Kate Beckett, Investigator Chapter 8
A/N The National Baseball Hall Of Fame and Museum is in Cooperstown, New York.
"I was in a meeting. What the hell do you want, Wigdor?" Jacques Nellis demands.
"Velma Dinkley has disappeared, Sir. She didn't report for work. We can't reach her by phone or text and our emails to her are returned as undeliverable."
"Who the f*** is Velma Dinkley?" Nellis hisses.
"She was in charge of sampling incoming shipments and working with Marley. They gave her the lab reports."
"All of the lab reports?"
"Only the ones showing our materials were within allowable limits. She never saw anything that could prove we went over the line. Still, she spent time at Marley and before she disappeared, she asked me about the lab report on the carpet. At the time I thought she was being conscientious about her job. But going missing like this? I don't like it."
"Did she actually see anything she could hang on us?" Nellis presses.
"Not to my knowledge, Sir."
"Then she's probably some engineering puke flake. They're always sticking their noses in everything and get bent out of shape when you tell them to stay in their lanes. The trouble with you, Wigdor, is you hire people who think too much. And you take your eye off the ball. Right now we have to get the 76th Street project open and make sure our other sites keep moving. You don't need a full-timer to do your sampling and Marley can keep sending the reports straight to you. Just hire some kid who wants to make a few extra bucks by going down to the docks. And no one too smart."
Wigdor's well-manicured fingernails dig into his palm. "What about Dinkley?"
"Forget about her. She's probably off somewhere staring at bugs or something. But I'll have my guys run a check. Now get the hell off my back. I have real business to take care of."
Castle wheels a suitcase to the assemblage of luggage at the door of the loft. He gazes at Kate, as she fills her water bottle. "I can't believe George and Margaret Linden decided to take Ashley to Cooperstown – and that your dad is riding with them. On the other hand, I won't have to worry about what Alexis and Ashley would have been up to in the back seat. And as it turns out, they will be in separate accommodations. The hotel where I made reservations for us and Alexis didn't have any more rooms available."
"Dad!" Alexis calls from the stairs. "The drive to Cooperstown is almost four hours. If we're going to meet the Lindens and Mr. Beckett for lunch, we need to get on the road."
"You're right, as usual," Castle acknowledges. "The car's gassed up and ready to go. Let's grab this stuff and get it down there."
"Who would have thought that a couple of economists would be so fascinated with baseball?" Castle wonders, on the elevator trip to the underground garage.
"It's the numbers, Dad," Alexis explains. "Ashley's parents use the statistics to put together fantasy leagues. From what Ashley's told me, they're pretty good at it. They both picked teams that were in the last three World Series. And one or the other of them picked the winners."
"How about Ashley?" Castle asks. "Does he compete with his parents? I mean, you've been my nemesis at laser tag for years."
"It's not the same thing, Dad. They're using complicated algorithms, not squeezing a trigger. But he watches what goes on in the minor leagues and predicts who's going to make it to the majors. He's pretty good too. He says it's kind of like predicting a winning stock."
Castle drops a suitcase. "He can predict winning stocks?"
"He's not that great at it yet. He was right about Google but missed the boat on Apple. But he says he's getting better."
"Uh-huh," Castle nods as he shoves bags into the back of the car. "Like the Nobel laureate economist who says he predicted six of the last four recessions. Sounds like we'd better leave your college fund where it is." He slams the hatch. "Everybody in!"
First to arrive at the agreed upon lunching destination, Castle surveys the checkered vinyl tablecloths and sturdy wooden furniture. He waves Kate to a seat at a long table that can also accommodate the expected arrivals. "Simple and solid. Your dad should like this place. But I don't know about the Lindens. I think the only algorithm they'll need is for calculating a tip. Actually, they won't even need that, since I'm picking up the check."
"It'll be fine," Alexis insists.
Just as the old-fashioned wall clock ticks to noon, the Linden family and Jim Beckett come through the door. The lawyer looks grim. "Dad?" Kate mouths as Castle gets everyone seated.
Jim shakes his head. "We'll talk about it later," he whispers.
"Jim and I have been having an interesting discussion about the Yankees," George Linden announces as Alexis and Ashley join hands under the table. "Despite winning more World Series than any other team, my numbers show their success falling off after 2011."
"Win or lose, they're still my team." Jim Beckett declares.
"I'm with you all the way on that, Dad," Kate agrees.
Castle clears his throat and signals to a waitress. "Perhaps we'd better order. Check-in at our hotel starts at 2 pm and it's usually best to be at the head of the line."
"You are correct about that, Rick," George agrees. "Hotels never seem to grasp the basics of queuing theory. Rarely enough personnel in the right place at the right time to move the lines along most efficiently."
"Apparently my bank has the same problem," Castle says. "And let's not even get into the DMV."
Margaret Linden smiles over the top of a laminated menu. "I'd rather get into lunch."
"Right," George Linden says. "According to the reviews, the Reuben sandwiches are excellent."
"Who are you calling?" Castle asks in the privacy of their hotel room as Kate pulls out her cell phone.
"My dad. I don't think he wanted to say anything in front of the Lindens, but he told me there was something we would talk about later. He's probably alone by now."
Jim Beckett picks up Kate's call immediately. "Katie, I'm glad you called. I got a text from Tom MacNee. He said someone from Nesgadol's been sniffing around labs asking for information about Velma Dinkley."
"Dad, unless you count the cartoon version, there is no Velma Dinkley. She's gone. We made her disappear. You've seen. My hair's even dark again. No one will make the connection."
"Just remember to watch your back, Katie," Jim Beckett warns. "We have no idea what Nesgadol will do if they realize who Velma actually was."
"No way they can do that, Dad. But when I start interviewing possible parties to your suit, they'll know I'm after them anyway."
"All the more reason to watch your back, Katie."
"I will, Dad. I promise."
"Problem?" Castle asks as Kate shoves her phone back into her pocket.
"I don't think so. Not yet, anyway. But when we get back to the city, I'll have to stay on my toes."
Castle strokes a fingertip down her face. "I've never known you to do otherwise. Assuming, of course, your toes are in proximity to the floor. But then, we'll have plenty of time tonight when they won't need to be."
Kate cups his cheek. "Yes, we will."