Papa Jack Chapter 89

Richard drops into the chair in front of his computer. "Emails about salons. Here we are. Kate, there was one planned for last night. The subject was 'Are Nerds Signs of Human Evolution in an Increasingly Technological Society?' Hmm, that would have been interesting to attend if we hadn't been doing something so much more stimulating."

"Where was it held?" Kate asks.

"Wow! This says the address is right across the street from Va-J-J. The salon ran from eight to ten. So someone leaving might have seen something."

"Ask for a list of attendees, Castle," Kate instructs. "We'll contact them and find out."

"Martha looks up from her salad at a small café well away from the theater district. "Jack, tell me about Richard. What was he like growing up?"

Jack lays his French dip sandwich back on his plate. "He was a handful but a writer almost from his first breath. Forget the toy trucks and teddy bears. He wanted crayons, then pencils, and paper. I got him those fat pencils he could maneuver with his little hands. He loved books, too. When he was barely walking, I began taking him to the library every week. We started with simple books, like The Cat in the Hat. I'd read them to him, but before he turned three, he was reading them to me. Then, I started checking out primers, the kind that are supposed to go through a semester. He could go through one of those in a week and read it to me, too. But he liked writing even better. He started making up stories about the characters in the books or cartoons on TV. But then, even before he started kindergarten, he had characters of his own. And he just kept going.

"I had a hard time convincing him to play outside, so we started taking trips to the woods where I could point out things he could use in his stories. Some of the kids at school started bullying him about being a nerd who wrote so much, so I made sure he learned self-defense. It turned out he was good at it."

"Didn't he want to play sports with the other children?" Martha probes.

"You mean like join Little League? No, he wasn't interested in baseball. He said it was too slow to write about. And he thought chess was a better war game than football. But I did keep him going outside with me. We went camping. He liked to use the details about the forest and wilderness in his tales about his heroes and villains hiding out and living off the land. Richard's always been interested in food."

"I've noticed that interest," Martha acknowledges. "He has an excellent palate."

"Oh, but there was one sport he really liked – still does," Jack continues. "After he read The Three Musketeers, he begged to take fencing lessons. Richard wrote a few historical novels under the pseudonym Horatio St. John. He used the fencing in those. Richard uses what he learns about and loves – or hates - in his stories. He's always been like that. He reads, he soaks it all in, and he writes. But he's also a good man. He cares about what happens to other people. That shows up in his stories, too."

Martha nods. "I know, I've read some of them. And he wouldn't have done the fundraiser with me if he hadn't cared. You did a good job, Jack – better than I could have done, even if I had the money to raise him."

Jack reaches across the table for her hand. "You don't know that. I had no idea how to raise Richard – or any child – until I did it. I just had to feel my way along." Jack smiles wryly. "Believe me, there were moments when I was sure I was over my head. But Richard and I got through them."

"Richard's grown up now, Jack – more or less. Life goes on. What do you want to do with yours now?"

"I have obligations that have nothing to do with Richard, Martha. I have to fulfill them."

"That's work, Jack. No time for anything else?"

Jack envelopes Martha's hand in both of his own. "Maybe I can make time."

"Still no answers from anyone who was at that salon, Castle?" Kate asks as they approach the building housing Connie Bellweather's apartment.

Richard shoves his cell phone back into his pocket. "No, but there are a lot of artsy types in my neighborhood. They're probably either deep into the creative process or sound asleep. I sent out a mass email before we left my loft, and I've been leaving voicemails. If anyone on the list knows anything, I may hear about it tonight. Are you going to ask Connie's super to let us into her place?"

Kate holds up a key ring attached to a miniature water bottle. "No need. Her keys were in her tote under the counter. Ms. Bassey said she always kept them there."

Kate examines the contents of Connie Bellweather's closet. "Looks like Connie was really into the health thing, Castle. She has six running suits and four pairs of athletic shoes. She also has T-shirts with logos from various charity runs. Most of her clothes are pure cotton, too. They'd all breathe when she was active."

"She apparently shared Ms. Bassey's opinion about water being the secret to well-being," Castle notes from the kitchen. "She has four cases of water. Hmm, this is interesting. Three of them are of one brand, but the other one is different. Maybe she was trying out a new hydration. The bottles are labeled Lifestream. I've never heard of it. Have you?"

"Not until today," Kate says. "But that's the same name that was on the bottle on her keychain."

"Maybe she was recruited as a beta tester before a public release," Richard proposes.

"Maybe," Kate considers. "Her whole health thing would make her a good candidate for testing like that."

"Healthy people without a mark on them don't just die at 35," Richard points out.

"Until we hear from Perlmutter, we won't know if she was healthy or not," Kate reminds him. "But in the meantime, if she didn't die of natural causes, there should be a clue around here somewhere. Let's check her desk."

Richard examines the indicated piece of furniture. "Hmm, look at the warren of little cubbyholes. This must be either an antique or a reproduction. Some desks like this had hidden compartments. There would be a little spring or something." Richard feels around. "Darn! No luck on secret springs! But ooh, Beckett, look at this! It's an NDA from the Lifestream water company. Why would a water company need an NDA from a beta tester?"

"Lots of companies ask for NDAs about almost everything," Kate says. "My father told me he looks over a lot of them for clients. It's a small but pretty steady income stream for him."

"Nice to know he's got something he can depend on," Richard says. "Maybe he should have a look at this NDA. We could see if he wants to have dinner with us."

"That would be nice. I spotted him at the fundraiser, but I didn't have a chance to do more than wave before he took off. There was a cash bar. The affair might not have been the most comfortable place for him to be."

"Probably not. A lot of attendees availed themselves of the potent potables. They brought in a considerable percentage of the proceeds. Well, we can invite him to a nice cozy spot with no wine list," Richard offers.

A smile brightens Kate's face. "Sounds good."