The Nightcaller
Story by Madreag
I'm giving you a nightcall to tell you how I feel
I'm gonna drive you through the night down the hills
I'm gonna tell you something you don't want to hear
I'm gonna show you where it's dumped but have no fear
There's something inside you
It's hard to explain
There's something inside you, boy
And you're still the same
Written by Belorgey, Vincent Pierre Claude / Christo, Guy Manuel Homem
Preformed by London Grammer on If You Wait (2013)
Prologue
Cinderella's Ball
They sat and listened to him. By many standards he was the eminent modern-day philosopher. He would scoff at such talk, dismissing it as mere nonsense. He was an old man with an audience of young men. He both envied and pitied them. They had so many days ahead, time was a luxury to them. But in those many days would be many difficulties. Like a man who sits to write a simple story, where his tale begins, and ends, is like life, full of surprises. Each will find the truth, that we are masters of nothing.
"Sir, are you saying, find the right one or you're up a creek?
He smiled at the question, "Precisely! The most difficult task before you is not finding the right career, or picking the right company to build, or whom to work for, or how much money you earn, save or invest. Your most difficult task is finding her. Do that and you will have a life and then, everything else will fall in place. Miss her and it is, what the ancient writer said? "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity."
A voice from the back, "That's a bit harsh isn't it? And not very fair."
"Who said anything about fair! This is far to important for that notion."
XX
Richard Castle hated doing these things alone. Sure he may owe the Mayor, but it seemed like he owed everyone something. The 'Gala Events' were tiring to him. He laughed to himself, he'd rather play laser tag with Alexis, but that wasn't happening, not with her living in a dorm. He'd promised to be there, and so he would.
As he looked through his closet, the clear choice was black. He wasn't 25, and could never dress like Tom Wolfe. In fact he had been twice the size of Wolfe when he was twelve years old, so a simple black tux would do.
He made himself another promise, he would not do the front door thing. The greeting, handshakes, hugs and what-have-you-been-up-to-dance, that was always played out before a legion of cameras. He'd been up to writing, just not with much success. He did not want to answer the, "When's your next book coming out?" question, at least not more than a thousand times. Because in truth, he had no idea. It was still stuck in his head, someplace.
He knew of a service elevator that would drop him at the back of the crowd. He could at least start the mingling on his own terms. Find someone he knew, chat, and then do a couple of laps and head for the door.
He had no idea what lay before him.
XX
She could see her shadow, hear her breathing. Captain Victoria Gates stood over her best detective. "Detective Beckett, What! Are you still doing here?"
"Sir, I'm just doing some paper work I have to get done today." She presented a sour look to go along with her task.
"Detective, maybe I didn't make myself clear earlier?" Her voice growing more stern.
"No sir, you were very clear."
"Then answer me this, what are you still here?"
"Like I said sir..." The Captains hand swung up, ending any further comment.
"Detective, I'm walking back to the office to lock the door. When I return, I better, let me emphasis this, not see a trace of you. Am I making myself clear?"
"Perfectly, sir!"
"And Detective, I better see you within the next 90 minutes, looking your best on behalf of this Precinct."
"Yes sir."
XX
Kate Beckett-Sorenson hated these things. She didn't like them when Will was with her, and she liked them less alone. She could not grasp why she had to dress to the nines to go to such stupid events. She seriously doubted it helped the Precinct at all, the only one it helped was the Mayor.
As she ran into her apartment, it dawned on her she had broken a number of laws just getting from the police station to her place. She laughed, that was just so wrong. And then she was greeted at her closet door was the, "What shall I wear dilemma?"
In the end she gobbled down a nearly expired yogurt for dinner, took a shower, and picked the safe option, simple but elegant.
XX
He made his way to the service elevator, pushed the up bottom and waited. He had thought he was at the lowest level in the garage so it should be there immediately. It wasn't, he saw from the indicator there were two floors below him. He feared he was loosing his grip.
The bell pinged and the doors opened. He stood frozen for a moment, his eyes stuck on the woman standing alone in the car. She was beautiful, and he couldn't get his feet to move.
"Are you getting in or what?" She barked at him, in a how-stupid-can-you-be tone.
"Yeah, sorry." He thought, beautiful but cranky. He stepped in, started to push the 14th floor button, but it was all ready lit. He stood on the opposite side of the car and watched the indicator, he said nothing.
The car was filled with the smell of cherries and something. It was wonderful, he closed his eyes for second and just breathed her in. He silently said to himself, "I think I'm love," and then, "I don't do love."
The car rose two floors and stopped. The doors opened and a man stood with his back to them. He was barking at someone ,"What part of, this crap was suppose be up there 20 minutes ago, don't you idiots get! They're hors devours, get it, before the food. Now go!"
He spun on his heels and looked at Castle, "Buddy get your lady friend over. We have two rolling cabinets coming in and she's about to be crushed."
"Madam," he indicated to the spot in front of him and pushed himself back into the corner. She stepped over quickly. Within seconds two large cabinets were rolled onto the elevator, followed by four young men dressed in white service uniforms.
They crowded into Beckett's spot without even looking at her. She stepped back into Castle, her heel landing on his left shoe. He groaned and she quickly moved her foot and placed it between his legs. The crowd of waiters pushed more against her and she in turn against Castle.
Kate Beckett thought to herself, "So how shall I tell Lanie I practically laid on top of Richard Castle tonight, albeit while standing-up". She was not entirely nonplussed by the experience. She wondered what her Mother would have thought about such an encounter, with her favorite author no less. The thought brought both a smile and a sigh, she missed her so. She shook at the thought, and felt herself shutter over the old wound.
"Are you OK? Sorry there's no more space." His voice was kind and filled with concern.
She turned her head but could not make eye contact. They were pressed to tight. "Fine, thank you." She was surprised at the contrast between, what she had guessed about this well known author, and the actual man now standing behind her.
When the doors opened on the 14th floor the frantic waiters, along with the carts almost exploded into the hall way. She felt his hand move to steady her as she moved one foot forward so she would be fully up right and could walk out.
They stepped out of the elevator and made their way towards the roar in the main room. As they entered someone yelled "Ricky" stretching out the 'y'. He smiled, but sighed. He turned to look at her, she was staring at him for his response, sensing he was taking a moment to prepare himself. He ended their brief encounter with, "Have a good evening," and headed into the crowd.
While he mingled and said hello to a number of friends and acquaintances, he decided the elevator ride, would probably be the best part of the night.
A few minutes later someone called, "Hey Rick!" He turned to see the Mayor smiling and waving him over. He was standing with a tall, thin African-American woman, and beside her, the beauty from the elevator.
The Mayor shook his hand then gave him a shoulder hug. "Rick, I'd like you to meet Captain Victoria Gates of the 12th Precinct and one of her best Detectives, Kate Beckett. Ladies this is Richard Castle."
Castle smiled and extended his hand, "Captain Gates it's a pleasure," and then to Beckett, "Detective Beckett nice to meet you." As he shook the Detectives hand he was momentarily lost in her emerald green eyes. He realized as he stared at her that he'd failed to let go of her hand. Beckett wiggled her fingers, reminding him to let go.
In a friendly voice she added, " It's nice to meet you Mr. Castle."
"Thank you." He shifted his focused to the Mayor, "Sir this looks like a big success, hope it goes as planned for you tonight."
"Thanks," the Mayor's eyes continuously scanned the crowd and then stopped now face to face with Castle, "Rick you can help it be a bigger success." Castle waited and the Mayor turned to the women, "Detective Beckett, would you two do me a favor? That dance floor is pathetically empty, and what's the saying? 'nature hates a void', and so do I. Would you two go out there and dance, a couple of numbers, smile, and I'll be in your debt?"
Before they could speak the Mayor continued, "Sorry folks I see someone I need to talk to, gotta go. Again, enjoy the evening and thanks for your help."
It was now just the three of them, and the Capitan wasted no time. "Mr. Castle, sounds like you and my Detective have a brief assignment, but before you go, you're the Derrick Storm author, correct?" Castle nodded, "I've read a couple of your books. So, when can we expect your next best seller?" Gates waited with a smile.
"Soon Captain, soon." smiling at the two women. He then looked to Beckett, "Detective are you willing to do the Mayor's bidding?" Extending his arm to her, which she took it and accompanied him to the dance floor.
The small orchestra began with a lush version of Moon River, after a few introductory bars one of the younger members stood at the mike and played a soulful harmonica version of the famous song. Castle and Beckett floated through the waltz. The roar in the room lessened and almost every eye was on them. The floor was a pale blue and the lighting made it appear as if they were floating.
Off to one side the Mayor beamed, thinking this was more than he had hoped for when he asked them to help. Gina Cowell, Castle's agent, watched with the rest of the crowd. She had no idea who the woman was, and didn't care, she was just delighted that her best author was the center of attention.
Castle and Beckett had for all practical purposes left the building. They were lost in a moment neither expected. A serenity settled on the couple as they glided across the empty floor. Both were oblivious to the numerous people standing near watching and envying the couple as they moved in nearly perfect sync to both the music and each other.
Castle was uncharacteristically quiet, his face covered in a content, warm smile. His focus was on the lines of his partners face and her deep green eyes. So too Beckett was lost in the moment. She was surprised at the ease and comfort she felt in this simple dance. She felt secure in his embrace and momentarily was not even sure where they were as she stared at his face and blue eyes.
After the music stopped, they continued the dance for a few seconds longer, then suddenly realized the music had ended. They stopped and separated but Castle with arms extended held her hands, "Thank you Detective Beckett for...an incredible dance."
"Thank you Mr. Castle." She beamed back, unable to hide her delight.
"You dance well Detective."
"Thank you, I did some modeling when I was young, as well as dance and ballet..." She stopped, why was she telling him her life story? And why was she was babbling?
As the next song began, he reached for her, "You would still make a beautiful model!" She immediately blushed, but he pulled her close and they continued to dance. The floor around them filling with couples, no doubt seeking the magic they had just witnessed.
For the third dance the orchestra leader chose, Beautiful Tonight, by Eric Clayton. Again Castle pulled her close but this time feared she'd hear his heart thumping. He wondered what in the world was going on, and who was this woman. He could smell the fragrances of perfume and shampoo mixing, it was like a drug. But all he was hoping was that the song would never end so he wouldn't have to let go.
Beckett could not believe the final song. Her father had loved it and told her it always reminded her of her mother. Every time she heard it she thought of them and their great love for each other. It made her believe in the hope of loves power. She found herself swamped in melancholy. She clung to this strange writer. Again as with Moon River she relished the arms about her. When she was ordered to attend she never dreamed she would find herself in the role of Cinderella, it made her smile.
When the dance ended Castle was breathless and fumbled for words, finally he said, "We should do this again." She just smiled.
As they walked off the floor he asked why she'd become a Detective. She said she found it very challenging, "You know Mr. Writer, following the clues, seeing behind the obvious." She went on a little about her desire to get justice those for whose lives had been cut short.
"Certainly not the answer I expected Detective, some day I'd like to pick your brain."
"Couldn't resist a chance to pick-up a girl Mr. Castle?"
He just laughed, "It wasn't a pass, I've given up on love." She felt a stab of pain at the causal confession. She knew the feeling.
She then added, "I think we've helped the Mayor," extending her hand to the now full dance floor.
"Detective, I'd dance the rest of the night with you, if you're so inclined?"
"Mr. Castle, I've monopolized enough of your evening, go see your fans." She smiled and slipped into the crowd.
After the dancing he visited and mingled. He meant it, he would have danced all night with the cop, she was not only beautiful but mesmerizing. He was heading to the nearest bar, thinking about dancing and lying, he smiled to himself, he had just danced with the most beautiful woman at the event, and lied to her Captain, great. He figured he was safe from arrest, his defense would be literary license. As he stood waiting to get a drink he felt someone bump into his elbow. He turned to see the green eyed Detective.
"Well, my dance partner" He lifted his glass to her.
She ignored his comment, "By the way, do you really have a book coming out? Because it seemed to me, you we're slinging it my boss." Before he could respond the bartender appeared, she waived her hand to get his attention, "Can I have a Macallan on the rocks?"
"Tell me you didn't come to arrest me, especially after not stepping on your toes?" She smiled warmly at his comment. "On the book! I've got nothing, plus I hate that question." His face went serious, "People don't understand, stories don't just jump onto the paper, your boss sounded like my agent."
His mood shift concerned her, clearly this was a topic that was raw for him, "Not going to arrest you tonight, Mr. Castle, maybe another time."
"Well tonights about done, I'm about to, Slip out the back Jack." Castle smiled weakly.
"So you're a real party animal?" The bartender handed her the drink.
As he turned to walk away,he looked over his shoulder, "Not me, I'm off to hide from you and your boss."
XX
Over the next hour, Castle ran into the Mayor twice, he was still elated with the boost Castle and Beckett's dancing had given the party. The dance floor was still brimming. "Rick, you and the cop, you two are magic."He just smiled, and thought to himself, 'my work here is done, now I can safely slip away.'
He'd seen his agent Gina, she was also ecstatic, except for the missing date. But she liked the dancing with the tall dark-haired woman. Where were the camera's when she needed them? She wanted some paper splash, page six stuff, but he'd resisted.
Castle would be the first to admit, he'd been in a slump, ever since he and his friend had been in the grisly encounter, he just hadn't been himself. But now there was a new twist, for the first time in his life he was struggling with sleep. The combination had been hard to deal with, still Gina wanted theater along with a dashing playboy, there had been several discussion, but in the end, he told her that for now it was beyond him.
He slipped through the crowd, making his way to the rear of the large room, and then his escape. When he finally got to the back hall and its elevator, he reached for the button, but before he could reach it a voice said, "What floor?" He didn't even look over.
Still facing the doors, he spoke to the metal, "Detective Beckett, I think you know what floor. Are you stalking me?" He turned an smiled.
"I promise, I'm not stalking you. I might shoot, but I would not stalk you."
"So is that some kind of cop pick-up line?"
"The only thing I want to pick up, is these shoes, my feet are killing me." She grimaced.
She stepped out of the shoes as soon as the doors to the elevator closed. Before she could move, he reached down and picked them up, placing them behind his back.
"You do not need to carry my shoes Mr. Castle."
"Just being a gentlemen." He smiled at her, "I left my cape at home so, I can't throw it in a puddle for you." Bowing slightly.
He now looked down at her. She glared, "I need my shoes!"
"You know, you're not near as menacing when you're not ten feet tall. I will return them by the end of the ride."
She rolled her eyes, but said nothing.
When the car stopped he handed her one shoe. " Ah...Mr. Castle there were two."
"I was hoping you let me keep one, just in case I ever needed to find a princess."
"No, that's not going to work for me." She looked at him with the best serious glare she could muster. How could she be enjoying such foolish banter.
"You don't need to glare at me! You've already threatened to shoot me, as well as a possible arrest." He handed her the shoe and held up his hands.
He stepped off the elevator, "Hope you catch all the crooks." He turned and headed towards his car.
"Hey Castle!" He turned and looked back at her, "Good luck on your next book."
XX
As she let herself into her empty apartment she wondered why she had been so hard on the writer. He didn't try to hit on her, didn't spin any BS lines her way. He'd only been a gentleman. She on the other hand had given him grief at every turn. She found delight in goading him, then she reconsidered, she should of given him the shoe. No one had ever asked for her shoe or called her a princess, except for her Dad.
She decided she might do some follow-up with the writer. Buy him coffee maybe and give him some more trouble. She smiled to herself, thinking she wasn't that sorry for the grief, it had been a great evening.
XX
The party had been more pleasant than he expected. He was still thinking about the Detective, who clearly didn't care for writers, or maybe just him. But he'd enjoyed the interaction. It had been months since he even talked playfully with a woman. Gina and he had gone on a couple of dates, but there was simply no fire. He knew she was more interested in his public persona rather than him. He didn't feel the Detective cared in the least about the public stuff.
Just before heading to bed, he Googled Detective Beckett. She was 36 years old, married to an FBI agent named Will Sorenson. Her full name was Kathrine Beckett-Sorenson. There were a several picture of the couple, but none for the last year or so. He thought again about how beautiful she was, and if she was his wife, she wouldn't be going to parties alone.
As he turned out the lights he said to the ceiling, " A good life to you Mrs. Sorenson."
XX
Six Months Later
Richard Castle sat in the back of the court room, his testimony long over. He was glad he was only a witness, but his friend was still being grilled for that he was sorry.
Dr. Martin Strait was a respected psychiatrist who was being sued by both the victim's and the patient's families. Each arguing the doctor had breached his duty. To the patient they argued he should have known and intervened, to the victim he owed the duty to warn.
Castle had met Strait years ago at a fund-raiser. He liked the doctor and the two had become friends. Castle was working on his 10th book in the Derek Storm series. The thrill was gone. He felt like he was scraping the bottom of the bucket, fresh out of ideas. He wanted to create a sinister culprit. He had done lots of reading but needed some first hand assistance on the treatment of the criminal mind. He contacted Strait who agreed to help if he could. He told Castle that patient privilege was essential and he was duty bound to honor anything his patients shared with him. Still he could discuss the practice as well as cases he'd studied or been asked to advise on. Castle hoped it would help him out of his writing slump.
He and Dr. Strait had met on a number of occasions, normally in mid-town which was mid-way between Castle's loft and the doctors office.
The men had met for lunch to continue their discussion. Neither could have guessed what mayhem was about to take place. As they exited the restaurant one of the doctors patients encountered a young woman, it would later be determined she was an ex-girlfriend who found the man too volatile and had broke off the relationship. She wanted him to stay away. As they argued briefly the man pulled a gun and shot her in the face. Castle and Strait were so enough that they were covered with blood and bone. Strait was momentarily stunned but recovered and called out to the his patient, who simply looked at the doctor, smiled, then stuck the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
After the shootings the law suits began. Every lawyer and doctor knows the name Tarasoff and the story behind the now famous case. Tatianna Tarasoff had been stalked and murdered by a man who was enamored with her. A doctor named Moore, had been treating Mr. Poddar and when he feared what his patient might do he contacted the police expressing his concerns for his client and his intent to possibly harm Ms. Tarasoff. However he did not contact the Tarasoff family. Ultimately the Supreme Court of California found he had breached his duty when he failed to contact the family of the woman.
Martin Strait now found himself on both ends of the sword. In this case the parents of the assailant sued him claiming he should have taken more intrusive measures to stop their son. They believed he should have know the extent of their sons homicidal tendencies.
The parents of the murdered girl made the legal argument that he had a duty to warn them, as set forth in New Yorks equivalent of the Tarasoff case.
It had been eight months since the shooting. But now Castle had his own issues. While he had written a number of books on murder, he'd never been a witness to one. More than just seeing the gruesome events he had ended up covered in blood. As the months wore on his sleep had been increasingly invaded by the scene. Over and over he would wake up as the murder played out. Each time he tried to stop the events, but could never do so. Just when there was some improvement the legal actions began.
The trial had lit up a new round of nightmares. His sleep cycle was decimated and now if he could sleep two hours at a time, it was a good night.
XX
The trial had ended with the doctor being found civilly liable to both families. While he had good insurance it was not sufficient. He was forced to sell his primary residence and a vacation home. He and his wife moved into a small home outside the City. The doctor rode the subway to work and struggled to make ends meet.
Following the trial Castle had sought new medical treatment for his sleep disorder The various sleep aids had failed, along with sleep therapy and acupuncture. Finally he was prescribed a combination of medications, Zolpidem and Lorazepam. Because of Castle's height and weight he was given 20 mg of the Zolpidem and the maximum 2 mg of Lorazepam, the medications had not been that successful.
On August the 3rd, he had taken the medication as prescribed but slept for only three hours. He was staying at his home in the Hampton's at the time. At 4 am he repeated the dose of both medications, hoping for some rest.
He slept on and off, and awoke at 7:30 am, feeling groggy. After fussing for another couple of hours he showered and decided to go to a small café not far from his house. He wanted breakfast, and lots of coffee.
At 9:55 am a call came into the East Hampton's Police Department, there had been a single vehicle accident. Car versus tree, the driver was believed to be dead.
Tuesday, August 3, 2015, started as a normal day for most people, but for two residences of Manhattan, it would be the day that would forever change their lives.
AN - This story was inspired partly by London Grammers song, along with the some other ideas. The characters are not meant to be canon based, but near. Thus far there are 21 chapters, which I started early this year. Appericate comments and thoughts.
