Shared Obsession Chapter 30

Kate's cell buzzes as Castle brings another box out of his locker into the brighter light of the building's basement. "Yes, Ryan. Yeah, thanks. I appreciate it. And tell Mulgrew I appreciate it too. Buy him a round on me. I'll pay you back in the morning."

"What did Ryan say?" Castle asks.

"That a Detective Mulgrew who was working Washington Heights around the time my mother was running her anti-drug campaign said the big dealer up there was a Vulcan Simmons. Mulgrew and some of the other cops tried hard to nail him and his organization. But the DA back then, a Bill Bracken, always found an excuse to turn them loose. After a while the cops just busted junkies. They couldn't make anything stick on the guys who sold the drugs."

"Corruption in New York is nothing new," Castle notes. "The library's full of books about it. You think Simmons was bribing Bracken to let his people walk? You said your mother was writing letters to public officials. Maybe she got under Bracken's skin."

"How about Celia?" Kate wonders. "Would she have written to him?"

Castle lays down his box on the floor, next to two already there under the glow of a fluorescent ceiling fixture. Crouching, he slits the sealing tape with his Swiss Army knife. Let's have a look." He carefully lifts out a few painstakingly wrapped pieces of Fiesta Glass that top a pile of folders. After handing a file to Kate to examine, he opens another one himself. "This is full of copies of letters to everyone and his brother, including companies making legal drugs, complaining that kids were getting their hands on them." Castle grabs two more files. "Here! Beckett! These are letters she wrote to Bracken, the mayor, and the governor, all complaining that dangerous drug dealers were being put back on the streets. Oh, wow! In this one to Bracken, she claims she can prove it. There's a negative sleeve here, with a few negatives."

"Can you tell what's on them?"

"No, but," Castle pulls out his phone, "my magnifying app might help. Damn! I still can't tell. They're too dark. But Alexis has an app on her laptop she uses to manipulate images for school projects. She might be able to help us out – if I can get her off the phone with Owen. We can borrow a cart from Eduardo, the doorman, to get all this stuff upstairs."

Alexis points at her computer screen. "That's the best I can do, Dad. It just looks like two guys shaking hands."

"Beckett, do you recognize either one of those men?" Casrle asks.

Kate leans in. "I don't recognize the men, but I recognize the place. They're in the Mulberry Street Parking Garage, about four blocks from the courthouse. The guy in the conservative suit could be a lawyer, but the guy with the earring and the weave looks more like he'd be a defendant – or bailing out a defendant."

"Pumpkin, can you send that and the other pictures to my printer?" Castle asks.

"Sure, Dad. But who do you think those guys are?"

The muscles of Castle's jaw pop. "I don't know, Sweetie. And it's probably better that you don't either. I think the people who did, ended up dead."

Googling Bill Bracken on the computer in his office, Castle holds up one of the pictures he printed out next to the screen. He looks back at Kate. "What do you see?"

"The guy in the picture is Bracken, much younger, but Bracken."

"And what do you want to bet that if you pull up Vulcan Simmons' file, his photo will be a match to the other guy?"

"That file would be restricted to NYPD personnel, so I can't access it from here," Kate figures. "Your computer wouldn't be on the IP address white list. I'll need to use the one on my desk in the bullpen."

"Can we go now?" Castle asks.

"I don't want to have to explain to the night shift what we're doing there," Kate decides. "Sometimes reporters hang around late to pick up anything interesting that drops. And I'd rather not have we're doing get out before we have a solid case against someone. But we can check it first thing in the morning. And then we can also check my mother's things for anything on Bracken or Simmons, or anything tied to her anti-drug group."

"And in between, are you going to be able to get some sleep?" Castle wonders.

"Probably not," Kate admits. "You?"

"I have enough adrenalin coursing through my veins to keep a narcoleptic awake. But I'll tell you what. When I'm hyped up like this, I have an easier time dozing off in front of the TV than staring at the ceiling in bed. If you're the same way, I can make us some cocoa instead of coffee, and we can find the most boring movie available on demand. Then if that doesn't work, watch late-night infomercials. Maybe after a while, we can nod off."

"Castle, just what are you proposing here?"

"No hanky-panky, Beckett. For God's sake, my daughter's in the house. I'm just trying to figure out how to get through the night. You can join me if you want – or I can take you home. If you stay, you can put pillows between us on the couch if you want to. Or I can confine myself to my chair. So, should I heat up some milk or get my car keys?"

Kate can already picture the track she'd wear in the floor of her apartment, visions of her mother being murdered by a drug dealer's assassin whirling through her brain. "Heat up the milk."

Jolted awake by the blare of an early-morning newsbreak, Kate realizes that she did manage to fall asleep – with her head on Castle's shoulder. He stirs as she sits up. "Good morning."

"Good morning. " She points at the TV screen. "No one should be that cheerful at six am."

"The smile comes with the camera. I've seen mother flash one like it hundreds of times when seconds before she was trying to figure out how to pay the rent or was cursing out her second husband. The lady's just doing her job. And your shift for your job doesn't start for a while yet. How would you feel about pancakes?"

"I really need to go home and shower and change."

"I'm pretty quick with a griddle, and I'll be making breakfast for myself and Alexis anyway – and Mother if she wanders in. You'll have time."

"I should go. I don't want your mother to see me here. And I don't want Alexis coming down to find me here either."

"I can grab my keys. It will only take a few minutes to get to your place."

"I have some things I need to get straight in my head. I think I'll walk for a while then grab a cab. But do you want to meet me at the precinct when my shift starts?"

"Try and stop me."

"I'll see you later, then."

"Count on it."

The traffic moving along three feet away barely penetrates Kate's consciousness as she walks down the sidewalk. What the hell just happened? If she looked at it the way most people would, the answer would be nothing. She and a friend were watching TV, and they fell asleep. End of story. But it wasn't nothing. Castle's couch is huge. She could have stretched out on it barely touching him. Or she could have accepted his offer to stay in his chair. But she didn't. She wanted the closeness. And waking up with him the way she did felt warm and safe. She's dated a string of men since her mother was killed. She's even slept with some of them, most notably an FBI agent. But she's never felt the connection she did with Castle. Is it their shared tragedy? She doesn't know. She's built a wall to keep out anyone who could cause the kind of pain and loss she felt when her mother died. Castle's a threat to that protection. She should back away. But right now, that's the last thing she wants to do.