"It's research for my new book," Castle said.
"About swimsuit models?" Beckett said casting a scornful look at the copy of Sports Illustrated Castle has tucked in his overcoat pocket.
"I think you might be jealous. Afraid I will find someone more appealing within the pages of this fine collection of art?"
"If you are into Botox, implants and anorexia, be my guest."
"There is nothing wrong with celebrating the beauty of the human body."
I'll bet if it was Alexis on those pages you would be buying up every copy in existence."
Castle scrunches his brow and makes an "O" with his mouth as he considers Beckett's argument. Next he shakes his head vigorously to exorcise the image she gave life to of his daughter posing in one of her new bathing suits she bought for Spring Break. He thinks about making a comment to Alexis when he returns that evening, although he knows how popular that would be.
"So, new case?" Castle asks eager to change the subject.
"Yes. We went to the scene without you since you were obviously occupied," Beckett announced. She retrieves a folder on the desk and opens it to a photo of a man in a tuxedo lying on his back in the grass. Two red circles frame bullet holes in his chest. The white shirt has stains of some kind, which Castle studies closely.
"His name is Doctor Blake Fraley, 46, Park Avenue. We found the body in Central Park near a jogging trail. No sign of robbery, he was still wearing his Rolex watch, gold wedding band and his wallet was full of credit cards and cash."
"What kind of doctor?" Castle asked, paging through the photographs of the crime scene.
"Plastic surgeon," Beckett replied.
"Seriously?"
Both of them survey the Sports Illustrated in Castle's overcoat, now hanging on the chair next to Beckett's desk.
Later that day they visit the practice of Doctor Fraley, Facing a Better You. Beckett turns to Castle who has a sly smile on his face as he reads the name aloud.
"'Facing a Better You'" if I put that in my book my editor would go berserk.
Inside the door they see a large wreath of flowers, clearly intended to mark the death of Doctor Fraley. While Beckett approaches the reception desk, Castle stops to smell the flowers and notices a card tucked into the arrangement. He checks to see if anyone is looking and tugs the card a bit to read the words.
'In honor of the man that taught us to face our imperfections with courage and dignity, we offer this with condolences.' Castle nods his head as he thinks about the hypocrisy of the words. Whoever sent this likely had several thousands of dollars of work done by Doctor Fraley or his associates. Castle looks at the bottom of the card to see no name or indication of who might have sent the arrangement. He flips the card to see the name of the floral shop.
Beckett is still waiting for someone at the reception desk when Castle approaches. On the wall behind is a set of pictures. Doctor Fraley is flanked by color photos of a man and a woman, which seem to be his associates.
"Hey I have heard of her," Castle says. "A friend of mine recommended her to my mother for the laugh lines around her eyes."
"You did not tell me your mom had work done," Beckett replied.
"She didn't. Alexis did some online research and showed her the picture of that celebrity whose plastic surgery went wrong and that was the end of the idea."
"She is probably better off. You know that is just an endless chase of youth."
Their conversation ended when a woman approached in a burgundy pant suit. She looked to be in her mid-40s and had some reading glasses perched on her nose that she pulled off and let hang by the chain around her neck.
"I'm Millie Michaels, the office manager. You are the detectives handling Doctor Fraley's murder?"
"Yes. I am Detective Beckett and this is Mr. Castle."
"He's not a detective?"
"No, he is a consultant."
Millie studies Castle silently for a moment before a wave of realization sweeps her face.
"I know you! You wrote the Nikki Heat books!"
Beckett rolls her eyes as Castle's fame once again interrupts her official police work.
Castle shoots her a quick look of apology before nodding to his fan.
"I know this was based on some attractive New York City detective. You wouldn't happen to be the one?" Millie asked Beckett.
"She is," Castle confirms.
"You must have chosen to describe Nikki differently, because she looks nothing like her."
"Mrs. Michaels," Castle tires to redirect her attention.
"Please, it's Millie."
"Millie, we need to ask you some questions. Is there somewhere we could talk?"
"We can go to the board room. I think I have what you will need in there."
Castle and Beckett share quizzical expressions as they follow the woman into the office suite.