Papa Jack Chapter 57

When Richard returns to her hospital room, Kate's voice has more strength behind it. "Castle, you're looking better."

"And probably smelling better," he admits. "You're looking better too. Your eyes have more of the Beckett fire."

"The Beckett fire to know what's going on with tracking down Cedric. Did the boys get anything else?"

"Actually, they did." Richard produces a file from inside his coat. "This is an unofficial copy. The original is still at the precinct. But, as of when I left the bullpen, this was complete."

Kate holds out her hand. "Give it here, Castle."

Richard passes her the Manilla folder. "The guys had some luck besides the moleskin," he explains. "The lab found traces of turkey jerky in Cedric's nest. The only store in the area that sells it has security cameras. They picked up Cedric. So now we have a picture of him. And the camera in the store's parking lot captured a photo of his car."

Kate stares at the paperwork inside the file. "No license plate, but at least we have color, make, and model."

"And something else," Richard points out. "That sticker on the front windshield, corporate extended stay hotels use them to grant parking access. Ryan is tracking down what hotel issued that one."

"What about Esposito?" Kate queries. "What's he doing?"

"Take a look at the ballistics report on the bullet the doctors pulled out of you, Beckett. It's a specialty load. Esposito's trying to nail down Cedric's supplier. He's hoping the buy was made with a trackable credit or debit card."

"That's a long shot, Castle. If Cedric wants to stay under the radar, he'll use cash."

"You're right. But those bullets would have been a special order. He and the dealer would have had to at least have a conversation of sorts. If there's no card, maybe Esposito can pick something up from that. And the gun store could have surveillance that would give us a better photo than the convenience store."

"Yeah," Kate considers, "it's worth a shot."

Richard winces, throwing out his arms. "Don't say shot!"

Kate presses a hand to her chest. "Don't make me laugh. It hurts."

"Sorry, Beckett. So, as enthralling as news of the Cedric hunt may be, it's not the only thing happening in the world. I returned home to three days worth of messages on my home phone – most of them from Martha Rodgers."

"Something about your fundraiser?" Kate guesses.

"A biggie about the fundraiser. The A-listers of lower Manhattan will be making a showing."

"Castle, I must still be a little out of it. Who?"

"The celebrities who have made SOHO and Tribeca their stomping grounds. New York's power couple and one of the film industry's most distinguished actors."

"You mean, 'You talkin' to me?'" Kate queries in a bad imitation of a well-known scene.

"Yup, that guy. Our little fundraiser is shaping up to be the event of the season."

"Does that mean you're going to have to spend more time on it?"

Richard waves a dismissive hand. "Nah! Actor celebrities are Martha's bailiwick. She'll work on making them happy. Still, we'll probably have to beef up security a little. I'll have a hand in that. Ooh, maybe you can help me."

"Castle, I'll have to get out of here first."

"Of course, but the event isn't for months. And if I know my Becketts, you'll be back hot on the trail of the bad guys long before that."

Kate offers a weak smile. "Sure, Castle. No problem. Hey, can you go back to the precinct and see if the guys have anything on Cedric that didn't make this file?"

"Yeah, Beckett. Of course. But I thought that maybe we could talk for a while."

"We will, Castle," Kate insists, "soon. But I can't really think about much else while Cedric's still out there somewhere. It's not just about me. If he tries again, more people may get hurt – or killed. And my dad should be coming back soon. I want to hang with him for a while."

Richard nods. "I understand. I will hasten to ensure that the NYPD puts maximal effort into tightening the Cedric snare."

Too impatient to wait for the elevator, Richard takes the steps upstairs and enters the bullpen at a fast trot. "Got anything new on the parking sticker?" he inquires as Ryan drops his handset into its cradle.

The slim detective draws up his wiry frame. "You're just in time, Castle. Corporate Stays down on Canal Street has a guest matching Cedric's description. He checked in as Cole Maddox and listed a car like the one I saw on video on his registration. And," a grin almost envelopes Ryan's face, "the clerk saw Maddox chewing on a stick of turkey jerky."

"That's got to be Cedric!" Castle exclaims.

Esposito perches on the corner of Ryan's desk. "That was the good news. The bad news is the gun shop says our suspect didn't just purchase special loads. He bought three other kinds of ammunition. His hotel room could be an arsenal."

"We could get an ESU team to go after him," Ryan suggests.

"With the potential for that much crossfire, we'd have to clear out the hotel first," Esposito cautions. "If Cedric's there, it would warn him off."

"So, we have to get him while he's away from his room," Richard says.

"What do you mean we, Castle?" Esposito questions. "You're just supposed to be an observer."

"And I've observed a lot," Richard retorts. "For one thing, Cedric is a planner. He managed to drop just enough clues to get Beckett in his sights at Owl's Head Park. He also had his sniper's nest well prepared and had an escape route ready. So you have to catch him in a situation he hasn't had time to think out."

"Like what, Castle?" Ryan wonders.

"Sometime, Cedric's gotta eat something besides jerky. But the man obviously has a taste for meat. So, what restaurants around the hotel would he be likely to patronize?"

Ryan rapidly taps a query into his computer. "According to Map Quest, there are four restaurants in the immediate area. It's got pizza, Mexican, Chinese, and here! Daltrey's Steakhouse. If Cedric wants meat, that's where he'd get it."

"So," Richard asks, "would you gentlemen have any interest in indulging in a steak dinner?"

Enthusiasm lights Ryan's face. "My new girlfriend, Jenny, is very into health. We've been eating a lot of salads. I miss steak."

"Esposito?" Richard asks.

"Can't keep up my kind of muscle without protein. But it was your idea, Castle. You're buying."

"I'll spring for the steak," Richard agrees, "but you guys better have your cuffs ready."

Ryan waves his handcuffs over his head. "Never leave home without them."

Daltrey's is a quintessential old-school New York steak house. It makes no pretensions of offering lighter fare like chicken or fish, and the only green thing served with the meat is traditional creamed spinach, heavy on the sauce. As dinner service is beginning, Richard, Ryan, and Esposito take seats in a booth with a clear view of the door. A traditional bell signals the entrance of new customers. If Cedric enters or leaves, they can't miss him. Richard orders weighty Porterhouses for the three of them, along with generous sides of steak fries. The savory aroma of grilling meat fills the air as the steaks are flame-broiled to order.

After three days of living on what he could most quickly coax out of hospital vending machines, Richard realizes that he's starving for something more substantial. A giant Porterhouse may be overkill, but the scent drifting through the air is making his mouth water. Or maybe it's the anticipation of nailing the sonofabitch who tried to kill Beckett. He decides that it's both, but he's hungry for the latter the most.