Papa Jack Chapter 53

"The hotel packed us some great goodies, so if you don't want to, we won't have to stop along the way except to pee," Richard says as he and Kate load the trunk of their upscale rental car.

Kate nods. "Good. I want to get to the prison as soon as possible."

Richard's eyes scan appreciatively down Kate's trim form, sheathed in a silk body suit emphasizing every curve. "Your outfit looks, um, comfortable."

"The silk breathes," Kate points out. "So it is. But it should also get Crizuela's attention."

Richard gulps air as he closes the trunk. "I suspect it will both attract and hold it. Shall we get going?"

"The sooner, the better," Kate agrees as Richard heads for the driver's side door. "I should drive."

Richard shakes his head. "Beckett, the car's in my name. Do you even have an International Driving Permit?"

"I got one before I went to Russia, and I kept it up. So, no problem. Come on, Castle. I was a patrol officer. I have NYPD training and probably more hours on the road than most people on the planet."

Sighing, Richard turns away from the driver's side of the car and tosses Kate the keys. "All right, Beckett. But this isn't an official NYPD vehicle. When you get tired, we can switch off."

Kate smoothly slides behind the wheel. "Yeah, sure, Castle. Let's go."

"You really can't stand not being in control, can you?" Richard asks as Kate navigates their route to Vista Hermosa.

Defiance edges Kate's voice. "Castle, what are you talking about?"

"I rented the car. It would be most people's expectation that I would drive it, but you insisted on taking over. It's the same way with investigations. You want to be the one who asks the questions, who decides what evidence is relevant – even if you want me to dig it up. You work with Ryan and Esposito, but you always grab the lead. When we report to Captain Montgomery, you're always the first one through the door of his office. Actually, you want to be the first one through the door everywhere. You hate it when someone else takes point. You're a control freak, Beckett."

Braking abruptly, Kate pulls to the side of the road. "Is that how you see me, Castle?"

"Beckett, you are a supremely capable, accomplished, and formidable woman. You're also beautiful as hell but just as stubborn. The way I see you is as a mystery I may never solve, but I can't resist trying."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

"The way I'd solve any mystery: use the clues to peel back the layers until I get to the core of the solution. But your intriguing choice of clothing notwithstanding, I suspect there are a lot of layers."

Kate starts the car again. "Castle, you're going to have to save any peeling until after I see Bracken."

Richard's eyebrows shoot to his hairline. "Is that a raincheck, Beckett?"

Kate pulls back onto the highway. "Castle, let's just get to Vista Hermosa."

Richard slumps in his seat. "Right. The detective wants back on the trail."

A guard at the gate of Vista Hermosa regards Kate with prurient suspicion and alternates thumbing through her paperwork with staring down her cleavage. Richard holds up an envelope. "I think this must be what you're looking for," he says in Spanish, practiced during the trip to the prison. "But shouldn't you let El Jefe enjoy the view?"

Quickly snatching the envelope, the guard takes a hurried look at the currency inside before allowing himself one more long gaze at Kate's most obvious assets. "Si." He signals for the pair to follow him through a crumbling structure to a suite of rooms that might have been in another country. The walls are richly paneled in rare dark wood, and the floors are covered in handmade carpets. A highly polished table holds an assortment of expensive liquor and sparkling glassware. A compact but well-muscled man sporting several multicolor tattoos looks up from a computer. "Kate Beckett y Richard Castle," the guard announces.

"Mr. Crizuela?' Kate inquires.

Crizuela's gaze sweeps slowly and appraisingly down Kate's body before shifting to Richard. "Richard Castle, the writer?"

Richard inclines his head. "Guilty as charged."

"I enjoy your books very much. But you are an American, and Vista Hermosa is hardly a tourist attraction. What brings you and your stunning companion into my territory?"

"Is William Bracken here?" Kate blurts out.

"Oh, the American congressman. He's from New York, isn't he? Have you come to negotiate some kind of consideration for a man from your home state?"

A very unladylike snort explodes from Kate's nose. "Only if that consideration is to see him hanging by his balls. That sonofabitch contracted the hit that killed my mother!"

A grin spreads across Crizuela's face. "So, did you come to kill him yourself? Perhaps cut him up piece by piece? That's something I would enjoy watching. I'd even allow you to select a knife from my collection."

"That's a very tempting offer," Kate responds, "but I would rather have him suffer as long as possible the way my father and I suffered my mother's loss."

"So you want him alive but wishing he wasn't," Crizuela assumes.

"Something like that," Kate agrees.

"Well, all sorts of things can happen to a man in a place like this. As much as I like Castle's books and would love to please you, I will need more material motivation to grant your desire."

Richard pulls another envelope from inside his shirt. "Of course. But until we complete that arrangement, Kate here will need to assure herself of Bracken's presence within these walls."

Crizuela grins again. "You wish to witness your mother's killer's torment. A reasonable request. I will take you to him myself. I believe you will be very pleased."

William Bracken's blonde hair lies limp, greasy, and dirty against his scalp. His lips are split in two places, and bruising the shape of tightly grasping fingers darkens his arms. Huddled in a corner of a tiny cell holding five other prisoners, he flinches at the sound of approaching footsteps. Still, when he spots what he only perceives as American visitors, he throws himself against the bars of his cell. "Thank God someone came! It's all a mistake, a misunderstanding. I didn't know what was on that boat. I'm just a tourist. I didn't do anything wrong."

From the height of spike heels she put on at the last minute to match her come-hither garment, Kate stares down at him with hard eyes. "Still lying, aren't you, Bracken?"

The confused former congressman looks up at her. "You don't understand. I didn't…. You're Kate Beckett!"

"That's right. You hired Dick Coonan to murder my mother and so many others. You filled the streets of my city with poison and sent out your men to kill and steal so you could buy more. And even now, you're trying to con me by playing the innocent. Well, you're not innocent, Bracken. You're as guilty as they come, maybe more so than any man in this prison. No one is buying your lies anymore, and you're going to pay for every one of them." Kate turns to Crizuela. "I've seen enough."

"So, Bracken will live?" Richard questions, holding up an envelope as he and Beckett prepare to leave the prison.

"Mr. Castle, Ms. Beckett," Crizuela returns, "as you have observed, for most of the prisoners, Vista Hermosa is not a healthy place. It is overcrowded. Diseases spread uncontrolled. The nutrition is far from the best. Prisoners have disputes, many of them violent. Not many here live long lives. But I can guarantee that Bracken's life will not be ended deliberately. He will stay alive long enough to experience the worst of what Vista Hermosa inflicts on those confined here. That is my deal with Ms. Beckett and with you."

Richard glances toward Kate, who nods. He hands Crizuela the envelope. "Beckett and I are ready to leave."

"Of course," Crizuela accepts. "I'll have a guard show you out."

"Castle, how much did you give Crizuela?" Kate asks as Richard takes the driver's seat for their return trip.

"As much as Coonan claimed Bracken paid him to kill your mother. Somehow, it seemed appropriate."

Kate presses her fingers to her lips. "I'll find a way to pay you back somehow, I promise."

"No need, Beckett. Even suitably disguised, this whole adventure will make one hell of a book. Crizuela might even enjoy reading it. But you and I have some other things to talk about."

"Yes," Kate concedes, "we do."