Shared Obsession Chapter 71

As Beckett huddles in front of phone monitoring equipment with Sorenson and the Candelas, Castle surveys the interactions. The few inches between the Candelas might as well be the Grand Canyon. But Sorenson seems to be trying to edge closer to Kate. She's apparently attempting to avoid it, by keeping her attention focused on a recording of the ransom call. Theresa's shaky pickup comes first. "Hello?"

An electronically disguised voice announces, "We have your daughter."

"Please," Theresa pleads, "she's just a child. Please don't hurt her."

The reply comes quickly. "Whether we hurt her is up to you. Whether she lives is up to you. You want your daughter. We want $750,000. You have 24 hours."

"I want to speak to her," Theresa demands. "I want to know she's safe."

The call terminates.

"They used an internet voice over IP service," Sorenson notes.

"Which makes it untraceable," Beckett adds.

"What about the voice?" Castle asks. "That kind of scrambling is done with an algorithm. Sometimes if an audio analyst determines which one, it can be unscrambled."

"You've been reading too many of your own spy novels, Castle," Sorenson reports. "And even if that were possible, we don't have the time or a sample for comparison."

"If someone recognized it, you wouldn't need a sample," Castle pushes.

"Still no time," Sorenson insists. "If the ransom is paid, there's a chance Angela will be returned unharmed, and we can nail the kidnappers." He turns to the Candelas. "Can you raise that kind of money?"

"It's everything we have," Teresa replies.

"If it means getting Angela back we'll pay," Alfred declares.

"Then you should start getting your financial records together," Sorenson advises.

"Ms. Candela, is there someone who can help you, an accountant or someone at your firm?" Kate asks.

"Nina could help," Alfred suggests.

"Nina?" Kate questions.

"My sister," Theresa replies, "she's a CPA."

"But even if we give them money, how can we be sure we'll get her back?" Alfred questions.

"You have to hope," Sorenson replies. "You have to imagine your little girl walking through that front door safe and sound. Your daughter needs you right now. She needs you to have faith, to be strong."

Checking the kitchen of the Candelas' apartment for fresh coffee for Kate, Castle finds Sorenson studying a transcript of the ransom call. "Do you do this a lot?" Rick asks. "Kidnappings I mean. You seem to have what to say down pat."

"It's not about what I say. It's about controlling the situation, controlling the emotions," Sorenson returns.

"You requested your ex-girlfriend for the task force," Castle points out. "That doesn't indicate to me a control over your emotions."

"I requested Beckett because she's the best in the city."

"She's the best homicide cop in the city. The last thing you should want is for this to turn into a homicide. Not that you seem to be doing your best to prevent it. No fingerprints. No DNA. No attempt at voice analysis."

"You're not a cop, Castle. You don't know how these things work. I do what has worked best for the bureau. And I give these people hope."

"What's worked for the bureau has led to a lot of dead victims. And I'm a big fan of hope and faith, but it can be misguided. Do you know the story of the two helicopters, Sorenson?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Castle."

"There was a guy whose town was hit by a hurricane, the kind with a huge storm surge. The streets were flooded, and the water was rising. Eventually, the only place he could go was his roof. So he went and waited for God to save him. A rescue helicopter flew in and lowered a rope, but he waved it off, saying his God would save him. As the water rose higher, another helicopter flew in and lowered a basket. He waved that off too, saying his God would save him. The waters continued to rise until the man drowned. And when he arrived in Heaven, he asked God, 'Lord, why didn't you save me?' The Lord just shook his head. 'I sent two helicopters.'"

"Nice story, Castle, but what's your point?" Sorenson demands.

"That faith is great, but we're expected to use all the tools we're given. Maybe you're too stuck in Feeb protocols to see that. Or maybe you're so distracted with trying to get Kate back you don't have your head on straight. But remember this, Sorenson. Kate respects people who do their jobs and do them well. And right now you don't qualify."

"And if I'm reading you right, Castle, I have competition."

"Damn straight you do. But right now it shouldn't be about Kate, it should be about getting Angela back, alive and well. And I happen to know that if the FBI doesn't have the tools to attack the voice on that recording, the audio-engineering lab at Hudson University does. And you shouldn't give a sh*t about FBI protocols if that lab might be able to help. So why don't you pull the stick out of your ass and try? Kate might even like you better for it."

"And how would you feel about that, Castle?"

"I'll worry about it after Angela comes home."

"Castle, I could hear voices from here. What were you and Sorenson talking about?" Kate asks when Rick returns to the living room with her coffee.

"I told him a story. But I also gave him a resource for getting the voice of the ransomer analyzed."

"How did you know about that stuff?" Rick just quirks an eyebrow. "Your time working with the Company?"

Rick nods. "The voice thing wasn't even classified. No reason Sorenson shouldn't know. It might not help, but right now, I don't see how we can ignore anything that could."

"Neither do I," Kate agrees. "The Candelas have pulled their financials. The sister's on her way. Listen, I'm going to stay around in case anything new develops before the deadline."

Rick winces. "Bad choice of words."

"I'll probably be here overnight. But there's no reason you should have to. Go home to your own daughter. I'll call you if anything comes up."

"All right," Castle agrees. "Right now I could really use an Alexis hug – if she'll give me one."

"Under the circumstances, I don't see how she could refuse."

As Castle comes through the door of the loft, Alexis scowls at him from the kitchen. "Are you and Beckett working on another murder?"

He drops his jacket on a chair. "I hope not. Someone kidnapped a two-year-old little girl. We're trying to get her back alive."

"Do you think you can do that?'

Rick swallows against the tightness in his throat. "The odds are against it. God, Alexis, I can't imagine what I'd do if it was you."

Tears glisten in the redhead's pale blue eyes. "Which is how I feel about the chance of losing you."

Rick opens his arms. "I'm trying my best not to let that happen."

Alexis runs into her father's embrace. "I know." He holds her close, feeling her slowly relax in his arms. She looks up, still holding fast. "Are you going to be able to save that little girl?"

"Honestly, I don't know. And the FBI agent in charge is kind of an, um, synonym for a piece of uniquely male anatomy. But there's something at the back of my mind trying to poke its way out. I'm hoping it will hurry up."

"Maybe a triple chocolate brownie will help."

"There was only one left in the pan. I thought you'd want it."

"We can split it."

"You're on."