Finding the Fit Chapter 21
Rick can't remember his fingers being this unsure as he types his message. Should he go into his history, the adopted family he only fleetingly remembers, and the children's home? Should he tell Martha Rodgers about his writing career, or should he just say, "I am your son?" He's tempted to go the easy route and just send her a copy of his official Black Pawn bio. But he can't bring himself to do something that impersonal. In the end, he sends two sentences. "I'm your biological son, Richard Castle. I'd like to meet you."
Martha struggles to think of a script she's read or a scene she's played that would fit the emotions coursing through her body. She can't remember anything even close. "Her son, Richard C. She knows who he is. Long ago, a crew member left a Storm novel backstage. Martha's only entrances had taken place in two different acts, so she picked it up to pass the time – and almost missed her cue. Her son is quite the writer. Aside from the one that popped up on Family Tree, the only pictures of him she's seen have been on dust jackets. She'd always thought he looked vaguely familiar, but she could never figure out why. Now she knows. In that one tempestuous fateful night with Jack, she spent a lot of time looking into his eyes. They were brown and Richard's are blue, but there's something similar about them. It's not physical, except maybe at the corners, but a depth of awareness. She has no idea where it would have come from in Jack. He told her nothing about his life. But it does make sense for a writer who takes in enough human behavior to put it convincingly on the page. As an actor, she must do the same to inform the characters she plays. Maybe that's what drew her to Jack. They had that in common. And now they have Richard in common. She wonders if Jack's aware that he has a son, but after all these years, she still knows no more about him than she did that night.
With a chime, Richard's message appears on Martha's screen. She slowly releases a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and types her query: "Sardi's for after-theater supper tomorrow?"
His reply comes rapidly. "I'll be there."
"Castle, we've got a meet with Jimmy Moran," Kate announces as he absently takes his seat next to her desk.
"Huh! Oh, OK. I guess Mr. FBI came through, right? When?"
"Four o'clock this afternoon in a parking structure on 45th. We'll have five minutes."
Relief washes over Rick as he realizes he'll still have plenty of time to make his late supper with his – his brain hesitates at the word – mother. "A parking structure? The feebies have been seeing too many movies. And I suppose they'll be bringing him in a black SUV."
"I don't know, Castle, but I wouldn't be surprised. From what I've seen, the bureau has a fleet of them. Hey! Where are you? I thought you'd be more excited about this. It could break our whole case wide open."
"Uh-hmm. Yeah. So Sorenson came through. That's great, Beckett. Who else knows about the meet?"
"I'm the only one he told, and now you. He warned me not to inform anyone in the NYPD in case the Spolanos have a mole."
"But I'm not in the NYPD," Rick realizes.
"No, you're not. And you'd be hard to recruit as a mole. You don't exactly have to live on a cop's salary."
Rick half-chuckles. "My business manager wishes that I would act as if I did. So OK. We just take off for uptown without saying why."
"We'll be checking out a lead."
"And how did you use your feminine wiles to bamboozle Sorenson into letting me come along?"
"I didn't. That was Moran's idea. He's a fan and knows you've been hanging around with cops. He figured that while he has the chance, he'll play whatever cards he can. Sorenson didn't like it. Neither did Moran's agent in charge. But they had to go with it."
"I'm not sure if I should be flattered or horrified that Moran's a member of my fandom."
"I'd go with horrified," Kate says. "But what have you been up to that has you so distracted?"
"After all this time, I finally made contact with my birth mother. It came out of the blue from the DNA thing I did a long time ago."
"And…?" Kate prompts.
"I'm supposed to meet her tonight for a late supper. You know, Beckett, for the first time in a long time, I have no idea what I'm going to say."
Kate reaches out to touch his hand. "You'll find the words, Castle. You always do."
Minus a cinematic squeal of brakes echoing off the concrete walls, A black Suburban SUV pulls into the designated meeting place. Sorenson, an unidentified but obvious FBI agent, and Candace Robinson get out to meet Kate and Castle. With eyes as hard as her nickname, the AUSA informs them they've got five minutes.
They climb into the front of the SUV to talk with a bandaged Moran, who remains in the back. "So you really did bring Rick Castle," he says. "But I don't know what I can tell you that I haven't already told the feds."
"You can start with this," Kate replies. "The killer who went after Dr. Leeds used an MO the NYPD has no record of. I need you to tell me who would use it."
"Shame about Leeds," Moran says. "He was a good doc. Told me exactly what he was going to do and how I'd feel after. Made sure I got the stuff I needed, too. The family had no cause to kill him. What MO?"
"Plastic bag over his head secured with duct tape," Kate offers.
Moran recoils and starts banging on the window. "Get me out of here! Now!"
"Why? What happened? Whose MO is that?" Kate questions.
Moran bangs harder on the window. "It's mine!" he grits out. "The Spolanos are sending me a message that I'm next."
Robinson pulls open the car door. "That's it. The interview is over. Out now!"
Kate and Castle reluctantly return to her unit. Knuckles white on the wheel, she drives the few miles to the 12th Precinct.
"Beckett," Montgomery yells as she and Castle get off the elevator.
"Sorry, Sir. I know I didn't inform you about our meeting, but…."
"It's not that, Kate," Montgomery interrupts. "I just got a call from the SDNY. The car carrying Moran was ambushed on the way back to the safe house. Moran and your friend Sorenson were both shot."
"Are they alive? Are they going to make it?" Kate demands.
"Alive so far, but no one knows anything else yet. They're both on their way to Mercy General."
"That's the hospital Leeds thought was the best," Rick recalls. "They'll be in good hands, Beckett."
"Damn! This is my fault!" Kate exclaims. "We must have been followed. How else would the Spolanos have known about the meeting?"
"Beckett, the FBI knew. So did the SDNY," Rick points out. "The Spolanos could have a mole either place or both. And that Suburban wasn't subtle transportation. Your unit, on the other hand, blends in perfectly with the city's multitudinous streams of traffic. It wasn't your fault."
Kate shakes her head. "I need to get to Mercy General."
"Go ahead," Montgomery urges. "But take a cab. If the Spolanos do know your unit, you don't want them to see it."
Nodding, Kate rushes back into the elevator.