Chapter 3 – Hard Cold Truths

Each and every day following that cryptic phone call had been an emotional and physical beating for Kate. The strain on her system had been persistent, intense and had taxed her reserves far beyond anything she had endured before. And now, Castle was gone. Not missing, but off the grid by choice pursuing the shadows of unrecognizable villains that had him tossing, turning, and talking in his sleep more nights than not. This new stressor, coupled with an almost two week old gun shot wound that would not heal, coagulated into a deep sense of worry. What if some sort of side effect from it all manifested itself into forcing an error in judgment or action on her part? If someone else died, it would be all on her.

Beckett had bolted through the same secret exit as the fake Henry Jenkins as soon as she had been able to pull herself together. Jagged fragments of the letter and song her husband had left refused to stay where she tried to put them - deep in a dark corner of her mind. So how she came to be standing in front of the loft's door was anyone's guess. Pausing only briefly to catch her breath and find her key, she was more than a little surprised when it actually nudged the tumblers in the lock to roll back in hollow welcome. She half expected them to have been changed. A consequence she knew was often a cohort associated with divorce papers.

Divorce. She had left the papers on his desk – all of them. She didn't want anything to do with any of it. Most of all she didn't want a divorce. The shock of seeing those papers with his signature already there and a line underneath it with her name neatly typed waiting for hers was more jarring than the fact that he was gone again. She could not begin to imagine what that would even look or feel like. At first she wondered how could he, but then was honest with herself and had to admit there was really no way he could not.

The loft sat silent, empty, but for her, he was there. Not in any real physical form, but his presence emanated from each piece of furniture, every decorative accent, every color. She was there too. This had been her home for a while, and she missed it more than she had ever dreamed possible. A dull thudding pain began at the base of her neck and she made her way to the kitchen bar and sat down. Had it really only been a week and a half since she told him it was over? A scant ten days since she had been soothed by the sound of his deep bass voice resonating off these very walls.

She hadn't seen him since that night. Not once had he come to the station or shown up at a crime scene or even the morgue. There had been no phone calls, texts or pretense for communicating with her. For once he had listened and hadn't tried to charm his way around her demands. He had gone completely dark and it was tearing her apart.

"Katherine, what are you doing here?" Martha Rogers had used a key of her own to gain entrance into the loft.

Beckett rose as she turned to face the woman who had been more mother than mother-in-law to her since they had married, "Martha, I'm sorry. I was looking for Castle."

The older woman dropped her handbag on the couch and continued to the kitchen where she poured herself a glass of wine and one for Kate without inquiring if she even wanted one. "I find that somewhat hard to believe, dear."

Beckett sank back onto the barstool, "You've spoken to Alexis."

Martha's serrated tone put Kate's defenses on alert, "I'll ask you again. What are you doing in my son's home?"

"Not to long ago this was my home too," Beckett's voice was weak, tired and hovered barely above a whisper.

If she was looking for sympathy, she had run into the wrong mother, "Need I remind you that you are the one who abandoned my son and your marriage with no explanation?"

Kate shook her head dropping her chin in resignation, "No, no you don't, but you don't know the whole story."

Leaning forward on her elbows across the granite kitchen counter she offered an olive branch to the woman she had grown to care for as a daughter, a small window of opportunity for reformation, "I'm listening."

She looked up and into Martha's face and saw him in her, which caused her to initially falter, but ultimately tell her, "I can't."

Slowly straightening to her full height, Martha finished off her drink, her eyes never leaving Kate's face, "Then I think it's time for you to go."

Beckett stood as if on command, "When's the last time you saw or talked to him?"

"I think it's best that you leave your key when you go," the older woman announced firmly ensuring that she understood it was not merely a suggestion.

"I think he's been drawn back into something really dangerous by people who don't have his best interest in mind. He could get himself killed." Kate's headache began a new more intense pulsing rhythm in her skull.

Martha had begun herding her toward the door, but stopped short to stare into her eyes, "Am I to assume that you do, Katherine? Have his best interests in mind?"

Kate's eyes filled with tears, "I wish…I wish I could make you understand."

Martha's resolve wavered as the love she had once felt for her daughter-in-law pooled just beneath the surface, "I'm still listening."

Beckett trembled with the exertion it took not to spill everything she knew. Her mouth even tried to form the words that would extricate her from the mire of the pit she found herself in, but instead she asked one more time, "When is the last time you spoke to him? Did he say anything that might help me find him?"

A firm line replaced the subtle curve that normally graced Martha's lips, "We're done here. It's time to go."

Kate's eyes were drawn to the hand outstretched in front of her, "I need to find him."

"You need to leave my son alone. Just go. Please don't disrespect my family by coming here again. I'll take that key now." Any trace of empathy had vanished from her visage.

Beckett pulled the key ring from her pocket. It was the only one on it and it dangled in front of both of their eyes, singular and solitary, when she held it out to her.

As Kate crossed the threshold into the hallway, the sound the door made when it met the jamb caused her to flinch involuntarily with its finality. Leaning back against it, she allowed herself to wonder what she had really hoped to find at the loft. Had she really believed that Castle would be there? That there was a shred of a chance that she could've stopped him before he disappeared again down his own rabbit hole? She didn't think so. Her motives had not been that altruistic. They had been far more base and primitive. The truth was that she had wanted to be some place she knew he had been most recently. A place they had been together and been happy where she could hope to connect with him even if it was just in memory. It had been a messy, ill-conceived, desperate attempt on her part to salvage something that was obviously already well out of reach. It had been a mistake, another in a seemingly ever-growing string.

As she stepped out of his building onto the street, she breathed deeply of the cool early evening air hoping it would bring her some relief from the massive headache she was fighting. She felt really warm and as a chill passed through her, she sensed rather than heard someone behind her. Kate whirled on her heel and trained her gun in the direction of the intrusion.

Rita chuckled, "I think I need to work on my approach."

"Fuck, Rita, you've got to stop doing that," Kate holstered her weapon and flashed her badge in the direction of a young couple who had been startled by the scene.

"Well, we could stop meeting like this if you would just stay in your lane." She was smiling, but she wasn't happy.

Suddenly angry that she had been told the same thing twice in less than five minutes, Kate lashed out, "Castle is my lane."

Rita's chuckle was rife with sarcasm, "Not according to my scorecard, Captain."

The comment stung, burned even as it hit its mark, "Why are you here?"

The operative raised a knowing eyebrow, "Mother-in-law not so happy to see you?"

"Getting kind of personal aren't we?" Kate was still struggling to find her emotional footing after what had happened with Martha in the loft.

"You think that was out of line? We are family," Rita paused as though calculating her next move, "of a sort, and you seem to be running a little short as of late."

Beckett's frustration with the conversation sharpened her words to a razor's point, "I think our definitions of family may be drastically different."

"Probably how we treat them too," Rita's acquiescence wasn't meant to be conciliatory and the steely coldness that had seeped into her stare made that readily apparent.

Angry tears invaded her eyes, but Kate fought to keep them from breaching, "What do you want from me?

Satisfied, Rita turned the conversation to the real reason why she had come, "Why were you at the PI office today looking for Castle?"

Kate didn't even bother asking how she knew; "I needed to find out if an old contact had reached out to him recently."

"Exposing Smith was ballsy – horrifically self-serving, but ballsy." There might even have been the slightest hint of respect in her tone.

Exasperation rifled through Beckett's mind causing her to stumble into Rita's trap and try to defend herself, "Smith was Castle's asset. I thought he might contact him and give away the lead he gave me."

"I guess that would have been a fly in this finely tuned plan you and that nobody analyst have to bring down the heavily fortified, highly trained, over funded and motivated LockSat?"

The grating sarcasm shoved Kate onto the offensive; "I had to be sure that he wouldn't involve himself in this. I was trying to protect him. Isn't that what you told me to do?"

"I advised you to let LockSat's designated scapegoat AAG Allison Hyde be your ticket back to your husband, your new job, and the Norman Rockwell future you had to look forward to. You did not take that advice and so here we are." Rita's comments were delivered in a very matter of fact way – oddly free of accusation or condemnation.

Before Beckett could respond, the woman closed in on her so aggressively that she stepped back on instinct only to find that she had been cornered against the wall of the building with nowhere to go, "I'm here to deliver a message Captain Beckett from people so high above your clearance and pay grade that you'd pass out from lack of oxygen before you got within a mile of them, so I need you to listen very carefully. You can do whatever you want as far as your pursuit of LockSat goes, but you are not – repeat – NOT to go looking for Castle. If you ever loved him. Leave this alone. Nod if you understand." She did.

Rita backed away from Kate about two feet and her face lit up with a radiant smile, "Damn it's a beautiful night for a walk."

Beckett found her voice; she was livid, "You're psychotic."

Rita had already turned her back on Kate and was walking away, but her answer made its way to her even over the din of rush hour traffic, "Sounds like a good reason to do what I tell you."

Kate called after her, "Rita! WAIT!"

The light was forming a ghostly silhouette around her and she paused to offer one final piece of advice before she would round the corner and be out of sight, "Stay in your fucking lane, Beckett. Stay in your lane."