104. Chapter 104

SC – 104

For Kate, Friday morning came with the promise of dinner with her men. Castle would be there with Jamie to pick her up at the end of her shift. The workday started easily; their last case was closed, and they had turned in their paperwork the day before. Then, just before ten, the captain was suddenly in the bullpen bellowing at Griffith.

"What the hell did you do last night? I just had some woman on the phone telling me that if I didn't fire you she was going to sue the city. Among other things, she said you shoved her up against a wall."

"Sir, I…" Griffith started, but she was cut off.

"She says she's already put her story on her Facebook page. You know what that means. It's going to be all over the internet, and the brass is going to pick up on it."

"Sir, if you…"

"Desk duty until further notice!" Pointing a finger at her angrily, he added, And if reporters show up, don't say a word. We'll deal with this later. I have to make a phone call. I don't need this kind of nuisance."

Washington made an effort to defend her. "Sir, I was there, and…"

"Then you're on desk duty, too."

"Captain…" Beckett managed to say before she was cut off as well.

"You stay out of it, Beckett."

Beckett's response after he left was to go directly to Griffith's desk and ask for her side of the story. The woman who was complaining had apparently taken offense to the benign question Griffith was asking in reference to the case they were working on and had been hostile, spewing expletives and accusations as she ran from the area.

Washington backed up Griffith's assertion that she had done nothing threatening or offensive.

"Were there witnesses?" Beckett asked.

"Probably a dozen," Griffith answered.

"Check the notes I just took and make corrections if you or Washington need to add or adjust anything. Then copy any notes from the situation last night, especially anything specific to this woman, and give them to me. I'll see what I can get from the witnesses. Do it now while he's making his phone call."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Griffith said, looking down. "He…"

Beckett smiled, giving Griffith's arm an encouraging pat as she stood. Griffith and Washington read through her notes and added a couple of of their own. Equipped with the notes she had taken on what she believed to be accurate information, she was only waiting until Griffith had made her copies before she faced Bronson to ask about dealing with the problem. While Griffith was at the copier and Beckett was explaining the situation to her team, Deputy Chief Alvarez stepped out of the elevator and walked directly into the bullpen.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen." The detectives began to stand, but he told them to sit down, that he was only there for a visit.

The sound had immediately drawn Bronson to see who was addressing his homicide detectives; and standing behind the deputy chief, he didn't look pleased. However, he put on his game face and walked up beside him. "Good morning, Sir. How can we help you?"

"Just here for a visit, Captain. I wanted to see how our pilot program is progressing. Chief Dawson and I will be making several visits over the next six months to gauge the possible benefits."

"It's a little early to see much of a change yet," Bronson answered.

"We need to see the present situation so we have a basis for comparison later," Alvarez explained. "I've already spoken to the team in Robbery. Detective Beckett, is everything working well here for you and your partners?"

"We're fine, Sir."

As she answered, the deputy chief was looking around at the other detectives in the room. "No problems at all?"

"Well, apparently there was an incident last night, and someone has made accusations against one of our detectives. It's likely that there's nothing to it, but the woman has called the captain and seemed determined to make trouble."

"When did she call?'

"This morning…about fifteen minutes ago. That was the first I'd heard of it," Bronson answered, glaring at Beckett from where he stood slightly forward of Alvarez.

"I assume an investigation is in the planning stages."

"Yes, Sir," Bronson said.

"We don't have a case right now, and information has already been gathered from Detective Griffith and her partner. Detective Sully and I are willing to help when the captain is ready," Beckett responded.

Looking at Bronson, Alvarez said, "I'm sure that won't be long. Right, Captain?"

"No, Sir. Not long at all," Bronson answered.

"I'd like your thoughts before I go, Captain Bronson. Your office?"

Bronson motioned toward his office and walked back there with Alvarez. The deputy chief closed the door behind him and said, "Don't give your sergeant trouble for not alerting you to my presence. He was under orders not to…and will be for other unannounced visits as well. That goes for the other precincts, too."

"Yes, Sir."

"Do you have any thoughts on the effectiveness of the new personnel?" Are they getting the job done? Making an effort to be part of the precinct? Are others here making an effort to work with them?"

"Robbery is working on a case that came in on Wednesday. Homicide caught a case on Monday and cleared it on Thursday afternoon. Everything was in order before they left yesterday. The rest is okay. Too early to know much on that score yet," he answered, still standing.

Detective Beckett told me she and her partners were fine here, but the surprised looks on the faces of the other detectives told me a different story. I'm not new at this and didn't get here by not being a good detective myself; and I suspect your behavior toward the teams from the twelfth, to be polite, hasn't been particularly helpful. My intentions in regard to your behavior still stand if I find evidence of abuse of power or attempts to sabotage this program. Lieutenant Beckett has given me no indication that there's a problem; but if you know the situation to be different, you should think twice about what you're doing. Since it's so early in the transfers, I expect she was trying to keep the peace. However, future visits at the four precincts will include private interviews with random members of the personnel; and if a problem is there, it will come out eventually. You don't like this state of affairs, and I understand that. But remember that it's Chief Dawson's orders…for all of us. We'll be working with it until the end of December." He turned back as he reached for the door knob. "In case you were concerned about your detectives at the twelfth, they've been welcomed at that precinct and seem to be acclimating well. Oh, and Beckett already has the information she needs. You could save yourself some time and stress by letting her investigate this new problem before it has a chance to get bigger. If reporters start to hone in, she knows how to handle them." Then he left.

Bronson sat down at his desk and glowered at the doorway where the deputy chief had just walked away, then he resentfully stood again to call Beckett and let her look into his Griffith troubles. He stood in the hallway near the bullpen and called her name rather than bellowed it.

"Yes, Sir?"

"My office now," he said as he turned and walked back.

"Good luck," Sully muttered.

"Thanks."

"Close the door," Bronson ordered when she arrived. Sounding resigned, he indicated a chair near his desk and grumped, "Might as well sit down."

Beckett sat confidently, and he looked at her intently, again leaning back in his chair. "I guess you figure I owe you now?"

"I'm pretty sure you do," she answered.

"So what are you hoping to get for yourself from this?"

"I don't know why you've taken such a dislike to me, Captain; but I'm going to speak my mind, and you can write me up if you feel the need. It can't make you angrier at me than you already are. I'm not looking for anything for myself. To be honest, I've been through a lot during my time in the department. There are several close seconds; but the worst of it was being shot in the chest by a sniper, and spending over a year after that knowing I had a target on my back, wondering when it might happen again. You're an NYPD captain. I imagine you were at Roy's funeral that day. It took me almost four months of pain and hard work to get back to full duty after it happened, so I'm sure I'll survive whatever you have in store for me for the next four months. At this point, the harassment here is barely a blip on my radar."

"Then what did you expect to gain from your little act out there?"

"I want the harassment and humiliations to stop. Keep in mind that I'm perfectly capable of filling out complaint forms if necessary, but I'd rather give us all enough leeway to work it out. Right now, I'm the lieutenant for your homicide division; so while I'm here, your people are my people, too; and I intend to have their backs when they need it. You've been harassing all of us from the twelfth since we walked in here on Monday, and we can take it; but we shouldn't have to. We plan to work just as hard for you as we have for anybody else. And I've seen the way you treat the people who were already working for you, the lack of respect or encouragement, the public snide remarks. What I want out of 'my little act' is for that to stop. Nobody expects you to turn warm and fuzzy, pay compliments and pat people on the back. Just don't make their jobs harder. We both know how fast an innocent looking situation can go bad. They put their lives on the line every time they go out of the precinct, and they deserve respect for that."

"Well, aren't you all sunshine and buttercups?" he said sarcastically.

"No, Sir. I just know it's easier to do a good job when you don't dread having to go to work."

"Hmmmph!

"I'm pretty sure Alvarez had something to say to you this morning, but he brought it back here rather than making it public. This morning, with Griffith? That should have been handled the same way, but it wasn't; and as a result you have potential trouble brewing and still have no idea what actually happened. If someone from 1PP calls, you still don't know her side of the story. If it turns out to be her fault, so be it; but she didn't need to be humiliated in the bullpen."

"So this is the women sticking together?"

"No. It's cops giving their own a fair chance. If she created the problem, she should have to deal with the consequences. If she didn't, she deserves the department's support….starting here."

Bronson seemed to be assessing her again and still didn't look happy, but he did seem to be thinking it through. Grudgingly he told her, "Since you already have the information, you might as well go ahead and investigate. I'm guessing you talked to Griffith as soon as I left the room."

"I did."

"Even though I told you to stay out of it?"

"My people. I intend to back them up."

"Fine," he huffed. "Tell me what happened." Beckett repeated Griffith's explanation and Washington's additional comments, and then he said gruffly, "Go find your witnesses. See if we can make this go away."

"Thank you."

"Beckett, I'm giving you today, but don't ever try to speak for me or go around me like that again, especially in front of a superior officer. Is that clear?"

"Understood. I realize I overstepped; but for all of us, it needed to be handled quickly. And some of it turned out to your advantage."

"You got balls. I'll give you that," he grumbled as she stood.

"Inappropriate, Sir. But no. No truth to that rumor."

There was a non-descript snort of a noise from Bronson that could almost have been interpreted as humor, accompanied by a dismissive wave of his hand, and Beckett went to consult with Sully before leaving to find witnesses.

xxxxx

Beckett and Sully spoke to the manager of the neighborhood deli where the incident with Griffith had taken place. The owner said he was at the door, saw the entire incident, and assured them that none of the accusations were accurate. He said he had gone to school with the woman in question.

"She's always looked for ways to cause trouble, and social media has made it worse; but it's always been feuds with the neighbors, local businesses, that kind of thing. Wherever she is, you can bet somebody has a cell phone ready to record. You never know when she'll start something, but she's never gone after the police like this before. You should have at least ten witnesses from last night who would back Detective Griffith, some who were in our outdoor seating area and a few who were just passing by. When she was Officer Griffith, she was great, treated us with respect and got the same in return. She took time with the kids and spent a little extra time with the ones who looked like they were headed for trouble, and the older people sort of adopted her. She did some community work sometimes on her time off, too. All of us appreciated her. Ol' Marsha picked on the wrong person this time. Most of the neighborhood will help you however we can. Can't you arrest Marsha for a false report or something?"

"We're looking into all of it. Did any of the witnesses, your customers, pay with cards last night?"

"Yeah. Come on in. I'll see if I can find them. Do you want the CCTV recording? I have names of a couple of the people passing by, but not addresses. Anything you need, just ask. I'd love to see her locked up, even if it's just for a couple of days."

They found names of two witnesses through their credit card receipts. All of them lived in the area, and others turned up in a chain, one witness having some information they could use to find another one. By late afternoon, as well as the camera footage from the deli, they had found and interviewed eight witnesses, all of whom backed Griffith's story; and three of them had videos on their phones.

It seemed that Griffith and Washington had stopped and spoken to passersby and to people who were seated in the outside area of the little deli, presenting a photo and asking if they had seen their person of interest. The question had been phrased the same way to each potential witness, but the woman in question, Marsha Talbot, had started shouting that she didn't even know the man and she was being accused of a crime(which neither detective mentioned). Her Facebook page added that Griffith had shoved her against the wall and threatened before she ran in fear of injury.

The witnesses, however, said that Marsha had flung herself against the wall and started shouting as if she had been pushed. Then she ran from the restaurant, shouting expletives and accusations as everyone else, including the detectives, who obviously never touched her, gaped in astonishment. The videos, taken from three different angles, clearly backed the witnesses.

When they returned to the precinct, the Facebook page had drawn some interest, but the refuting evidence was clear.

Beckett and Sully organized the evidence, presented it to Bronson and left the rest to him. He grunted something that might, although quite vaguely, be interpreted as appreciation, or at least acknowledgment, before they left.

By the time all that was done, the detectives' shifts were over, and the desk sergeant was calling. "Beckett, I got a couple of guys down here that claim to be yours…one big one and one little one. Should I send them up?"

"Yeah. They won't be up here long. Thanks, Cortez."

While they were on the way up, Beckett took time for a bathroom break so they could leave as soon as possible, and Esposito walked over to greet Castle when he exited the elevator with Jamie in his arms.

"Hey, you brought Baby Castle."

"Tio Javi!" Jamie giggled as Esposito tickled his tummy.

Then Beckett was back in the room, and Jamie turned to Castle with an expression on his face identical to the exaggerated one Castle used so often when he was reading or playing with his son. Jamie gave the exact same little gasp of surprise along with the wide eyes, pointed and said, "Mommy!" Then he turned toward Beckett and was bouncing and squirming to get to her.

"Geez, Castle," Esposito said with a laugh. "It isn't enough the poor kid's your clone? You have to teach him your expressions, too?"

Complete, adorable innocence wasn't something common to the homicide bullpen, and all eyes were on them.

"Hey, Castle," Beckett said with full eye contact and a smile nobody at the fifty-first had seen before, then she turned her attention to her son, holding out her arms. "Hand over my baby."

Jamie practically threw himself out of Castle's arms and into his mother's. She hugged him, and he sat up on her arm as she held him, patting his little hands in places all over his face and saying, "Tiss, tiss tiss, tiss, tiss, tiss, tiss, with a big smile.

Beckett planted kisses rapidly all over his face; and he belly laughed, creating smiles on the faces of half the people in the bullpen. Castle watched the two of them with the pride of a loving husband and father and enjoyed knowing that her family could bring that smile from her in spite of a rough week.

"Sorry," Beckett apologized to the rest of the bullpen. "We'll take this display elsewhere. These two gentlemen are taking me out for dinner. This is my husband, Richard Castle, and our son, Jamie."

Some hands were lifted in greeting, and there were a few handshakes for Castle as people left their work hours behind. Several versions of "Cute kid" were heard during the exchanges, and Castle was his usual gregarious self. Bronson stood and watched from the short hallway outside his office, but he said nothing. Beckett, with Jamie clinging to her like a koala, picked up her purse from the desk drawer and joined Castle, who was talking to Farmer.

As they were leaving, Castle's hand at the small of his wife's back, they couldn't miss Bronson standing there; so Beckett introduced him to Castle. Bronson nodded, and Castle said, "Good to meet you", and that was it. No handshake, no further words. But no snide remarks, either…from either man. Small blessings.

After they entered the elevator, Beckett said, "God, when did I turn into that mom who turns completely unprofessional in public at the sight of her baby? I totally forgot myself."

"You totally looked like a professional woman who's completely in love with her baby. And besides, your shift was over. You were off the job. Don't stress over it."

"He's definitely worth a little embarrassment."

"Yeah, he is. Where would you like to go for dinner?" Castle asked as they left the elevator. "Do you want to try somewhere around here or would you rather go back to Manhattan?"

"There's a place a few blocks from here. The owner helped us out on the case we just closed and invited us to try out his restaurant for lunch one day, but we never got there. Some of the others said it's good, though."

"What's it called?"

"Frenchy's" The owner's name is Willis French."

Beckett introduced her husband and son when the owner came to greet them; and Mr. French, the upset of a murder investigation being over, insisted they call him Frenchy. "The rest of the neighborhood does," he said. "And from what I hear, you're going to be part of it for a while, Lieutenant Beckett. I'll be happy to have you here any time. You, too, Mr. Castle."

He seated them, brought a high chair, interacted with Jamie for a minute, and handed them their menus before a look crossed his face. "Castle? Richard Castle, the writer?"

Castle nodded and put a finger to his lips hoping the man would understand he didn't want to be noticed. Fortunately, the question had been asked amid the noise of the early dinner crowd.

"Then you must be…"

Beckett interrupted. "I'm just me. He took some elements of me and made up the rest of her. She's fiction. I'm not."

"Sorry." There was a twinkle in his eye, though. "My wife will be so excited about this. We both like your books."

"I appreciate that. It's always nice to know somebody is enjoying them."

"I should let you look at the menu. I'll send you a server in a couple of minutes."

The server was a young woman who had been in the restaurant when Scott Rhodes had left with the detectives. Frenchy had alerted his employees to the situation, so she recognized Beckett. After a long moment with Jamie, who had a strong charm offensive going that evening, she said, "Hi Lieutenant Beckett. I'm Reba. Your little boy is adorable. Have you decided what you want yet, or do you need a few minutes?" Beckett ordered, and then Reba said, "This must be your husband." Hearing an affirmative, Reba turned to Castle and asked, "What can I get for you, Mr. Beckett?"

After a nonplussed moment and watching a tiny, smirk on his wife's lips, he answered smoothly, "Mr. Beckett will have the rib-eye steak." When the order was complete and Reba left, he looked at Kate and said "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"Yeah." She giggled. "It's one way to be more anonymous, don't you think?"

"So, if Frenchy doesn't give us away, we're the Beckett's tonight?" Kate grinned mischievously and nodded, and they turned back to Jamie. "Good thing you're too young for an identity crisis, Kid," he told his son good naturedly.

They thoroughly enjoyed the meal and the service and complimented the owner before they left.

"Glad you enjoyed it," Frenchy told them. "Come back again when you have a chance."

"Count on it," Castle answered.

Jamie got another little bit of the man's attention and smiled and waved over Castle's shoulder when Beckett told him to say goodbye. Then they went home and enjoyed some quiet time before Jamie was asleep.

Kate sat down on the sofa looking tired and Castle followed her. "You said it was an interesting day. Tell me about it," he said, sitting down beside her and swinging an arm around her shoulders.

She relayed Griffith's problem with Marsha Talbot. Then she told him about her very frank conversation with Captain Bronson, and the "get out of jail free card" she gave him when she answered Alvarez about how her team was faring at the fifty-first.

"I'd been looking for an opening to talk to him all week, and I admit that I saw the opportunity and took advantage of the fact that he might think he owed me one. I did it intentionally so I could make my point for everybody else, and then I overstepped in answering the deputy chief about Griffith with Bronson right there. I didn't trust Bronson to handle it well, and I wanted to be sure Griffith wouldn't have the problem hanging over her longer than necessary. I pushed my luck pretty hard, and he had every right to give me trouble this time. He was still cantankerous, but he listened…with annoyance, but he listened. It may accomplish nothing, but I tried."

"You brought him everything he needed to take care of the problem with Griffith, and he didn't have to lift a finger to get it. That's bound to be worth something."

"Maybe. I guess I'll know next week. He let it go today, but he warned me not to do anything like that again. I already knew that, though. I did push it." She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I'm proud of you," he told her and planted a kiss on her head. He knew she would feel his lips turn up in a smile as he added, "Your sugar daddy is available anytime it gets too hard to take."

She laughed and swatted his arm lightly before answering, "Good to know." After a few minutes of sitting quietly just enjoying being close, she said. "I'm on call this weekend, and considering how this week has gone, I'll probably get the first call that comes in."

"Then you should to go to bed and get some sleep."

"Could we go to bed and not get some sleep first?" she asked mischievously.

"Oh, I could definitely live with that," he answered with his smirky little half smile and stood, holding his hand out to help her up.