Cat and Mouse
This is my angst version of The Gambit, and Tyson and Nieman are back with a vengeance. I'm sure the writers aren't going to do this based on the spoiler pictures I've seen (and I do look and read), but the plot bunnies grabbed ahold and won't let go.
Author's Notes: So the really cool thing about fan fic is that I can write 2 different versions of my story – a more humorous one (The Gambit) and the angst-filled one (Cat and Mouse). So thanks for indulging me and the stories start out basically the same with some tweaks. Rated T for language and violence.
All characters belong to Andrew Marlowe, ABC, and Disney. Just playing with them and you.
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Chapter 1 – The Return
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Three months ago…
Paul Dyson looked the flyer he had taken from the bulletin board at the café he worked at as he waited in the lobby of the casting office. The opportunity seemed good – a travel agency was putting on a "Death on the High Seas" cruise and needed actors who looked like famous mystery writers. And people kept telling him that he looked enough like Richard Castle so why not put that to use again?
Of course, the first time didn't turn out so well. The police hadn't told him why they were looking for the producer of the show, but he assumed it had something to do with embezzlement since the production company had folded rather quickly. But that's what happened in the business.
And he really did need the cash since his car had been stolen earlier in the month and the insurance company had only given him a mere pittance for finding a replacement.
He looked up as the door opened and a woman stepped out.
"Mr. Dyson?" she asked.
Smiling, Dyson stood and walked into her office.
"And you are applying for…?" she asked as she looked at her clipboard.
"Castle – Richard Castle," Dyson said.
"Hmmm," the woman vocalized as she studied him. "Please turn around," she said, indicating a circle with the pen she held in her hand.
He did as she requested and then stopped, facing her again.
She pursed her lips as she looked at him and then slowly shook her head. "Sorry, there is some resemblance, but…"
"I could dye my hair darker," Dyson said. "Maybe wear sun glasses? It is a cruise…"
The woman shrugged. "Well, you are the right height and weight." She tapped the pen to her lips several times as she thought. "And you are the closest I've seen today. Please, have a seat," she said, motioning to the chair across from the desk.
They sat down and she held up an 8x10 glossy of Castle and studied the two faces again. "You know, if you were willing to have some minor work done, you'd be perfect."
Dyson frowned slightly at her suggestion.
"Which of course, the travel agency would pay for, so there would be no expense on your part," the woman continued. "And they've had such good response to the cruise already that they've planned several more."
She looked down at the paperwork. "They require that you learn the role of 'Richard Castle' before the cruise starts and will pay housing and expenses during that time – sort of like being in a play."
She looked up at him and smiled. "So can I count you in, Mr. Dyson."
Dyson grinned. "Sure, why not?"
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Present day…
Even though Castle hadn't had a lot of clients up to this point, Black Pawn was having a field day spinning press on his PI business and had booked him on the spur of the moment to speak about his new endeavor at the local mystery writers' conference.
He had almost cancelled the engagement when Beckett had come home late last night, looking pale and drawn. She had left early that morning after getting a message about a body drop and he had spent the day putting finishing touches on his presentation, aptly titled 'Talking the Talk, Walking the Walk'.
He finally coaxed the reason out of her and it sent chills down his spine.
A young woman, Adrianne Flowers, had been murdered, found by her roommate who had just returned from a business trip. She was young, blonde, lying peacefully in bed, a 3-ply green and white cord wrapped around her neck.
Lanie estimated that the TOD had been about 48 hours before the call came in, the roommate's return having been delayed by 36 hours due to inclement weather.
Ryan had gone through the video feed from the building and a cable repairman had been in the building, even though no one had called in for service.
Was it the real deal or was it just another crazy disciple?
The team wasn't sure and Castle didn't like being separated from Beckett during this time. He knew that Ryan and Espo would have her back, but he didn't like it none-the-less.
So, now, he wasn't sure how he had let Paula and Gina talk him into staying to sign books after his presentation (which had been very well received) and they had graciously given him a 15-minute bio-break which he desperately needed after drinking several cups of coffee that morning because he hadn't slept well after Beckett's news.
He quickly finished, tucked himself in, and was washing his hands in the bathroom sink when his phone rang. He quickly walked out of the room while he answered it.
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Beckett looked at her phone – Castle had promised to text her when he finished his speech but she hadn't heard from him yet – and then looked at the murder board, hoping that something would jump out at her.
The only pictures they had of the cable repairman were from the back, but they were the right height. The weight was about the same too, but then, they only had their memories to go by since all of the evidence on 3XK had been stolen last year.
The van that the fake repairmen had used had been stolen an hour before the estimated TOD and had been wiped clean.
It was going to be another long day and she quickly texted Castle a message, saying that she wouldn't be able to meet him for lunch. Just after she sent the message, she received a text from Castle saying that something had come up and he wouldn't be able to meet her for lunch after all.
Great minds think alike, she thought as she texted him back that she would see him at home that evening. Home, she thought with a slight smile she quickly hid – she still got that warm, tingly feeling when she thought about how the loft was now her home.
Beckett stared at the murder board again and then glanced over her shoulder as the elevator opened and DA Cummins walked out, heading at a brisk clip for Gates' office and then shutting the door behind herself as she entered.
1PP was on pins and needles about this case since they had declared Tyson dead after that night on the bridge – their credibility would take a hit if he really was alive and creating havoc again.
Gates opened her door a few moments later and stepped out into the bullpen, DA Cummins behind her. Neither was in a good mood based on the expressions on their faces.
"Detective Ryan, did you call the DA this morning to tell her that we had new evidence in the case?" Gates asked brusquely, staring at the detective.
Espo swiveled his chair to look at his partner.
"No," Ryan answered, shaking his head. "I didn't. I've been running surveillance video all morning."
Gates looked at Cummins who pulled out her phone.
"Here – he left a voice mail," said Cummins as she replayed the call and put it on speaker phone.
"Ms. Cummins, this is Detective Kevin Ryan at the 12th. We've got new evidence on the Flowers murder that will break the case wide open. Can you come to the precinct immediately?" the man said with a slight Irish accent.
They all frowned at the message and Beckett pressed her lips together. She had heard that accent before – repeatedly on St. Patrick's Day. She hated to narc on him, but she had to.
"That's Castle," Beckett said quietly. "I recognize the accent."
"Then get him on the phone and find out what the hell he's playing at," barked Gates.
"Yes, sir," said Beckett as she started to dial Castle's number, only to be interrupted as her phone chirped with his ringtone.
She thumped it on and the screen came to life – so they would be video-chatting. "Next best thing to being face-to-face," Castle had once quipped miserably when they were living hundreds of miles apart and missing each other.
"Kate, got a minute?" Castle asked quickly.
"Actually I was just calling you," Beckett said tersely. She started before he could interrupt her. "Castle, did you talk to DA Cummins about the case this morning?"
"Yes, I did," Castle replied, looking slightly amazed that Beckett had found out so quickly.
Beckett closed her eyes, a pained expression on her face. "Castle," she breathed softly.
"While I was at the conference, she called me to ask me to help with the case," Castle continued. "In fact, she's here with me now." He swiveled the phone around so that Beckett could see the DA in the screen and then swiveled the phone back in his direction. "She said I needed to call you because you had made a breakthrough in the case."
Beckett frowned at the phone and then looked at the Cummins who was standing beside Gates.
"Castle, Cummins is here at the precinct," she said.
"No, she isn't – she's here – oh, sh—"
His words were cut off as two shots rang out and the video on the screen turned wildly as the phone tumbled to the ground.
"Castle!" Beckett screamed into the phone.
There was a pause and then a voice came on the phone. "Sorry – he's a little busy dying right now. Jerry Tyson and Kelly Nieman send their condolences. And thanks for your help, Ms. Cummins – we couldn't have done it without you."
After that the line went dead.
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