CHAPTER ONE
RICHARD Castle stared at his computer monitor, watching as the lone cursor taunted him between milliseconds when the cursor flashed in-and-out yearning for words other then 'Chapter One.' To say he had hit a writers block would have been an understatement. Gina, his ex-wife and publisher, had been hounding him to start another Nikki Heat novel, since his last Nikki Heat novel, Naked Heat, was number seven on the New York Times Bestseller List.
However, that was three months ago. In three months Castle was usually done writing a novel, not staring at the screen every night hoping words would magically appear until his manuscript was done. He could almost hear Gina's voice in his head, threatening him with the return of the advance in money (again) - as if that would inspire him enough to write. On the other hand, he could also hear his mother's voice, telling him that he was just at a standstill - that these things sometimes happen.
Castle wasn't the only one at a standstill. In what would be considered a good thing, New York City had been awfully quiet in the homicide department, to the point where his friends at the 12th Precinct were working cold cases, since fresh homicides had taken a metaphorical backseat. Beckett had told him once that it wasn't uncommon to have a 'dry spell' where no recent murders have been committed, but for Castle, part of the allure of shadowing Beckett was getting down to the nitty-gritty of a homicide and watch the story play out from the beginning to the end. For him, a cold case was like opening a book halfway and being expected to know every detail before that as if he had read the beginning - as if he knew first hand what was going on.
Turning in his chair, he put his laptop back on the desk, thinking a change in scenery might incite the flow of some creative juices, or inspire him to write something that was more than two words. Unfortunately, inspiration, at the moment, was MIA.
"Writing troubles?"
Castle looked up from his laptop screen to see his daughter, Alexis, standing at the doorframe. She had seen him before when he was stuck writing a particular scene, or having troubles finding dialogue for his characters, but she had never seen him without a plan for a novel. When he wrote something, everything was mapped out in his head before he even began to write, and now there was nothing.
He closed his laptop down, and then said, "No, not really."
Alexis crossed her arms. "You aren't a very good liar, Dad."
"Yeah, I guess you are right," He said, leaning back in his ultra-comfy chair. "I think I just need to get out of this apartment for a bit, you know? Find some inspiration in New York City's air."
"You mean pollution and rotting garbage on the streets?" Alexis joked, which caused Castle to smile.
"Wouldn't be New York without it," He said, and as if on cue, his cell phone began to vibrate on his desk, the picture on his iPhone showing the book cover-art of Nikki Heat, naked and holding a gun strategically, to remind Castle that there was something else New York wouldn't be New York without. Murder.
"Beckett," He said, when he picked up the phone. "I was just thinking about you."
BECKETT pulled up her unmarked police car next to the ME van, and shut off the engine. For a moment, she watched as the police lights colored the night sky, before she brought herself back to reality and reminded herself that a body had been found after two months of nothing. Two months wasn't the longest New York had gone without a murder, and now that she was here at the crime scene and observed CSU and other police personnel squaring off a part of Central Park, and investigating the scene, she felt as if this murder was taunting her; as if to remind her that evil acts such as murder would never leave the city, no matter how much she wished it would.
She got out of the car, shutting the door, and then made her way over to that damned yellow tape. She could feel the barrage of every emotion inside her, from sadness to anger, as she crossed the police line. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough to remind her that she wasn't over the events that had happened 10 years ago, when it was her mother lying on the cold New York pavement, and only the moon was watching over her.
Esposito and Ryan were already there. For some reason, even though she was the first to be at work, they were always the first Detectives to arrive at a crime scene. She couldn't be sure, but she had a funny feeling that they had used their police dome light to navigate through New York's traffic.
Beckett walked over to Laine who was knelt down on the ground examining the body. The victim was male, African American, slim, but muscular and very well dressed, and if she had to guess, the suit he was wearing was an Armani.
Lanie looked up to see her friend, and smiled. "Castle here yet?"
Before Beckett could answer, Castle's familiar voice was heard saying, "I'm here! I'm coming! Don't start without me!" As he made his way over to the body.
When Castle was finally close enough, Beckett asked, "What do we got?"
"Male. Forty years old. COD looks like strangulation," Lanie answered.
"Do you have an ETD?" Beckett asked, and Laine nodded.
"Rigor Mortis has just begun to set, so I would say no more then over 3 hours ago. So around 5 to 6pm, but if I had to guess-" Lanie grabbed the victim's hand, showing Castle and Beckett the Rolex watch he was wearing that was stuck at 5:30pm, as if it had been broken "it would be 5:30pm on the dot."
Beckett looked down at her father's watch that she wore to remind herself of the life she saved after her mother's death. It was now 10:00pm, and this homicide didn't appear to be a robbery since the victim still had his very expensive things with him, including his briefcase and wedding ring on. If he was still married, she had no doubt that his wife would be wondering where he was.
"Do we know who he is?" She asked, and now Esposito and Ryan joined the three of them.
"Vic's name is Victor Shawn," Esposito answered.
"Corporate lawyer," Ryan added, and then held up an evidence bag with a cellphone in it. "Caller ID has someone named Robyn phoning for the past hour."
"That could be his wife," Beckett said. "What about his wallet?"
Esposito handed it to her, and she looked through it. The address on his drivers license had put him on the opposite side of town. Castle noticed that too.
"What was he doing in Central Park?" Castle asked, and the two male detectives shrugged.
"Could be a dump," Ryan said, after a moment. "I mean, there were car keys found on him, but no car. We've checked."
"Nice car too," Esposito said. "Lamborghini."
"Guy had a nice life," Castle remarked, looking down at the man.
"Who called it in?" Beckett asked.
"Old woman walking her dog. Lost control of her dog, and found the dog sniffing around the body," Esposito answered. "Didn't see anything before that, but then again she said she was old and her eye sight was bad, plus it didn't help that it was dark."
Beckett thanked Esposito and Ryan, and then said goodbye to Lanie, who was getting ready to move the body back to the morgue. She started to head toward her car.
"Where are you going?" Castle asked, following her.
She stopped, turning to face him. "To his home. I have to tell his wife."
Castle froze. This was the only thing he hated about shadowing Beckett, and that was being the bearer of bad news. He admired Beckett's ability to tell someone the worst news of their lives, and he knew that Beckett had once been the receiver of that news, and that was what often made her the go to detective to tell family and friends what every detective dreaded telling.
"You can come if you want," Beckett said, and for the first time Castle wasn't sure if he wanted to tag along, knowing that if he went, he might not sleep that night.
