Confessions Chapter 58

"It's only one o'clock," Castle notes as Kate starts the car. "We could stop for lunch and still be back in the city in time for the results on Dancing with the Stars."

"Dancing with the Stars? Castle, are you serious?"

"Are you serious, Beckett? Jennifer Grey is on and I want to make sure no one puts Baby in the corner."

"Let me guess. You know her."

"Only slightly. We hung out backstage a little when Mother and Jen's father were in the same play. But during that brief acquaintance, I got the impression that she inherited at least some of her progenitor's terpsichorean skills. I just want to make sure she gets her due."

"She's dancing with Derek, Castle. If anyone can make sure she comes out a winner, he can."

Castle smacks his palm against the dash. "Aha! So you do watch!"

Kate clears her throat. "I catch it occasionally."

Castle's eyebrow arches. "Have you ever voted?"

"Maybe once or twice."

"Right! Then we will surely have to make it back in time to watch together. And as I recall, we passed a restaurant on our way to this end of the lake that can deliver satisfying but prompt dining."

"Let me guess. You looked up the reviews."

"Actually, I texted the food critic at the Ledger. He spent a summer up here."

"And you know him because…?"

"He dated Mother for a while. I got some excellent dining recommendations out of it. Still do."

"I knew there was a reason why you know almost every restaurant in the city."

"Actually, I embarked on that exploration long before Mother stepped out with the gentleman in question. After my starvation period before I sold 'In a Hail of Bullets,' I was anxious to taste of the finer things in life. But it would have been foolish to ignore expert input. That little bit of family history aside, the restaurant is called Fast Feast. It shouldn't take us more than 20 minutes to get there – if you want to go."

"Sounds perfect. I want to be back in time to get the results too," Kate confesses.

Castle grins his triumph. "OK, then."

"And first thing tomorrow we need to talk to Lyle and Melody again."

"Of course."

At 8:00 a.m., Kate and Castle are sitting in her unit in front of Greenway Collision Repair when Lyle unlocks a metal door next to a bay entrance and goes inside. Kate quickly follows as Castle trots to catch up. "Mr. Snodgrass, I need to talk to you again."

Lyle jams his keys back in his pocket. "I don't know what else I can tell you, Detective – uh, Beckett, right? I haven't heard from my father-in-law."

"Actually, we talked to him," Castle says. "Turns out he's been at Skaneateles Lake for close to a week now. Lovely, up there, by the way. The food is excellent."

"The point is, Mr. Snodgrass," Kate interjects, "that he wouldn't have had access to a vehicle in connection with the murder I'm investigating – a van registered to this business. You would have. Where is the van, Mr. Snodgrass?"

"The van?" Lyle repeats. "I haven't used it since – wait! Melody took it a few days ago. She said Big Box was having a sale on paper products like toilet paper and towels. That stuff's gotten so expensive it sounded worth it to stock up."

"And where's the van now?" Kate asks.

"Parked on the street somewhere around our apartment, I guess. It's almost impossible to get a parking place close in. It might even be on the next block or something. You'd have to ask Melody. Or maybe someone stole it! Unless we needed it, we wouldn't know."

"Does it have any security tracking?" Kate asks.

"It did when Dirk bought it. But that service was one of the expenses we had to give up. If it isn't where Melody left it, I don't have any idea where you could find it. Sorry."

"There's a good chance the van is wherever your wife parked it," Kate says. "Would I find her at the boutique this time of the morning?"

"Oh, yeah. It opens early to catch the customers who line up for the first batch of bagels at Zabars."

Castle nods enthusiastically. "Makes sense."

When Kate and Castle arrive at Benwick Boutique, Melody Snodgrass is dealing with a customer requesting a refund on a dress. "It didn't fit," the sleekly dressed purchaser complains. "Look, I have the receipt and everything."

Melody examines the garment. "This has been worn, and longer than it would take to test the fit." She points to stains under the arms. "It's sweat-damaged. I can't take it back."

"I couldn't have worn it for more than a few minutes," the customer protests.

"It doesn't matter how long you wore it," Melody insists. "If I take back damaged merchandise, it will come out of my paycheck, and I can't afford it."

The customer looks down at the slinky sheath. "I can't really afford it either."

Melody sticks the dress into a bag. "You could try offering it to Heckles Consignments, five blocks down. They might be able to get you something for it."

The customer sighs. "I'll try that, thanks." As the door dings her exit, Kate and Castle move in.

"Ms. Snodgrass, I have a few more questions for you."

"Yes. Lyle called and said you would be coming, Detective Beckett. You want to know about the van?"

"That's right," Kate confirms.

"I had to double park to unload it," Melody confides. "The closest legal parking spot I could find was two blocks from our apartment. It should be on the north side of 78th Street between Columbus and Amsterdam."

"Not a bad neighborhood," Castle comments. "Walking distance from the Museum of Natural History – from here, too."

"If you're wondering how Lyle and I could afford it, Mr. Castle, it was originally rented by a great aunt of mine and was rent-controlled. My mother moved in during my aunt's waning years to take care of her. So she qualified to keep the rent-controlled status. She took ill some years after that and I lived in to take care of her. So when she passed, I qualified as well. When Lyle and I married, he moved in with me. But after what happened to my dad's business, even a rent-controlled apartment isn't going to get us over the hump."

"He got a raw deal," Castle agrees. "All of Springsplits' clients did."

"We'll check on the van," Kate says. "You're obviously busy, Ms. Snodgrass. Thank you for the information."

Castle finishes traversing the block of 78th Street from Amsterdam to Columbus, a couple of steps ahead of Kate. "The van's not here, Beckett. Maybe Melody misremembered her parking spot."

Kate shakes her head. "Castle, since when do New Yorkers misremember a parking spot?"

"Remembering where you parked is a vital skill of city living," Castle allows. "So either Melody lied to us or someone took it without her knowledge."

"I'll put a BOLO out on it. And if it does have a built-in tracking device, the company that controls it may be able to give us access to the signal. Either way," Kate declares, "we'll find it."

"And some vital clue to the killer with it," Castle offers hopefully.

Kate pulls her cell phone from her jacket pocket. "We'll see."