Confession Chapter 10

"I want to help!" Kate declares.

Castle returns a crooked smile. "I never would have doubted that for a second. And there are a lot of materials I haven't gone through yet. You can ask your father about those. But the bottom line is two sets of eyes are definitely better than one. I can bring a couple of boxes of files first thing in the morning."

"Why not now?" Kate demands.

"Beckett, that bullet grazed your heart, and the doctors said your full recovery would take months. Wouldn't it be better to start on a good night's sleep?"

"Castle, if I can't see any of those files until morning, I'm not going to sleep."

Point noted," Castle returns with a sigh. "All right. I'll go get them now. But try not to push too hard. The last thing either of us needs is for you to put yourself back in the hospital – or worse."

"Castle, I'm just going to sit and read. And a file is a lot lighter than a book."

"Not some of these files. To say the notations are thorough would be understating the case. Just promise me you'll take care, Kate. You know I…."

"Castle, I'm not ready to talk about that yet."

"OK. Fine. I get it. I'll go fetch the boxes."

"Don't let her hurt herself," Castle whispers to Graciela Martinez on his way out.

Graciela rolls her eyes. "I'll try my best, but you know Ms. Beckett."

"Yes, I do."

After driving to his small rented office, Castle picks the boxes with the lightest files for Kate to go through. Like the other boxes, he has no clue what information might be in them, but at least they'll put the least strain on her. Using a small luggage dolly he keeps in his trunk, he takes them down the elevator and loads them into his car."

The city in the early evening is buzzing as usual, with commuters who stayed late at the office heading back to more affordable places to live. There are lines outside theaters and even some popular eateries. Castle marvels at how normal it all looks with the citizenry going about its business oblivious to the evil lurking in the shadows. Ugh! He feels like he's writing a pulp novel. Not that, other than the rapid disintegration of the paper, there's anything wrong with pulp. Still, even if some reviewers his mother dug up think otherwise, he's always tried to aim higher.

But now is the moment for a journalist, not a novelist. It will soon be time to channel Rook. For the Bracken story to be taken seriously, it must hit with the terse style of Hemingway rather than the poetic embroidery of Poe. But he needs a cogent tale first, and right now he's only got pieces. As much as trepidation twists his gut, he needs Kate to help.

"Here you go!" Castle says as cheerily as possible, sliding the boxes off his cart, next to the couch where Kate impatiently waits. "Have fun. Don't stay up too late."

Kate throws him a dirty look. "I'm not six, Castle."

"I'm willing to bet that when you were six, you were already under the covers with a book and a flashlight when you were supposed to be asleep."

"Did my father tell you that?"

"He didn't have to. I did it – that is when there was anyone around who cared if I was awake or not. And Alexis did it too. I used to pretend not to notice for at least half an hour before shooing her off to dreamland. And I can't imagine a young Kate Beckett being any less enterprising."

"I started at five," Kate admits. "When I got my first flashlight."

Castle grins. "Ah, precocious."

"Dr. Seuss."

"Not that precocious. But Beckett, these are not Seuss stories. The Grinch isn't going to relent at the end and give the Whos all their Christmas stuff back. Bracken plays for keeps."

"No one realizes that more than I do, Castle. So the sooner we take him down, the better."

"Yeah," Castle agrees, grabbing his cart and heading for the door.

"What are you going to do?"

"Dig deeper into Jimmy Cormack. I want to find some clue to where he finds his henchmen like Killer Blue Eyes. Maybe that will tell us more about who we're looking for. And Beckett, Kap thinks his guys have already spotted Blue Eyes watching the building. So we may not have much time."

"Sounds like Kap's guys are on the ball. The windows have blinds and I'm not going anywhere."

"Yeah. Just take care."

After hours hunched over his computer, Castle tries in vain to stretch the kinks out of his back and neck. Jimmy Cormack seems very skilled at keeping himself out of the press. Most of the time, if he's mentioned at all, it's in captions of pictures where he's sticking close to his boss. He has no Twitter account, at least not a public one. He doesn't pop up on Facebook or Instagram either. Still, after fruitlessly pursuing those avenues, Castle tries another tack. Cormack is in security. Security has its own publications as well as blogs and forums.

Castle brings up a copy of Modern Security featuring an article on strategies for guarding public officials. His "Booyah!" echoes through the loft. There's an article outlining security considerations for a political campaign. Since Jimmy Cormack's name is not explicitly mentioned, the article never popped up on a search engine. But he is quoted as the chief security officer to a rising politician and also visible in a photo behind Bracken. He talks about building a cadre of people he can trust to react without hesitation in any situation and mentions that he likes to recruit former military if possible.

Could Blue Eyes have been military, or possibly a mercenary? Either way, he would be trained in military tactics. Castle knows just who to ask about those. And he won't have to worry about Montgomery getting in the way. Esposito's always down for beer and unlimited jalapeño poppers at the Old Haunt. Castle glances at his watch. It's after midnight, too late to call the heat-loving detective now. But he can reach him first thing in the morning to arrange a meeting.

Groaning, Castle pushes out of his chair. While he's been urging Kate to get enough rest, the wicks of his own candle are beginning to meet in the middle. It's a good thing the bedroom is only a few steps away. He might even have enough energy to shed his clothes. He's almost to his bed when his cell sounds with Kate's ringtone. Instantly alert, he snatches it out of his pocket. "Kate, why aren't you asleep? Are you all right!"

"I couldn't sleep, Castle and I'm more than all right. I found something I need to show you."

"I'll be right down."

"My mother was investigating how all the drug pushers run by a dealer named Vulcan Simmons in Washington Heights were cut loose with minor fines while their customers who just bought for personal use ended up in prison," Kate explains. "She found a witness who saw Bracken taking a payoff. Castle, we need to find that witness."

"Beckett," Castle offers gently, "the way Bracken operated, the witness may already be dead."

"I don't think so. Castle, the witness was Bracken's daughter's best friend. And she never told anyone, not even Bracken's daughter, what she saw. But then her brother died of an overdose, and she decided she needed to tell somebody."

"And she told your mother."

"She told my mother."

"But why wouldn't your mother record the interview in her secret shorthand?"

"Because there was no interview. The girl wrote her a letter. It was evidence Mom would never destroy."