Chapter One
"Kate is dead"
"Kate is dead"
"Kate Beckett is dead"
Castle found that he kept repeating that sad mantra in his head over and over as he walked the midnight streets of Manhattan. With each repetition, his expression became grimmer while tears streaked down his unshaven face. His shoulders slumped, he monotonously placed one foot in front of the other, eating away the hours and the miles. Each day he repeated the pattern. Each night seemed worse than the one before.
Today was Wednesday, three days after Kate's shooting. Today he had attended her funeral. Afterwards, Castle felt used up, washed up. He didn't want to write or talk or even work on the investigation. He was done and looked it.
Returning to the loft, he packed a suitcase, left a note for Martha and Alexis, and swiftly walked to his car. As he spun out of the garage, heading for the Hamptons, cold blue eyes followed his every move through a pair of night vision binoculars. When the car was out of sight, the watcher pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial.
"As you asked, I've been watching Castle since Monday. There's nothing left. He's done for. He's not a threat. Do you still want me to deal with him?"
The voice on the phone spoke briefly, then the watcher hit end, put the phone away, and headed back to his hotel room. Castle was no longer in play.