Chapter 2

Rick groaned. "What's the matter?" Kate asked.

"Please don't take this as a complaint," Rick told her. "I loved it, but I may have to take more yoga classes to survive it. How do you...?"

"You use your imagination to write, I use mine other ways." Kate stroked Ricks body with the tips of her fingers, eliciting another groan. "You want me to stop?" Kate asked.

"No, please no," Rick replied emphatically. "Maybe you can just kiss it and make it better."

Kate brushed Rick's hair off his forehead, replacing it with a featherlight kiss. Kisses rained over his face, a cascade moving over his eyes, to his lips, his jaw and tracing the silky trail of hair down his chest and beyond. Rick couldn't be still. His hands slid over her skin, seeking the magical places he had come to know. It was too much and not enough. Separation no longer conceivable, they came together with one mind, and overcome with both the race and the finish, reveled in the final prize.

Kate rested under the curve of Rick's arm. "Feeling better?" she asked.

Rick pulled her close, kissing her love-mussed hair. "You have no idea."

Except for the tape-sealed Snug Room, Theresa Beckett had been allowed to re-open her pub, but she had given up her office to Kate Beckett and Castle as a place to conduct interviews.

Bridget McMahon, a fiddle player, could get even tone deaf men to pay attention to the band. Her long mane of red curls and brilliant blue eyes were complimented by a well filled low cut white blouse. Her short skirt revealed shapely legs. Castle knew that if he wasn't very careful about how he aimed his gaze, he would pay the price later, although Beckett's torture was getting to be more and more fun.

"Ms. McMahon," Beckett asked, "how well did you know Declan Price?"

"Detective, I'm sure you'll hear it around here anyway, so I might as well be the one to tell you. At one time or another, all of the men in the band have been my lovers. Declan was no exception."

"Were you currently seeing each other?" Beckett asked.

"No, Declan was seeing someone else, but I don't know who."

"Can you think of anyone who might want to kill him?" Beckett asked.

"Maybe when he was gambling," Bridget told her, "but not now. He had really turned his life around. If he had a problem with anyone, I didn't see it."

Beckett thanked Bridget and gave her a card. Theresa bustled in with a tray with potato wedges, wings, and a couple of tall glasses, as Bridget left. "I thought you two could use a snack. The drinks are non-alcoholic," she said in response to Kate's questioning gaze. "How are you doing with the case?"

Kate suppressed a smile at her aunt's transparent attempt to garner some tidbit of information. "We're still in the early stages," she told Theresa, "but you could help with one thing. Do you know who Declan might have been seeing lately?"

"No," Theresa answered, "but it wasn't Bridget."

"How do you know?" Castle asked.

"Because the men in the band all wear white shirts and Declan would have long brunette hairs on his," Theresa told him smugly. "Kate isn't the only one with detecting skills in the family."

"I can see that," Castle told her. "Nice."

"Well, if you're all set, I'll check in with you later," Theresa told them and left.

Castle looked at the furrows forming on Kate's brow. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"I don't want her thinking she should go poking around in things by herself."

"Why would she think that?" Castle asked.

Kate smiled ruefully. "Because it's what I'd do."

Rick flicked the lock on the door and pulled Kate in for a kiss.

The guitar player was one Elton Williams the Third who looked as if he had just gone down for the third time. His hair was in strings and there were several unidentifiable stains on his once white shirt. When he crossed his legs in a broken four, a hole in his boot was clearly visible. "I'd love to be of service," he said, trying to make an accent from an unpleasant part of London sound more posh. "I just really can't imagine who might want to do harm to Declan. He was a good chap."

"Do you know who he was dating?" Beckett asked.

"Haven't a clue. He didn't bring her round."

"Did you and Declan ever play billiards?" Castle asked.

"Used to," Elton told him. "But I like to make the game more interesting, if you know what I mean, and Declan didn't do that anymore. Actually, he was turning into a downright bore."

"Thank you Mr. Williams," Beckett said, "if we have any more questions, we'll be in touch."

As Elton was leaving, Theresa came to the doorway. "Rory's here," she whispered. Theresa beckoned Kate and Castle to the bar and pointed to a man. He was about five foot two, wore an ascot cap and riding boots, and was hunched over a pint which he drank slowly while his eyes darted about the room. Beckett signaled Castle that he should sit at a table. She popped a button on her blouse, shook out her hair and took the bar stool next to Rory. With slitted eyes, Theresa placed a drink in front of Kate. Kate took a small sip through the tiny straw and then stuck it in her mouth, sucking on it. As she withdrew the straw, she smiled at Rory.

"You can lose the act, Detective," Rory said. "There's not much goes on around here I don't know about. I know who you are. I saw your picture when Theresa was passing around your engagement announcement. Your fiance over there is looking none too happy, so if you have a question for me, just ask."

Beckett gestured for Castle to come over and he sat on the stool beside her. "OK Rory, she started, "first of all, what's your full name?"

"Rory Ian McCleod."

Castle took notes as Beckett questioned McCleod.

"I understand," Beckett told McCleod, "that you make loans."

"I do," Rory agreed.

"Did you make any to Declan Price?"

"I did, but not recently. He's all paid up, has been for a while."

"Do you know anyone else he owes money to."

"No, no one competes with me here."

"Do you know anyone who might want to hurt him?"

"Not personally, no, but there was a guy here a couple of times. He sat in that corner over there. He was watching the band, but not with a friendly eye."

"What did he look like?"

"Tall, thin, and broke. He made a pint last all night, ate lots of pretzels, and his clothes were falling apart."

"If we put you with an artist, do you think we could get a sketch?' Beckett asked.

"We could do that, Detective, but let's do it quickly. This is cutting into my business hours, so to speak."

Beckett and Castle took Rory back to the 12th and watched him sitting with the sketch artist. "That guy would make quite a detective," Castle commented. "He notices everything."

"I imagine in his line of work that's helpful," Beckett said. "It's got to be easier to loan money to someone that will actually pay it back than to have to hire a knee breaker. Still it's a shame he isn't putting his talent to better use."

Castle had been busy on his phone. "He used to. He was on his way up in racing until his horse took a spill right on top of him. Both his legs were crushed pretty badly. He wasn't even expected to walk again. I guess he's doing the best he can."

When the sketch was finished, Beckett and Castle took it back to the pub. Several of the staff recognized it, but since the man had always paid cash, there was no name to go with the sketch. After bangers and mash at Theresa's urging, they returned to the loft.

Rick pulled at his belt. "If we hang around your aunt's pub much more I'm going to need a serious workout."

Kate unbuckled the belt and pulled it free. "I think I could help you with that."

Rick grimaced. "I think that mash was full of onions."

Kate pulled Ricks arms around her and linked her hands behind his neck. "In that case," she said, kissing his lips, "it's a good thing we both ate it."