Shared Obsession Chapter 90
Castle points to a large safe. "What do you think is in there?"
Kate studies the complicated locking mechanism. "I don't know. It must be something Simmons wanted to protect. But if something's in there that connects him to Bracken, wouldn't the killer take it?"
"Maybe he did. But maybe he didn't have the combination or the skills to overcome the tech. Or maybe, someone scared him off before he could blow the thing." Castle speculates.
"Someone like Anderson Cross?" Kate asks.
"It would make sense," Castle figures. "He's had eyes on the situation, enough to tip me about Simmons's murder. And he said we'd find evidence about your mother's killer."
"But why would he care?" Kate wonders.
Castle shrugs. "Why the agency cares about what the agency cares about is often far from clear, and sometimes totally opaque. I think the powers that be like it that way. It makes them unpredictable. But whatever might be behind what Cross is doing, we need to get into that safe. You want me to call Powell?"
Kate shakes her head. "Any smart lawyer would get anything from a safe Powell opened thrown out. We need to get Tech in here to hack it, and if that doesn't work, get ESU to blow it. But if the killer really was scared off before he could finish his business here, he may have left prints, DNA, something, behind. Before anyone messes with the safe, CSU will have to go over every inch of the place."
Castle regards the concrete cave. "That's going to take a long time – maybe too long."
Kate puts a hand on his shoulder. "I've waited this long. We've waited this long. If we're going to nail that sonofabitch we need to make sure there are no legal loopholes he can slip through. I've already called CSU. But in the meantime, let's document everything we can observe. Do you see anything that looks out of place?"
"Besides a sultan's bedchamber in a body shop?" Castle questions.
"Besides that."
"This place is set up to work on undercarriages. And it doesn't use lifts. It has pits for under the cars."
"That's not unusual for a car repair shop, Castle," Kate points out.
"No, but body shops do most of their work above ground level. If a car is in a severe enough collision to damage the chassis, it could never drive right again. The insurance company would probably total the thing and sell it for scrap."
"And you know this how?" Kate asks.
"A couple of unfortunate incidents when I first came into money and was able to purchase the car of my – actually my girlfriend at the time's dreams. That's what you get when you pen a bestseller before your brain finishes developing. But anyway, I could see a place like this having one pit or lift, but three? They were doing something under the cars. Probably something illegal."
"Like fitting them out to transport drugs in a spot a cop couldn't claim is easily observable?" Kate guesses.
"Drugs or maybe something with an even denser value. And if the killer didn't have time to check the safe, he wouldn't have had time to check the cars either."
"Or maybe he did," Kate considers, "and that's where CSU will find evidence. Either way, I'll make sure they look. Anything else?"
"Why do you think Simmons had a thing for Lincolns?"
"Maybe the cars are easier to turn into courier vehicles," Kate speculates.
"Could be," Castle allows, "but they'd also be more noticeable. If you want to hide in traffic, you don't drive a luxury car. That's one of the reasons I always had Storm drive Fords. There are so many of them on the road. And all of these can't have just come in here to be fixed – not in this neighborhood. Maybe Simmons has a source we can trace. There aren't that many Lincoln dealers in the Metro area."
"No, there aren't," Kate agrees. "And that's one thing we can check while CSU and the others are doing their jobs."
Castle pulls out his phone and quickly enters a query. "Closest Lincoln dealer is in Queens."
"This place has more flags than the United Nations," Castle notes as brightly colored plastic pennants surrounding Deluxe Dealers of Queens snap in the breeze. "But at least they don't have a blow-up monstrosity that looms over everything. Those are scary."
"Castle, you stroll into a triad den of tattooed Russians but you're scared of a tube guy?"
"What can I say? They're creepy. But moving right along, it looks like the place carries a substantial stock of Lincolns. And there's nothing like a test drive to get a sales guy talking."
"Castle, the last time I took a test drive in a car I was with my father. The sales guy was an Australian who made a point of saying the car had a vanity mirror for me."
"Bad move! I take it he didn't sell the car."
"I made sure Dad boycotted the place. That wasn't hard. My Mother wouldn't have appreciated the comment either. And I stuck with my bike. Oh! Looks like a sales guy heading this way."
A smiling man in a suit, tie, shined shoes, and hair stubbornly resisting the breeze, trots toward the couple. "Jeremiah Lowe," he says eagerly shaking their hands. "Everyone just calls me Jerry. How can Deluxe Dealers serve your needs today?"
"I'm Rick. We're looking for a Lincoln," Castle explains. He puts his hand at Beckett's waist and gazes down adoringly. "Kate here read that book, The Lincoln Lawyer, and fell in love with the car. So I thought we'd see if we could find one she likes."
Lowe's eyes light up. "I can certainly help you with that. The book featured a Town Car, didn't it?"
"It did!" Kate replies excitedly.
Castle nods his appreciation. "Well done, Sir."
Lowe sweeps his arm toward an aisle of cars. "Right this way."
As they approach a Lincoln Town Car, Kate tugs on Castle's arm. "I want to drive, Honey."
"Of course you do," Castle replies. "Put the lady behind the wheel," he tells Jerry, winking. "I'll get in the back to test out the maneuvering room – if you know what I mean."
Jerry gives a thumbs up. "I understand. I'll need to see her driver's license."
Kate hands it over, glad they hadn't tried using false names.
Jerry hands it back. "Great. Now, you'll find the seat is fully adjustable. You get comfortable and I guarantee you won't want to leave."
"So, Jerry, you sell a lot of these?" Castle asks as Kate drives off the lot.
"Turn right," Jerry instructs. "And to answer your question, Rick, we sell quite a few."
"I haven't seen many on the road," Rick prompts.
"They're more popular in some places around the city than others," Jerry explains. "And certain buyers love them."
"Really? Who besides my lady, loves them?" Rick probes.
"You know, people who spend a lot of time on the road and need a vehicle they can work in and enjoy. There's a sales organization up in Washington Heights that won't drive anything else. We just sold four to them."
"That would be quite a commission. Did you make the sale?" Castle asks.
"I wish I did," Jerry confesses. "But the owner of the dealership handled that one himself." He turns toward Kate. "So how about you? Enjoying your drive?"
"I don't know," Kate says. "The car seemed more romantic or something, in the book. Babe, could I get an Aston Martin like James Bond drives?"
"Whatever makes you happy, Sweetcheeks," Castle responds.
"It shouldn't be hard to find out who the owner of the dealership is," Kate says, as she and Castle hurry off the lot. "It would be a matter of public record. His transactions with Vulcan Simmons should be a matter of public record too."
"And if they're not?" Castle asks.
"Then we'll know he has something to hide."
A/N I updated my profile with a link to a new more Castle-like book.
