Confession Chapter 12
Judy waves Kate and Castle to seats at her kitchen table and paces the vinyl floor. "I sent that letter years ago when I was just a teenager. I couldn't stand the way my brother died and all the others the drug dealers were killing."
"Unfortunately, not much has changed about that," Kate says. "If anything, the drugs are stronger and more addictive."
"God knows how many deaths Bracken was responsible for just by letting dealers walk," Castle adds. "Those losses are beyond tragic. But we think Bracken may have killed and still be killing people more directly. We believe he was behind Johanna Beckett's murder and Detective Beckett's near-murder."
"And right now, we're trying to gather every piece of information we can about Bracken," Kate continues. "So anything you can tell us beyond what was in your letter could help us get that monster thrown in the deep hole where he belongs."
"The deep hole he belongs in is hell," Judy responds. "But I can't let my name be used in this. I have a life, kids. They don't know anything about my brother except that he died young. And I don't want my neighbors gossiping about me getting a visit from cops."
"I understand," Kate assures her. "The statute of limitations has long expired on anything you could testify to in court. And since you only saw an envelope, not money, a defense attorney could claim there was no crime. For all you know that dealer could have been giving Bracken a birthday card. So, we'll leave you out of it. But there is no statute of limitations on murder. And to nail Bracken for that, what I need is anything, no matter how small, you can remember about the dealer. And I also want to hear anything you might have heard about where your brother or anyone else got his drugs."
"I'm trying to picture that dealer in my mind, but it was a long time ago. I put that he was black and the earring into my letter," Judy recalls.
"About the earring, was it gold, silver, a distinctive shape?" Kate queries.
"Gold, I think, but when the sun hit it, I saw little flashes of green, like when my mother wore her emerald necklace."
"A dealer with a taste for emeralds, that could be useful," Kate muses. "Hair? Full head or balding?"
"Full head. But what really struck me was his voice," Judy interjects. "It was deep, booming."
"Like Darth Vader?" Castle asks.
"Not like that. I mean it was deep, but more like the guy who played that asshole Dr. Goodman on 'Bones.'"
"Yeah, I remember him. That character was a jerk," Castle offers. "I was glad when they got rid of him."
Kate flashes Castle a look. "So, he was black with an earring, possibly gold and emerald, and a deep voice. Anything else?"
"Not that I remember. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," Kate responds. "You gave us more than we get from a lot of witnesses. You've really helped."
"So," Castle says, as he steers his car back onto the highway, "all we have to do is match Judy's description with a drug dealer from the time Bracken was D.A. That shouldn't be too hard. A gold and emerald earring and a booming voice. Wouldn't any old narcotics cop, and a lot of the street cops remember that one?"
"Yeah, but we don't know which of them Bracken might have gotten to," Kate points out. "If we ask the wrong one, we could be tipping him to what we know. And Castle, was it really necessary to have one of Kap's operatives tailing us?"
"You noticed that?"
"Not the tail. He's very good. But when we stopped at the rest area, so did he. And I recognized him as one of the guys who took a shift outside my door."
"Score one for Detective Beckett. But look, it's part of my contract with Kap. He's watching out for both of us, wherever we go. Frankly, I find it comforting."
"Well, if it makes you feel better…."
"It does," Castle insists.
"Then I guess I'm all right with it, as long as Kap's people don't get in the way of our investigation."
"They won't, Kate. Their job is just to keep us alive and in one piece so we can finish it. And speaking of staying alive, what do you feel like for lunch?"
"I'm guessing that you familiarized yourself with every place to eat along the route."
"Just part of our cheerful service. So, what would speed healing energy to the detective's heart?"
Kate closes her eyes for a moment, her tongue rounding her lips. "How about barbecue, the messier the better?"
Castle's eyes brighten under rippling brows. "I know just the place."
As Castle pulls onto an exit ramp, Kate regards a flashing neon sign. "A Thousand Napkins?"
"You said the messier the better. I brought Alexis along when I drove up this way to retrieve Meredith from a summer stock production, not long before we were divorced. We stopped here on the way back. And I thought a place that happily provided unlimited napkins would be perfect for a four-year-old. Alexis was somewhat less fastidious back then. But anyway, Meredith got sauce on a designer original she picked up on a jaunt to Paris. After she took it to the dry cleaners, you couldn't even see the stain. But she insisted it was still there. I was the one who paid for Paris – and the dress – but Meredith never forgave me anyway."
"Don't tell me that's why you got divorced."
"We got divorced because she had an affair and moved in with a Hollywood producer she thought could boost her career. Yeah, I know. With my playboyish image, almost everyone assumes I was the one who would have cheated. But the truth is that while Meredith and I were married, I was faithful to her. And while Gina and I were married, I was faithful to her too. I wanted the fairytale. It just didn't work out that way."
"Sorry, Castle."
"Well, maybe it was for the best. This place does have the finest barbecue sauce I've ever tasted. And it is messy as hell."
"Sounds wonderful."
"Dad, what are you doing and why do you have barbecue sauce in your hair?" Alexis asks as her father stares at his computer screen.
"I'm not sure how it got in my hair, but I took Beckett to the eatery your mother avoids at all costs. And I'm looking at true crime blogs."
"I thought you hated those – that they take no imagination."
"As an art form, that's true, except perhaps for the garish language on some of them. That can get creative. But I'm not reading them for the stories. I'm looking for a description that will fit a particular drug dealer who was tied up with the man behind Beckett's shooting."
"Any luck?"
"Not so far. And listen, there's chicken in the oven, but unless Mother makes it back for dinner, you'll be eating alone. I'm meeting Detective Esposito at the Old Haunt. I need to pick his military mind. And several beers and an unending supply of over-spicy appetizers may be involved."
"I'll leave the Pepto Bismol out for you."
"You are a sweet and wonderful daughter."
"You could raise my allowance."
"I wouldn't want to taint your sweetness with an overabundance of filthy lucre. But you'll get your usual adjustment for inflation."
"Great."