ain't seen him. Scary-dude said he'd be back and if I saw The Tomster, I'd better be square about it with him, or else. Said he's got something that belongs to him and he wants it back. Told him I didn't know anything about it. Said I'm just supposed to give The Tomster the message. That guy really needs to chill his bones, dude. He's way uptight."
"Yeah, I bet. Billy, I need you to tell me about the other times you saw him visit Tommy and all about these other friends Tommy had stop by..."
"Aye, Aye, Detective-dude." Billy replied, saluting. "Anything for Santa. He's the man..."
A/N: Another chapter will be posted tomorrow. Please review and Thanks for reading! Karen