Papa Jack Chapter 29

As Kate steps off the elevator to begin her shift at the 12th Precinct, the phone on her desk is ringing. Despite the three-inch heels on her knee-high leather boots, she quickly covers the distance to answer it. "Detective Beckett, this is Officer Reams of the Suffolk County Police Department. I spotted the van you're looking for in the parking lot of Patty's Pancakes, just outside Montauk. It's my daily breakfast stop. A waitress told me the driver is a regular and pointed me at him. He matches the picture you put out. I have him detained at our headquarters in Yaphank. My chief says we don't have anyone to spare to transport him to you. Can you come and get him?"

Yeah, I can come and get him!" Kate exclaims. "With the LIE traffic right now going the other way, I should be able to make it in under two hours. Did the suspect say anything?"

"That I didn't know how big a mistake I was making and that he wanted to finish his waffle. After that, he clammed up."

"Thanks," Kate acknowledges. "I'll be there ASAP."

Richard steps out of the elevator car just as Kate is reaching for the call button. "Where are you going, Beckett?"

"To get the van driver. Coming, Castle?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

"The van guy wanted to finish his early morning waffle at Patty's Pancakes?" Richard questions as Kate gets behind the wheel of her unit.

"That's what Officer Reams said," Kate confirms.

"I can't say much for the suspect's taste," Richard muses. "I ate at Patty's Pancakes when my dad and I went camping out that way. The pancakes aren't bad, but the waffles are soggy."

"He doesn't have great taste in professions either, Castle," Kate notes.

"Point taken. And speaking of points, I had a good time at the pub last night."

"So did I, Castle, even if you did hustle me. Mike was always telling me that cops need to kick back sometimes. I guess he was right."

"You talk about Mike a lot, Beckett," Richard observes. "A little crush on your teacher?"

Kate flushes. "Maybe, a little. But back then, just starting to try to solve my mother's murder, I needed something – or someone – to hold onto. Mike was there, and he understood how much I needed to find out what happened."

Richard stares out the windshield. "And still do. I get it, Beckett."

Kate glances sideways. "Yeah, Castle. I think you do."

"While we were waiting for you, we got his prints and sent them off to the FBI," Officer Reams says, leading the securely cuffed van driver to Beckett's unit. "You could hear something when you get back to your precinct. I'll make sure the van is towed to the city, too. Good luck."

"Hey, I appreciate it, Reams," Kate responds, shoving her prisoner into the back seat of her unit. "Thanks."

"No problem," Reams declares, his eyes drinking in Kate's slim but shapely frame. "We cops gotta stick together, right? Maybe I'll see you again sometime."

"Maybe," Kate repeats, double-checking that the suspect is secure. "Thanks again."

As the car's engine roars to life, Richard shoots Kate a knowing look. "I think Officer Reams likes you."

"I like him too – for spotting our suspect. But all I'm interested in now is what moves our investigation along." The van driver smirks and makes a zipping motion across his lips.

"Get anything out of your prisoner?" Montgomery asks when Kate stops into his office to check in.

"The only word he said on the trip from Long Island was 'lawyer,'" she reports. "But he was wearing a ring like the ones Lionel Marcus and our John Doe have. I sent it to the lab to be analyzed for traces of the wax with the Cypriot sienna. If it matches, we'll have a tie to WH Enterprises. I'm still waiting for his prints to come back. One or the other or both should give me something I can use to put pressure on when his lawyer shows up, and I can question him. Hopefully, he'll give us enough to get with the Suffolk County cops to serve a warrant on WH Enterprises."

"Where's Castle?" Montgomery inquires.

"He got a call from his publisher. He had to go to a meeting about setting up his next book tour. But he said he'd be back as soon as he could."

Montgomery nods. "I'm betting that he doesn't want to miss it when you get to question your suspect."

"No, Sir. I imagine he doesn't."

Richard squirms in his chair in the Black Pawn conference room as blonde and flawlessly attired Gina Cowell projects PowerPoint slides of his proposed itinerary on a screen pulled down from the ceiling. "The tour will start as usual at The Strand. Castle will also be doing the national and local TV and radio morning shows here before he moves on to Chicago. He'll do the local TV and radio shows there as well. He'll be doing his reading and booksigning at Barnes and Noble. From there, he moves on to St. Louis, Las Vegas, San Francisco, and finally, LA, where he'll do his last media blitz."

"How long do I have before all this starts, and how soon can I get back?" Richard asks.

"You'll be doing your New York TV and radio spots the first week of November, with the signing at the Strand on November 5," Gina replies. "You can fly out to Chicago that night. We'll want the whole thing wrapped up by Black Friday so people already have your book in mind for their Christmas shopping."

"So I'll be gone about three weeks," Richard calculates. "That's not as bad as I thought. But it doesn't give me much time to help Beckett wrap up her investigation."

"Richard, you're a writer, not a cop," Gina declares. "Researching is fine, but don't start believing your own press. Your job is writing and promoting your books, and if you forgot that, I can give you a copy of your contract to refresh your memory."

"I don't need my memory refreshed, Gina," Richard retorts. "But I may also be on the inside of something that will rock this country more than anything – except 9/11 – since Watergate. That is doing my job, and I'm not about to blow it."

"Are you sure it's just about the writing, Richard?" Gina questions.

Casters squeal as Richard shoves his chair away from the massive table. "Black Pawn will get what it pays for," Richard returns. "Anything else is none of your damn business."

After half running toward the curb outside of Black Pawn, Richard stops to take a breath before trying to hail a cab. Gina has often rubbed him the wrong way, but he's never exploded at her, or anyone at Black Pawn, before. Hanging out with Kate Beckett seemed best for everyone concerned, relative safety for him, and good PR for the NYPD. Everybody wins. But until that moment, he hadn't realized just how invested in his detective work – and Kate Beckett – he has become. As a best-selling author, he's met a lot of beautiful women, some more beautiful than Kate Beckett. But until now, he's never felt the pull from any of them that he feels for her. He doesn't know whether to be happy or scared out of his mind. Maybe both.