Detective Minds and Odd Socks
Summary: Beckett learns it is impossible to keep a secret in a room full of mystery writers.
A/N: I realize that Murder, She Wrote has been established as a TV show in the Castle-verse (when it was referenced by Castle in the episode "Murder, He Wrote"), but I love both shows and couldn't resist. I also have a habit of mashing up my favorite shows based on flimsy crossover opportunities. Hoping someone will get a kick out of this.
By the way, do I have to put spoilers in the summary if Beckett's possible pregnancy wasn't even in the finale? My speculation was solely based on the "champagne conspiracy." (Frankly I don't even think she is pregnant – this is just a fluffy "what if" piece.) Also, to me this story is more of a "cameo" than a real crossover, so I'm leaving it in the main Castle category.
Kate had a lot on her mind. Her potential political career was distracting her on a night that should have been all about her husband, making her less sociable and more contemplative. This would have to change. Major life decisions could wait until the next day. That night, she would party and enjoy the company of her closest friends.
Though if Kate were paying attention, she'd register that she was also surrounded by legendary mystery authors. The awards committee had thrown a small reception for the current honoree and past winners. At the moment Kate stood across from James Patterson and Mary Higgins Clark, who chatted with each other while they picked at an antipasti platter. Both Michael Connelly and Dennis Lehane had congratulated Rick, said hello to her, then moved on to greet the rest of their friends. Kate wondered if a reunion poker game would be in the works by the end of the night.
As for her husband, he was deep in conversation with an older gentleman she didn't recognize. The term "silver fox" popped into her thoughts. He had to be at least eighty, but she could tell he must have been a catch in his younger years.
"Excuse me, Kate Castle?"
Startled by the unfamiliar elderly voice, not to mention the strange term of address, Kate turned to see renowned mystery writer Jessica Fletcher standing next to her. Starstruck nerves froze Kate for a second while she processed this meeting. The writer had been a favorite of hers during her teen years, influencing her choice to pick up a Derrick Storm novel later on. Of course her husband became friends with "J.B. Fletcher" way back when he began publishing his first books. Referring to Jessica as his "honorary grandmother," Rick had insisted on inviting her to the Hamptons wedding. Kate never dreamed of protesting since she'd get to meet her second favorite mystery novelist.
Finding her voice, Kate replied, "M-Mrs. Fletcher, it's so great to finally meet you. I've been a fan of your work for years."
"Thank you, but please, it's Jessica. After all we're practically related," the writer joked.
They hugged in greeting, then Kate said, "I meant to thank you for coming to the Hamptons for the wedding, Jessica. Martha told me you got there early."
Jessica nodded sadly. "Yes, she and I talked quite a bit that day, and when I called the loft during his disappearance. Tell me, was there ever any closure? The media has not reported any findings in the last few months."
The innocent question made Kate pause. She supposed it was due to Rick, who affectionately described Jessica as a "well-meaning busybody." Wary Kate kept her answer simple just to be cautious. "In a way," she said. "We've...learned to accept the circumstances. We might never know the whole story, so we're happy to put it behind us."
"Very wise of you both," she said, patting Kate's hand. "After all, I'm sure there's plenty to look forward to in the future." She gave Kate a wry smile. "Perhaps in the near future."
Jessica's accusatory tone bewildered her. How did this family acquaintance know about Kate's career plans? "I'm sorry but I don't follow," Kate replied. Subconsciously her hand moved to cover her stomach. This had been happening for the past week or so, ever since...
"Dear, don't make it so obvious," Jessica teased. "After all, I'm guessing you haven't quite yet told your husband that you have a bun in the oven."
Oh, my God. Kate's eyes widened as she instantly removed the tell-tale hand from her stomach. How...how did she... "W-where did you hear that from?" Kate asked, her face blushing from panic as she tried to squelch the rumor. "Jessica, if someone said I was pregnant, it was only their speculation." That much was true at least.
Amused, Jessica explained, "I heard it from you, Kate. Anyone observing your actions at this party would hear it loud and clear."
"I wasn't aware I was being observed?" The statement came out as a question when Kate's voice kicked up an octave. The more this woman spoke, the more paranoid she became. What could have possibly given her away in less than the half hour she'd been there?
"While you are the only official detective, everyone here has a detective mind," Jessica clarified. "This means we are always observing. For instance, I noticed right away that you were refusing alcohol. As the guest of honor's wife, servers have been approaching you every few minutes, offering to get you a drink. You've turned one down every time." She smirked mischievously. "That certainly qualifies as an 'odd sock' in a room full of writers."
Kate did a double-take at the descriptive phrase. "'Odd sock'?"
"Naturally I've read all of your husband's 'Nikki Heat' series," Jessica explained. She then added, "Kate, it pleases me that Rick has finally married a woman he not only loves, but also respects with all of his heart."
Flattered, Kate said "thank you" before steering the conversation back on course. "With all due respect Jessica, basing this conclusion on my beverage preference alone is a leap. There are plenty of explanations to debunk your theory. While I admire your famous attention to detail, in this case, there needs to be a little more." She hesitated at the unexpected wave of deja vu. In that moment, she understood why Rick and Jessica were so close.
"Maybe not," Jessica conceded. "But there was one other clue."
Kate raised an eyebrow. "There was?"
The old author could barely contain a smile. "You haven't denied it once during our entire conversation." Leaving Kate to ponder that, Jessica winked knowingly before moving on to other reception guests.
Unnerved, Kate decided to pretend the incident never happened as she went over to Rick. The "silver fox" she'd seen earlier was just leaving. "Who was that, babe?" she asked, hugging him for comfort.
"J.B. Fletcher's 'significant other,'" Rick explained with a chuckle. "His name is Michael Hagarty. Cool guy, really into spy thrillers. He likes my Derrick Storm series."
Kate hugged him again, and they stood there for a few minutes while the party happened around them. This would be their last few minutes of 'solitude' before the dinner began. Already servers were taking away the food trays and clearing empty glasses. "I met Jessica," she said quietly, glancing up at him with her arms around his waist. "She's...something."
"Isn't she great?" Rick's hero worship caused him to miss the anxiety in her voice. "She's almost ninety but you'd never know it. I don't think I ever mentioned this, but back in the day she led an amazing life, even compared to mine. You know she was an amateur detective?"
"Really?"
Nodding, Rick answered, "Yeah. Rumor has it she solved dozens of murder cases. It's where she got the inspiration for her books."
Intrigued by the information, Kate remembered what Jessica said about having a "detective mind." She hadn't been speaking figuratively...at least, not about herself. "Hmm..." she said, grinning at her husband. "A writer being inspired by cases. That sounds awfully familiar."
"Not really," Rick joked. He whispered in her ear as they began to leave the party room. "I was always inspired by you."