Confession Chapter 11

"Here," Beckett says, handing over a creased and aging sheet of stationery.

Castle's eyes quickly take in the handwritten letter. "Hmm. This is from a Judy Harshaw. It says she was taking a shortcut across the grounds of the Bracken home to meet her boyfriend and she saw Bracken meeting with a large black man wearing an earring. She hadn't seen anyone like that in the neighborhood before and she was afraid something might happen. Right. More than a little subtext there, Beckett. My guess is that cops would automatically stop and frisk any black in a neighborhood like that."

"Those were the times," Kate agrees, "under Hizzoner Rudy. And there were a lot of cops who actually approved. There still are some. But that's not what Judy was writing about."

"Right. The black man handed Bracken an envelope. Bracken looked inside and smiled. And then the black man said what Judy remembers as, 'So you'll give my guys selling on the street a pass.' Wow! Beckett! This is huge!"

"If Mom could have gotten Judy to testify, it might have been enough to bring Bracken down, or at least block his run for Congress. But she couldn't find Judy. After her brother died, the Harshaws disappeared. Mom was still trying to track them down when Dick Coonan killed her."

"But if we can find Judy now, it would go a long way to putting out a story the public can latch onto," Castle realizes.

"I tried a search on my phone before I called you," Kate admits. "I got about 600 hits, a lot of them obituaries. And it could be that none of them are this Judy Harshaw. The Harshaw family might have changed its name or Judy might have married and taken her husband's."

"I don't suppose the letter came in an envelope with a back address."

"If it did, my mom didn't keep it. Maybe she was afraid for Judy."

"But we still know the approximate neighborhood where she lived," Castle notes. "When you do one of those online background searches, they give you all the previous addresses for the names you're looking for. That would narrow things down a little."

"How about Kap? Doesn't he run background searches?" Kate asks.

"On everyone he'd let near some of his clients. But that starts with knowing where and who the person is now. We're trying to run it the other way. But if Judy Harshaw and Jessica Bracken were best friends, maybe they kept in touch. They probably went to the same school."

"There's an app you can use to find people you went to school with. I use it to touch base with some of the people I knew at Stanford and when I went to Stuyvesant," Kate confides.

"You were only at Stanford for a year, weren't you?"

"Uh-huh. But I was part of a club that was kind of fun, Nebu – never mind. My point is that alumni can communicate that way."

"Were you going to say Nebula Nine? Beckett, were you a Nebby?"

"Niner, Castle. Nebula Nine fans are called Niners. And I was one – for a short time. So what?"

Castle throws up his hands. "So, nothing. Just curious. As a Trekkie, Star Wars fan, and rabid comic collector, who am I to judge? It's just a side to you I never would have guessed. But back to our previously scheduled program. I can start tracking down Jessica Bracken's school pals." Castle yawns and rubs his neck. "Sorry. It's been a long day."

"Castle, you've been leaning on me to get some rest and you're the one who's exhausted. Go upstairs and get in bed."

"Under other circumstances that would sound downright sexy."

"Castle!"

"All right. I'm going. But I'll pick things up first thing in the morning."

Kate points toward the door. "Go! Sleep!"

Castle throws her a salute. "Aye, aye, Ma'am."

Esposito's cell phone rings just before he gets to the 12th Precinct. "Hey, Castle! How's Beckett?"

"Feisty and ready to chew through her virtual bars. The stuff you and Ryan got on Raglan and McCallister helped us get a picture of what's going on. But there's something else you can do without bumping up against Montgomery. Can you meet me at the Old Haunt after your shift? I can explain it then."

"You got it, Bro."

"Great, see you later."

Taking a gulp of the strongest brew his coffee maker can turn out, Castle settles into his desk chair. "Alumni Assembly," he mutters to himself, bringing up a website. "Searching for Jessica Bracken. And there she is. Well, what do you know? A graduate of Marlowe Prep. Small world. As a concerned parent and generous patron, there's no reason I shouldn't invest in a handy dandy alumni guide. So, Judy, Judy, Judy, where are you?"

"Judy Lipshultz, née Judy Harshaw, now resides in Connecticut with her husband Stuart Lipshultz and children Mira and Jerry Lipshultz," Castle announces proudly to Beckett. "I could make it up there before lunch."

"We could make it up there before lunch," Kate corrects him.

"Beckett, you're not supposed to go running around yet."

"Castle, I wouldn't be running around. I'd be sitting in the passenger seat of your Mercedes."

Castle looks helplessly at Graciela. "What do you think? Can Beckett handle a trip to Connecticut?"

"Graciela, tell him how much walking I can handle," Kate pleads.

"She's doing really good," Mr. Castle," the aide says. "But to travel, we should ask her doctor."

Kate rolls her eyes. "All right! Call the doctor!"

"Castle, what are you grinning about?" Kate asks as Castle drives northward.

"Other than tracking down an important part of our case against Bracken? Remember all those times you wouldn't let me drive?"

"Civilians aren't allowed to drive police vehicles, Castle."

"Yeah, I know. But your unit has a spring in the passenger seat that always hit me in – well, now we can finally go on a mission in something comfortable. And you know, your seat fully reclines if you want to lie down."

"No thanks, Castle. We both know the doctor said it's perfectly fine for me to sit in a car for a couple of hours as long as I can stretch if I need to. And I prefer to see where we're going."

"Of course you do. OK, so what's the plan?"

"The plan?"

"I mean how do we approach Judy Lipshultz? You're on leave, so you can't just flash your badge."

Kate pulls her badge out of her purse. "I'm not on administrative leave, fired, or reassigned, so actually there was no reason for Montgomery to ask for it. We'll be in Connecticut, which isn't in NYPD jurisdiction. But there's no reason I can't show it as ID."

"That's the Beckett I know and lo… appreciate."

"Appreciate stopping at the rest area up ahead."

"You want to stretch?"

"No, I want to pee."

"Yeah, actually so do I."

Judy Lipshultz waves away Beckett's badge and ID card. " I know who you are, Detective Beckett. It was all over the news when you were shot. I'm glad you're all right. But what do you want with me?"

"I want to talk to you about a letter you sent to my mother, Johanna Beckett."

"Oh, God!" Judy pales and looks around as if making sure no one is watching. "Pull your car around back, and then you'd better come in."