Shared Obsession Chapter 76
As Theresa and Alfred sit at their dining table, Castle comes in with Angela, complete with bunny and carrot, in his arms. Beckett is at his side with Sorenson as close behind as he can get. Alfred springs up, holding out his arms. "Angela! Mi corazón! She's all right? She isn't hurt?" he asks Beckett.
"The medics took a look at her. She's fine," Beckett reassures him.
Cuddling his daughter, Alfred turns to his stone-faced wife. "Theresa, she's home! What's the matter?"
Theresa's lips press together in a thin line as fear flashes in her eyes.
"What's going on?" Alfred asks.
"Crawford, can you take Angela into her room?" Sorenson requests.
Alfred grudgingly hands his daughter over to the FBI tech. The carrot falls to the floor as the bunny wobble's in the child's grasp. Castle produces another one from his pocket. "Here, can't let your friend go hungry."
Alfred's eyes follow Angela until Crawford has her out of earshot. He whirls on Theresa. "What did you do?"
"I worked 14-hour days year after year, killing myself so that we could have a life," she retorts. "And what did you do, Alfred? Oh, you painted. All you did was paint."
"That's not true!" Alfred argues.
"Really?" Theresa returns. "What about that job you were going to get so I could cut my hours?"
"I was taking care of Angela."
"Taking care?" Theresa echoes. "You left her there in front of the TV – every day." Theresa turns beseechingly to the others in the room. "Do you know how many times I woke up to her screams because he was in his studio, blasting music in his ears?"
"That doesn't give you the right to kidnap your own child," Beckett responds.
"How is it kidnapping?" Theresa demands. "She's my daughter."
"Ms. Candela," Beckett replies, "you had your sister climb through the window and take her."
"I gave her permission," Theresa claims.
"It doesn't matter," Kate insists. "You violated your husband's custodial rights."
Laughter rasps from Theresa's throat. "Rights? He didn't even notice that she was gone. What kind of father does that to his two-year-old child?"
Tears spill from Alfred's eyes. "Why would you do this? Why would you put us through that? Why not just divorce me?"
"Oh, so you could sue me for alimony?" Theresa spits back. "So that you can get half of everything? So you can get control of Angela because I'm at work all day and you can 'be there for her?' No! I've seen what happens to guys at work. I saw what happened to Doug Ellers. No way was that going to happen to me."
"And by paying ransom to yourself, you put Alfred on record as negligent and made sure there were no assets he could attach," Castle figures. "For a character in a Lifetime movie that would be fiendishly clever. But in the real world, tearing your family apart like that, taking your child out of your home, and monopolizing God knows how many members of law enforcement who could be protecting others from real danger is reprehensible."
"And very illegal," Kate adds.
Alfred sinks into a chair opposite his wife. "How could you hate me so much?"
"You made it easy," Theresa replies.
As she fills out her report, Kate gazes at Castle sitting silently in his chair next to her desk. "You're never this quiet. Are you all right?"
"I was thinking about Angela. Her mother's probably going to prison. The same for her aunt. Her father could be declared unfit. She could go into the system. She doesn't deserve that."
"It may not happen that way. There was more to the story Juan Restrepo told Sorenson. While Juan was in Iraq an IED went off under his Humvee. He was injured. That's why he got to come home and the injury meant he, uh, um, couldn't um, you know, father any more children. So, he is going to petition the court for custody of Angela. As the biological father and a vet with a job, he stands a good chance of succeeding."
"And when Angela grows up, she probably won't even remember the Candelas," Castle considers. "That could be a live happily ever after ending. I hope it works out that way."
"Yeah, me too."
"So, now that the case of the missing toddler's been solved, are you free Saturday night? You did promise me a date."
"I remember."
"So?"
"We're on, Castle."
"Castle, this theater's empty," Kate notes as she regards a sea of unoccupied seats in front of a movie screen.
"I know," he acknowledges. "I bought it out. I wanted to make sure there weren't any cell phones going off or teenagers groping each other in the next row. If there's any groping to be done, we can do it without fear of observation."
"What if we just want to watch the movie?" Kate inquires.
"We can grope – or whatever – later. Alexis is at a sweet sixteen sleepover. We have the whole night to do whatever we want. But I did get us a reservation at the Concert Chamber for after the movie."
"The Concert Chamber?"
'It's a new restaurant with a bunch of little private rooms. They provide the food and the patrons make their own kind of music."
"I'm sensing a trend here, Castle."
"I wanted to have some time alone with you. No Ryan. No Esposito."
"No Sorenson."
"Especially no Sorenson. But if you don't like the Concert Chamber, I can always get us a table at Le Cirque."
"And end up on Page Six as the dinner companion of the bestselling author? No thanks." The room fills with music. "Looks like they're starting the trailers and promos. We probably have twenty minutes until the movie actually starts."
"Nope. Part of my buyout was for commercial-free viewing. Behold and enjoy."
"The Incredible Shrinking Man from the '50s! How did you get them to play that? Even the Angelika hasn't shown it."
"You mentioned that you liked Matheson. And I rather enjoyed how the book originally ended. It was mucked up in the movie after being shown to a test audience. But this version is restored to what Matheson originally envisioned."
As a housecat attacks a smaller-than-mouse-sized Scott Carey, Kate clings to Castle's hand. Her head rests on his shoulder as the final credits roll. "They don't make them like that anymore," Castle declares as the lights come on. "Hungry?"
"Starved."
Kate gazes around the restaurant's version of a private chamber. It reminds her a little of a scene from Funny Girl in which Nicky Arnstein is trying to seduce Fanny, who feels decidedly out of her depth when faced with a gourmet spread adjacent to a lushly upholstered couch. Kate is no innocent virgin who's never heard of paté, and Castle is no Omar Sharif. And it won't be the first time they've been together. Still, she can't help feeling a little nervous.
A formally dressed server wheels in a trolley with Champagne in an ice bucket, crystal flutes, an array of cloche-covered platters, a stack of small plates, and various utensils. "Help yourselves to whatever you like from the chef's special tasting menu. No one will invade your privacy, but," he points to a button on the wall, "you can use that if you need anything."
Castle presses a $100 bill into the man's hand. "I appreciate it."
"Thank you, Sir, Ma'am. Enjoy your evening."
Castle grabs the bottle of chilled wine and begins to loosen the wire cage over the cork when he stops short and gazes at the door. "You don't think there are any crazed gunmen out there do you?"
Kate smothers a giggle. "I think a gun would spoil the lines of the tuxedos."
Castle grins as the cork makes its exit with a subdued pop. "Then let the feasting commence."
