Shared Obsession Chapter 127

Montgomery motions Beckett and Castle into his office. "How are we doing on the Cuba angle?"

"Nothing yet. Why?" Kate asks.

"I just got a call from the lieu over in Union City, New Jersey. Vega was involved in a shouting match in a restaurant in Little Havana with one of their regulars. Apparently, the cops were called to break it up."

"Why wasn't there an incident report?" Kate queries.

"Cops kept it quiet at the time at the request of the Cuban Consulate," the captain explains.

"Because of Vega?" Castle questions.

Montgomery shakes his head. "Because of whom Vega was fighting with, Mario Sanchez."

"He was one of the diplomats that took Vega to Cuba," Kate recalls.

Castle's eyebrows rise. "What were they fighting about?"

Montgomery shrugs. "I don't know. But seeing that they were in Cuba together, I suggest you find out."


Castle gazes around Sanchez's office at the Cuban Consulate. It has very few frills, but Sanchez's chair looks comfortable and his desk is solid. The guest chairs where he and Kate sit, are functional, but nothing more.

Sanchez rolls a pen between his fingers. "On the night of the 17th, I was here in the consulate. You don't really think I killed Cano Vega, do you?"

"Given his change of heart in Cuba, I can't imagine that the two of you were the best of friends," Kate replies.

The pen drops from Sanchez's hand, clicking against the desk. "You could say the same thing about most of the Cuban community here."

"Yes, but how many of them ended up fighting with you at the restaurant?" Castle returns.

"I was minding my own business," Sanchez claims. "Vega was the one who decided to pick a fight with me."

"Why?" Kate asks.

"I was in charge of his schedule in Cuba. I guess he didn't like being told where to go or what to do."

"Sounds like you kept him on a pretty tight leash. Isn't that kind of thing why he defected in the first place?" Castle ripostes.

"We did a counterrevolutionary the courtesy of allowing him back on our soil," Sanchez declares. "We weren't about to just let him wander around."

"So you would know better than anyone what he did on his trip," Kate assumes.

"That's my job," Sanchez confirms.

"Everyone we spoke to said Vega came back from Cuba a different man. What happened to him down there?" Castle wonders.

"He was very emotional the whole time we were there, talking to locals, feeling sorry for them because they were poor and he was rich. Truth is, he felt guilty," Sanchez asserts.

"When Vega returned, he borrowed $200,000 in cash. Is it possible that he was trying to funnel money to the island, help out some of the locals perhaps?" Kate offers.

Sanchez's dark eyes shoot arrows. "Not on my watch."

"Yeah, you can't have that. Rich people sharing their wealth? That's like socialism," Castle jabs.

Sanchez thrusts his palms in front of his face. "Please. The truth is that Cano Vega, like most Americans, was spoiled. When poverty was before his eyes, it was an unspeakable tragedy. Then out of sight, out of mind. He didn't know that I was aware, but you know the thing that interested Cano Vega most about Cuba? A girl."

Kate leans forward in her seat. "What girl?"

"He met a lot of locals, kissed a lot of babies. I can only assume that it was a pretty young thing that he met while touring the island."

"Do you know her name?" Kate presses.

"Lara, her name was Lara."


At the murderboard, Kate points to the picture of the girl. "So who did Vega fall in love with in Cuba?"

"If you take Sanchez's word," Castle cautions. "He's a diplomat from a dictatorship. Lying would be like breathing – or to keep breathing."

"Well, he couldn't have just pulled the name Lara out of the air," Kate says.

"According to the note that Vega's wife found, Vega and Lara were supposed to meet the night before Vega was murdered. Now how were they supposed to do that if she was stuck in Cuba?" Castle wonders. "There must be something to make this all make sense."

"There's one thing," Esposito says. "The girl at the club wasn't Lara. A resident near the ballpark where Vega was killed ID'd her. "Her name is Ana, Ana Rivera. She's a waitress in the neighborhood. Uniforms are bringing her in now."

"What's her connection to Vega?" Beckett asks.

"Cuba. She escaped six months ago."


"We met at the restaurant where I work, near his field," Ana explains. "He'd heard I'd just come over from Cuba and he invited me to his club."

"Did you know he was married?" Kate asks.

"It wasn't like that," Ana insists. "He just wanted to talk… about home. He missed it. I think that's why he wanted to go."

"You were photographed with him after the trip. Did he still want to – talk?" Castle asks.

"Yes. He wanted to talk about my trip here from Cuba. It's like he was obsessed. He wanted to know how I got out."

"And what did you tell him, Ana? What did you tell Mr. Vega?" Kate queries.

"I said my family knew a man. If you pay him lots of money, Mi Cariño takes you to America."

"Mi Cariño?" Beckett repeats.

"His boat. It takes you to Jamaica, then you fly to America. It's important that you fly because if you came by boat they can send you back."

Kate turns to Castle. "That's the 'wet foot, dry foot' policy."

"Vega was looking for a way to get his new girlfriend out of Cuba," Castle assumes.

"Mi Cariño, 2/16, 8:30 pm. Looks like he succeeded," Kate says.

"Getting her to Jamaica on 2/16, which means she arrived on 2/17," Castle figures. "That means she arrived the same day Vega died. That can't be a coincidence."

"Ana," Kate says, "you told Mr. Vega how to get in touch with the man who got you out of Cuba."

"Yes. He runs a newspaper, Una Nueva Esperanza on East 98th Street."

"Alfred Quintana, the Editor?" Kate questions.

"Yes," Ana responds.

Kate locks gazes with Castle. "He lied to us."


Quintana pounds his fist on the table in the box. "First you accuse me of killing Vega. Now you say I helped him. Maybe you guys should make up your mind."

"Well," Castle says, "we made up our minds, once we saw the $200,000 in your bank account."

"That's the exact amount Vega borrowed from a loan shark," Kate adds.

"Since what you were doing was illegal, he didn't want any record of it," Castle asserts.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Quintana claims.

Castle turns to Kate. "Maybe we should give him a little time to think about it. Are you in the mood for a latte?"

"Sounds good." Kate heads for the door with Castle following.

"You can't just leave me sitting here," Quintana protests.

"There's a cop at the door. It's probably one of the safest places in the world," Castle assures him. "And the quietest. You can always think through your next article: 'Oops, I goofed. How Cano Vega was actually trying to help someone escape from Castro.' Should make interesting reading."

"What's up, Babe?" Kate asks as Castle starts making coffee. "You don't usually want to break up an interrogation that way."

"I was hoping you could check with Gainer. Things have been too quiet with the Special Prosecutor. I've got a bad feeling."

"More Spidey sense?"

"Or the family gift. Anyway, if we're going to get called in to testify sometime soon, I'd like some idea of what they'll be asking."

"Gainer's pretty tight-lipped about the investigation, Castle. But I suppose it won't hurt to ask." Kate pulls out her cell phone. "Oh, there's an automated message that she can't come to the phone. I haven't gotten one of those before."

"No offer of voicemail?"

"No. Maybe it's full."

"Full voicemail. Your tax dollars at work. Maybe you can try later."

"Yeah," Kate agrees.


The white-haired man regards the image his hidden camera captures of his guest. She looks nervous. She should. She got a call from the wrong guy. Now she's going to have to explain why.