Heat Rises (39 page)

When Detective Nikki Heat emerged at the top of the steps, bearing the front corner of the casket, there was nothing to see that morning outside St. Patrick’s but an ocean of dress blue and white gloves in salute. A lone bagpipe played the opening notes of the sober, joyful “Amazing Grace” and was soon joined by the full pipes and muffled drums of the NYPD’s Emerald Society. The only thing missing that morning was Rook. As Heat beheld the spectacle, she could only imagine how Jameson Rook would have captured it. And made it live beyond the day.

She and the other pallbearers, including Detectives Raley and Ochoa, and Eddie Hawthorne, descended slowly, carrying the fallen commander under the traditional flag of green and white stripes.

Once his body was in the hearse, Heat, Raley, Ochoa, and Hawthorne moved across the avenue to fall in with the grim block of detectives in their tan overcoats. Nikki chose the spot beside Detective Feller, who had stubbornly abandoned his wheelchair for the moment to stand out of respect.

The mayor, the commissioner, and all the other top brass descended from the cathedral to the curb and stood, either saluting or with hands over hearts, before the remains of Captain Charles Montrose at the Full Honors funeral Nikki had attained.

At the conclusion of “Amazing Grace,” the elite motorcycle brigade formed up for escort at the front of the car while the band made two columns behind the vehicle. The muffled drums began their somber cadence, the motorcycles rolled slowly, and the hearse followed.

Then Nikki heard them coming. The low drone sounded just like the pipes at first, but the sound grew, expanding until the thundering vibration shook the concrete canyons of Midtown. Discipline wavered as all eyes ascended to see four
NYPD
helicopters zoom up Fifth Avenue. The instant they were above the cathedral, one of the choppers pulled up and broke away. The other three continued on in Missing Man Formation.

As soon as they were gone, she returned her attention to the passing hearse, saluting her captain, mentor, and friend. As it moved by the dignitaries, the police commissioner caught Heat’s eye and gave her an approving nod. At least that’s what it looked like through the haze of her tears.

The first thing Nikki did when she entered Rook’s room in
ICU
was to check the screen for activity. Heartened to see regular green spikes, she stood over him and took his hand. She squeezed lightly and waited, hoping, but her only feedback was his warmth, which was something, anyway. Leaning carefully over his breathing tubes, she kissed his forehead, which felt dry to her lips. His eyes were closed, but when the lids fluttered, she took his fingers in hers again. Nothing. One of them must have been dreaming.

Exhausted from the day, she pulled the plastic guest chair bedside and sat, resting her eyes. She awoke with a start an hour later when her cell phone vibrated. It was a text from Ochoa, who had just gotten confirmation from Ballistics that the bullet he had recovered from the water tower checked out as Montrose’s, matching the reloads from the belt mag. She had just texted back to congratulate him when the nurse came in to hang a fresh bag on the IV tree. The nurse stepped out, only to return a moment later. She placed a container of orange juice and a chewy granola bar on the tray for Nikki and left again.

Heat sat there for another hour, simply watching the rise and fall of Rook’s chest, glad for that miracle and knowing that she would so never hear the end of this.

If he pulled through.

During the eleven o’clock news she ate her snack, and when it ended, she muted the TV. With the report that steam service had been fully restored to all of Manhattan by now, she could finally go back to her apartment. Nikki thought of her own bed . . . of the bubble bath that awaited her. She got up and picked up her coat, but didn’t put it on. Instead, she pulled out the paperback from the side pocket and sat back down.

“Are you ready for some cultural stimulation, Mr. Rook?” Heat glanced up at him and then back to the cover of the novel. ” ‘
Castle of Her Endless Longing
, by Victoria St. Clair.’ Like the title. . . .” She turned to the first chapter and began to read aloud, ” ‘Lady Kate Sackett stared forlornly out of the carriage as it bounced along the muddy, rutted byway outside her ancestral village in the northland. She was contemplating the brooding form of the castle built into the cliffs when a young man on horseback cantered up to her window and kept pace. He was handsome in a roguish way, the sort of rascal who would charm a more naïve woman for his own sport and be gone. “Pleasant, morning, m’ lady,” he said. “These are dangerous woods just ahead. Could I offer to ride along?” ’ ”

Heat reached out and gently laced her fingers between Rook’s, watched his breathing once more, and then returned to the book. Happy to read to him endlessly.

A chef never makes a meal alone. I learned this the hard way as a latchkey kid, bored and hungry with a craving for cherries flambé. Who knew cognac could take off like that? Or that my mother wouldn’t appreciate the irony of coming home from her triumphant Broadway performance in
Burn This
to charred walls and a disapproving hook-and-ladder crew?

Much like cuisine, you need help making a book (although there’s less risk of fire—unless you count the unfortunate book burning of one of my early Derrick Storm novels). So these pages are reserved for me to tip my big, tall, chef’s toque to the many cooks who actually improved the broth.

As ever, I am in the debt of the top professionals at the 12th Precinct who tolerate me still. Detective Kate Beckett has shown me the ropes of homicide investigation, not to mention how to make sense of songs. Her colleagues, Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan, have welcomed me like the brothers I never had. And the late Captain Roy Montgomery, to whom this book is dedicated, was a great mentor to all who worked under him and an even greater man to all who knew him.

Dr. Lanie Parish at the Office of Chief Medical Examiner has given me almost as many insights as she has eye rolls. I may be a pain in the ass sometimes, but I do like to think I break up a day when you work in a refrigerated environment.

While my thoughts are on 30th Street, let me give special thanks to Ellen Borakove, the Director of Public Affairs for the Office of Chief Medical Examiner in Manhattan, who gave generously of her time while I researched this book. She is a shining example of the compassion, dignity, and respect evident throughout the staff there. I am grateful to Ellen for all she taught me on my guided tour of the facility—especially how to breathe.

The folks in the Clinton Building at Raleigh remain my heroes. You amaze, surprise, and keep it fresh always. And Terri Edda Miller, ever by my side, thank you for choosing the title. So much better than
Heat, Heat, Heat
.

The lovely Jennifer Allen continues to teach me the secret o’ life. May it be a long lesson.

To Nathan, Stana, Seamus, Jon, Ruben, Molly, Susan, and Tamala—you remain the embodiment of dreams that come true relentlessly and tirelessly. You always bring the heat.

I have gone too long without mentioning my darling Alexis, whose every glowing, beautiful, pure, and wise moment causes me to soar with pride and to recheck the birth certificate. Yes, thankfully, she is my daughter. And let me also celebrate my mother, Martha Rodgers, who taught me that a story can be performance, that life can be art, and that the cognac goes in the pan when it’s off the burner.

Thanks to Black Pawn Publishing and, especially, to Gina Cowell for giving me the space to follow my bliss. Gretchen Young, my editor, continues to be a staunch ally and cherished colleague. A shout out to her, Elizabeth Sabo Morick, and to everyone at Hyperion for believing. Melissa Harling-Walendy and her team at
ABC
continue to make this a dream association.

My agent, Sloan Harris at
ICM
, has been in my corner since our first handshake years ago. He deserves my deepest gratitude for the unwavering support and faith he has shown.

There is an empty chair at my weekly poker game. Connelly, Lehane, and I decided to keep dealing you in, Mr. Cannell, and somehow you keep winning. As it was in life, my friend and mentor. You had me at Rockford.

Andrew Marlowe is a gift. He inspires, he guides, he creates, he performs, he simply makes it all work. How many people are you glad to hear on the other end of your phone when it rings? Andrew, for your talent, bravery, and, mostly, your friendship, thank you. And Tom, you had a hand in this one again, too. Like I said, bad things can happen when the chef’s alone in the kitchen. Thanks for working the line, braving the burners, and pulling your share of late shifts along the way.

Finally, to the fans, please know how you are admired and honored. You are the reason for it all.

RC

New York City, June 2011

Richard Castle
is the author of numerous bestsellers, including
Heat Wave, Naked Heat,
and the critically acclaimed Derrick Storm series. His first novel,
In a Hail of Bullets,
published while he was still in college, received the Nom DePlume Society’s prestigious Tom Straw Award for Mystery Literature. Castle currently lives in Manhattan with his daughter and mother, both of whom infuse his life with humor and inspiration.

Heat Wave, Naked Heat, Heat Rises,
three novels by Richard Castle

Richard Castle has generated three edgy crime dramas for beautiful, whip-smart lead detective Nikki Heat. In them all, with the help of her trusted team, Heat navigates the challenging streets of New York City, the politics of big city police work, and an evolving professional and personal relationship with investigative journalist Jameson Rook. Driven in large part by the emotional trauma of her own mother’s murder, Heat dedicates herself to her work in a way that often puts her personal safety aside so that she might find justice for the victims. But whether fighting a Russian former boxer twice her size, a grimy Texan who uses dental instruments to torture his victims, or an internationally trained sniper in Central Park, Heat relies on her training and instincts to “Assess. Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.”

1. What are the effects of Castle choosing a woman for his lead detective? How does it influence the action? What subplots result from having a heroine instead of a hero?

2. What is the importance of ego in a detective’s work? When does Heat display a strong ego and when does she seem humble or shift attention away from herself?

3. In
Naked Heat,
how does Rook’s profile of Heat in a national magazine affect her efforts to balance leadership and teamwork? In what ways does it make her job more difficult? Does it benefit her in any way?

4. Every time Nikki is about to confront a new homicide victim she takes a moment to breathe deeply and focus her attention. What are the reasons for this ritual? What effect does it have on the scene? What does it add to Heat’s character?

5. Consider Heat’s training mantra when she finds herself in a very dangerous situation: “Assess. Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.” Would this be a helpful approach to more everyday challenges, or just extreme ones?

6. Throughout the novels, Heat has a contentious professional relationship with Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Jameson Rook. Both are skilled investigators. When it comes to working a criminal case, what’s different about the approach of a detective and that of a journalist?

7. What professional skills does Rook possess that are helpful to the investigations? Do any of these skills hinder the team’s effectiveness? What professional tendencies of his seem contrary to police work?

8. Discuss what Rook’s personality brings to the stories.

9. Heat’s personal relationship with Rook is in different stages of intimacy in each of the three novels. How does each new stage affect Heat personally and professionally? In what ways is the plot of each story affected by their relationship status?

10. How does Rook’s presence affect the interaction of the team? What does it take for him to finally be accepted by them?

11. In what ways are partners Raley and Ochoa—affectionately referred to by Heat as Roach—essential to the team? How are their personalities different? What particular strengths does each possess?

12. Consider the role of humor in the daily interaction of the team. Is it simply the result of certain personalities, or is it a more important part of the job? Does it ever seem inappropriate or insensitive?

13. Roach occasionally give nicknames to victims to serve as conversational shortcuts. Heat sternly asks them not to. For a homicide detective, what seems a proper balance between impersonal objectivity and emotional respect for the victim?

14. Weather is often an important part of any story. What effect does the weather—that of a scorching summer, a cooling fall, or an icy winter—have on the mood of each novel? In what ways is it significant to the settings, scenes, or overall action of the stories?