It was an early Sunday morning in January when the lifeless body of a young woman slowly descended from the gray-blue sky. Attached to an orange and yellow parachute, she gently landed on the concrete steps in front of the New York District Attorney's office, softly, like a tissue might land on the floor.
Some early risers, a jogger, and a sanitation crew watched the puzzling display in silence, not knowing what to make of the strange sight before them. Cautiously, they approached the body, now covered entirely by the thin fabric. They looked at each other, still not knowing what to do, when the jogger finally pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. Together, they waited for the blue and whites to arrive at the scene.
"Do you really need six suitcases for a seven-day trip?" Castle teased his mother as she pulled on her leather gloves and matching coat.
"Oh, darling, you know I am never one to travel lightly," Martha sighed dramatically. "One never knows what she might need."
Castle picked up one of the suitcases and dropped it back down immediately. "I am pretty sure you aren't going to need the ton of bricks you packed inside this one."
Fluffing her cashmere scarf around her neck, Martha laughed. "You can never have enough shoes!"
He unzipped the bag and peered inside. "Fur-lined mountain boots? Mother, you're going to Palm Springs, not charting a course to the South Pole," he replied, zipping the bag back up.
"You never know, Richard. Remember that time when I met that marvelous man in Fiji who offered to whisk me away to Aspen for a long weekend? So charming he was … if only my traveling companion at the time had been more open-minded …"
"Klaus took you to Figi to ask you to marry him, Mother. I am sure jetting off to Aspen with Prince Akootobo was not his idea of a romantic getaway."
"Details, details, Richard," she replied lightly. "Klaus should have known better than to propose to me. Did you remember that ring? Only four karats. As if Martha Rodgers would wear a ball and chain for four karats."
Castle had to laugh—at least his mother was consistent.
"Dad, have you seen my sunglasses?" Alexis asked as she descended the stairs.
"No honey, sorry," he replied.
Alexis landed at the bottom of the stairs with one roller suitcase and a small carry-on, her face a mix of confusion and concentration.
"See, Mother?" Richard jested. "Alexis isn't taking half her wardrobe with her."
"Oh, she's still young. She doesn't need as many accoutrements to compliment her beauty. Just wait …"
"Actually, Dad, I have one more bag upstairs. Can you grab it?" she smiled, sheepishly.
"As you wish," he bowed, before ascending the stairs.
"I'm so excited about Palm Springs, Grandma. Do you think we'll see any movie stars there?"
"Found your sunglasses, sweetie!" Castle called from upstairs.
"Thanks, Dad!" she yelled back.
"Of course we will, darling. Movie stars need vacations, too." Martha said, reapplying her lipstick. "And wait until you see our hotel … the spa, the pool, the cocktails …"
"I'm only seventeen, Grandma," Alexis reminded her.
"Too young to drink them, but old enough to order them for me," Martha hinted, capping her lipstick.
"Okay, here we go," Castle said, when he reached the landing, suitcase in hand. "One pair of sunglasses, as requested," he said, holding them out to her.
"Thanks, Dad," she replied, taking them from him.
Just then the buzzer rang.
"Your car awaits, ladies," Castle said in his best butler impression.
"Are you going to be okay, Dad? A week is a long time," Alexis said, only half joking.
"I'll be fine, sweetie. You two have a wonderful time in Palm Springs. Don't worry about lonely old Dad, wasting away, dying from loneliness," he replied theatrically.
"We won't, darling. We'll simply be having too much fun!" Martha told him.
"I'll miss you, Dad," Alexis whispered into his ear, hugging him tightly.
"And I'll miss you. Please watch out for Grandma. There needs to be at least one adult chaperone on this trip."
"You can count on me," she smiled, giving him a knowing look.
The driver arrived to retrieve their bags and Castle watched them as they made their way down the hallway. Alexis turned around one last time and gave a little wave, which made his heart jump. Even for a short trip, he hated to be away from her. He smiled and waved back, blowing a kiss at her for good measure before the elevator door closed.
He walked back into the apartment and a moment of panic seized him—what was he going to do now? Then his phone rang, and he answered it instantly.
"Castle …" she said on the other line.
"It's Sunday, Beckett. Are you thinking brunch? I make a mean mimosa …" he told her, knowing she would never accept the invitation, but not able to resist asking her.
"Champagne makes me lose all of my inhibitions," she teased him.
"I'll remember that," he smiled, loving it when she played along.
"But first, get yourself over to the DA's office. We got a body."
"I didn't know the DA's office was open on Sundays," he said, puzzled.
"It's not. Just get over here and you'll see … gotta go …" she finished quickly, hanging up.
Castle grabbed his jacket and scarf, took a quick look in the mirror, ran a hand through his hair, and then left the apartment.
When Castle arrived at the scene, he ducked under the police tape and walked up the steps to where Beckett and the boys were standing around what looked to be a deflated parachute.
"Base jump gone wrong?" he asked as soon as he reached them.
"I wish it were that simple," Beckett said, kneeling down in front of the body. "What do you think, Lanie?"
"Definitely didn't die from the fall. Witnesses said the body came down real slow like, just kind of floated down, no hard impact or anything."
Working very methodically, Lanie and Beckett slowly pulled back all of the fabric until the body was completely exposed.
"See that bruising on her face? You don't get that from a parachute jump. Only fists do that," Lanie explained.
"Was she beaten to death?" Castle asked, chilled at the thought.
"Don't think so," Lanie answered, unbuttoning the girl's coat and slightly pushing her shirt open. "I'd say it's more likely those marks on her neck."
They all kneeled down to get a closer look.
"What are those circles on her throat?" Castle said.
"My guess is she was strangled, from the front. I think those are bruises from thumbs and her windpipe looks like it was crushed."
"What is that on her shoulder?" Esposito asked, taking out his notebook. "Some kind of tattoo?"
Lanie moved the fabric again, revealing a small, black tattoo of a swan at the base of her neck.
Castle gasped audibly and everyone looked at him, questioningly.
"I know her," Castle whispered.
"How? Who is she?" Beckett quizzed him.
"She's Nikki Heat," Castle replied, feeling sick to his stomach.
"Not a good time for jokes, dude," Esposito told him.
Castle looked at Esposito, with worry, not amusement, on his face. "I'm not joking. Her name is Gretta Swan. She is … was … the model for the Nikki Heat book covers. I met her at the shoot," he finished quietly.
"There's something in her mouth," Ryan said suddenly, interrupting the unsettling revelation.
Lanie grabbed her tweezers, carefully opened the girl's mouth, and removed a small piece of paper. She slowly opened it and read it, before shutting her hand around it quickly.
"What is it?" Beckett demanded. "A note from the killer?"
Lanie nodded, looking rather green, which was highly unusual. Nothing ever affected Lanie at work. Castle glanced nervously at Ryan and Esposito.
Sensing the tension, Beckett broke it. "Give it to me, Lanie," she demanded.
Swallowing hard, Lanie gave her the piece of paper. Beckett opened it and quickly read the contents. Once finished, she immediately stood up, prompting everyone around to follow her lead.
"What is it?" Ryan asked, breaking the silence.
"What does it say?" Castle asked Beckett, the concern unmasked in his voice. Beckett looked at him, wide-eyed, for a split second. Fear, he thought, but she recovered quickly and the wall came back up. She showed them the note.
This is just the dress rehearsal. Next time, it will be the real Nikki Heat.
"The real Nikki Heat …" Castle thought aloud. He looked at the boys and Lanie, who all had the same expression on their faces—shock, concern, dread. They all looked back at him. "But Nikki Heat isn't real … the only real Nikki Heat would be …"
Everyone's eyes moved to Beckett, who stood beside them stiffly, hands on hips, staring down at the body.
"Me …" she finished. Castle looked at her, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. He started to say something, but she cut him off.
"Let's get the body to autopsy and the scene processed. The killer's prints could be anywhere on that parachute, so let's be methodical here," she said calmly, stepping back and waving the processing unit over.
"Beckett, wait, are you okay…" Lanie began, touching her friend's shoulder.
"I'm fine," she replied briskly, starting to descend the steps. "Let's get back to the station …"
Castle took one last look at Lanie and the boys, imploringly, not able to find any words.
"We understand, bro," Esposito told him. "We'll get this guy."
Castle nodded quickly and then tried to catch up with Beckett.