Beckett strode out of the interrogation room, a woman on a mission. Castle was nowhere in sight, which probably meant he was cowering in the observation room. No matter. She needed time alone to write the extra questions for him. She'd been pleasantly surprised when the representative had agreed to have the examiner test him. Her suggestion had essentially been a bluff. As it turned out, however, the rep was a 'let the punishment fit the crime' sort of person who had no problem giving Castle a taste of his own medicine.
Kate cast a glance around the bullpen. Ryan and Esposito were at their desks wearing matching disgruntled looks. Well, from what she could see of their faces, anyway. They seemed to be studiously avoiding her gaze. If they possessed ANY self-preservation instinct they would stay far away from her, but since she had a niggling feeling that they'd been in cahoots with Castle, she opted to get away from prying eyes, all the while seeking out her own ally to help plot her revenge.
Lanie looked up in surprise when she entered the morgue. "Hey, girl. Man troubles? I know this visit isn't case related."
"Not directly," Kate hedged. Lanie's raised eyebrow prompted her to continue. "I just mean the boys are lucky I controlled my temper, or at least one of them would be on your table right now." She went on to recount her polygraph experience.
"So…how many details are you planning to get out of this?"
"As many as I can. He OWES me. Now that I think about it, the dastardly duo does, too. I'll have to think of a good way to torture them, as well…"
"I'll be happy to help any way I can," Lanie replied with a grin. "Now, onto our current mission. What did you have in mind? And don't tell me 'nothing' because you wouldn't have proposed this if you didn't want to get SOME sort of juicy truth out of him."
"Well, I am still pretty curious about where his fascination with murder comes from…"
"Right, and then there's the matter of the two ex-wives,"
"I don't know, Lanie. That's not really my business."
"Isn't it? We'd just gotten finished talking about how he wasn't the guy with the arm candy anymore, and then he shows up with the blonde. Maybe that deserves a conversation about his history."
"Hard to have a conversation when he's limited to yes or no."
Lanie waved her hand dismissively. "Two smart women like us? We'll figure it out. Now," she said, her eyes glittering. "Are you going to try and find out his number?"
"Probably not. He was all too willing to volunteer it. I wouldn't be surprised if he had to order a new headboard because he ran out of room for the notches on the first one."
"Maybe," Lanie said slowly. "Or…maybe he was eager to tell you because the number is lower than you think, and he's not as much of a scoundrel as the tabloids would have us believe. Those two marriages had to put the damper on the tally somewhat, too. I wonder if he counts his ex-wives as one each or two each…"
Kate glared at Lanie. She didn't particularly enjoy being reminded of his encounters with Meredith and Gina. "Tick tock," she snapped. "Let's get some of these questions written before Gates starts calling looking for me." The two women batted ideas and phrasing back and forth until Kate was satisfied with the results. Promising lunch complete with a full report as thanks for her help, the detective sauntered out to her car.
Since Castle didn't have an actual NYPD email account, his appointment was delivered care of Kate's inbox. She had just sent the questions to the examiner, who would access them on her smart phone.
Rick had STILL not made an appearance, the big chicken. "Oh Esposito," Beckett called sweetly. The Hispanic detective swiveled toward her, his military training clearly helping him mask the flash of trepidation in his face. She beckoned him over and kept her voice low. "I know you had something to do with the bullshit that happened this morning. For your penance, go get our illustrious 'Volunteer Civilian Investigator' in the men's room and make sure he's seated comfortably with the examiner."
He nodded crisply and vanished. Beckett stretched her arms above her head, flexing her hands to crack her knuckles before heading into the interrogation room herself. She wanted front row seats for this event.
When Javier ushered Rick in, the author glanced at her as he would his executioner. "Is she supposed to be in her?" he somehow managed not to stammer.
"Well, since this is merely an informal query, there is no regulation against Detective Beckett's presence," the representative replied smoothly.
The examiner set all of the probes in place and switched on the polygraph. She read from her script, but a frantic scratching noise of pen on paper drew her attention. The last time Kate had heard a sound like that, it had been caused by a small furry creature in a determined but futile effort to escape its confines. It was an apt metaphor, because Rick looked panicked and distinctly uncomfortable, like he'd rather have said frantic furry thing running around inside his boxers than sit through the impending line of questioning. The examiner's eyebrows knitted as she glanced at the paper. Even during the baseline 'truth' questions, the trace was going haywire. "Detective, would you mind stepping out for a moment?"
Kate complied, suspecting strongly what the problem was. Moments later the examiner joined her in the hall. "I'm sorry, Detective Beckett, informal or not, you're going to have to stay out of the room. His biological response to you is…intense. If you want to glean any real information today, it will have to be from the other side of the glass."
Beckett took her spot in the observation room. The examiner told him to answer "No" to the question "Is your name Richard Castle?" and both attendants shot startled looks at the smooth trace of a "true" response. Rick shot a cocky glance at the mirror, proud to have confounded the system. Kate only smirked. "That's the only softball you're getting, Ricky."
"Have you ever been arrested?"
"Yes, several times. Twice by Detective Beckett, even."
"A simple yes or no, please. Ever been convicted of a felony?"
"No."
"Ever committed a murder?"
"Not unless you count literary characters."
"Ever witnessed a murder?"
"Damn near," he replied, gazing at the mirror, his eyes stormy. "Too damned near. But no."
Kate's gut clenched. She wanted payback for his little joke, his prying, but she didn't intend for him to relive her shooting. Damn.
The examiner's voice made them both focus again. "Do you write such violent stories to live vicariously through the antagonists?"
"No. The protagonists. I get to play pretend hero, save the day." Kate chuckled. A hero complex then. Not surprising in the least, really. "Plus, when I got my start, just a broke kid in college, I saw that it paid well." Hmm. More truth, or was it just convenient to mask his fantasy with a little mercenary twist?
The examiner opened her mouth to repeat the pat 'yes or no', but she seemed a little mesmerized. Rick couldn't resist weaving a story, just wasn't content to color inside the lines. Kate realized that getting answers from him was going to be easier than she thought. And apparently he wasn't even through telling this tale.
"People willingly plunk down their heard earned money to escape, root for the hero. A few might even enjoy trying the villain's shoes on for size. It's times like that, I'm not proud that I've written those parts so well."
More shadows crossed his face. This time she could tell he was thinking of the Tisdale case that started it all. Oh, Rick. But then there was a flicker in his expression. Was he…? Oh damn him, he was messing with her again, trying to spoil the sweetness of her revenge with guilt. Suddenly she lost any trace of guilt that she still harbored over the next questions.
"You've been divorced twice, is that correct?"
Castle answered in the affirmative. That was public knowledge.
"During your first divorce proceeding, were you found at fault?"
"My first wife served me with papers, so yes, clearly she felt something was my fault. Perhaps it was the fact that I refused to turn a blind eye while she was screwing half of Hollywood." A hint of real bitterness invaded his tone.
"During your second divorce proceeding, were you found at fault?"
"Only by myself, for thinking it was a good idea to marry someone I worked so closely with." After the words were out of his mouth his eyes slammed shut and she saw him swear under his breath. Clearly he regretted saying something that might spell doom for their relationship.
"That is not a…"
"No. I was NOT. Now, are we done here? Are we even now?" Like her, in that chair hours earlier, he was no longer addressing comments to the people in the room, but to his partner, sitting on the other side of the mirror. His expression, oh, what a kaleidoscope. Displeasure at having her poke around in his personal life, but resignation that he'd gotten his just desserts, and just a little bit of admiration that she'd given as good as she'd gotten. There was something else there, too. It whispered "Why didn't you ask me directly, if you wanted to know." But that wasn't their way, was it? They always used the most indirect forms of communication. Very soon, that was going to have to change.
She waited for him outside the interrogation room. He was buttoning up his sleeve as he emerged, and he nearly bumped right into her. "Beckett!" he yelped.
She smiled serenely. "We're done for the day," she said. "Comfort food truck?"
He nodded his acceptance, looking relieved that she even wanted to be around him. As they exited the bullpen, they passed Ryan's desk, and he gave them a confused look. Once in the elevator, Castle chanced the question. "So…what are you going to do to him?"
"I'm going to…leave him hanging…waiting to see what I'll do."
"Diabolical," Castle intoned appreciatively.
See what I did there? Hope you all enjoyed this! Please leave a review, I'm sorta addicted to them.
