Chapter 3

The heat had been turned up, the wastebasket was gone and Kate could sleep the way she liked best, with one leg sticking out from the covers. Rick lightly ran the tips of his fingers over the smooth warm skin. The city lights cast their glow on Kate's sleeping face. She was so beautiful. She was challenging and often infuriating and he couldn't imagine loving anyone more. Rick brushed a silky lock out of Kate's face and her lashes lifted slowly. "What time is it?" she asked.

"Four thirty," Rick answered. "Even the guys on the loading dock haven't arrived yet."

"What are you doing up?" Kate asked.

"Looking at you," Rick answered. "I love looking at you."

Kate snorted. "You must love bed hair and blue ankles."

Rick cupped her cheek. "I love you."

Tears came unbidden to Kate's eyes at the look in Rick's. Sometimes her annoyance with his little boy antics made her forget the man behind them, but at this moment his love was overwhelming. Her hand stroked his face, feeling the roughness against her palm. Her glance went briefly to his lips before returning to his eyes, as they drew closer. Their mouths met, first with gentleness, then with an electrifying flash of need. They came together, each move, each touch, contributing to a rising tide. The sensual wave crested, its energy washing over their joining and in each other they were complete.

It was still quite early when Rick made the heart topped lattes to go with their morning scramble. They were able to linger over the richness of the coffee until the first streaks of orange and pink began to penetrate the windows of the loft. Kate had chosen the purple high tops that morning, warmed by Rick's choice of her favorite color. She paired them with a soft purple blouse under an austere blazer and felt prepared to meet the day.

Beckett and Castle went directly to Mastco, the company where the murder had taken place, to interview the first shift employees. They first sat down with Bennie Ramirez. He reminded Castle of a pre-Al Capone's vault Geraldo Rivera. His accent was pure Manhattan except when he spoke his name and he was clearly both earnest and ambitious. He explained that he was working while going to school and didn't socialize much with his co-workers because he spent any spare moments he had, studying. He was acquainted with Ernesto but didn't really know him. Bennie was adamant that he ignored company politics and if there was any intrigue going on, he didn't know about it.

Beckett was really anxious to interview the old timers described by Jeremy Bonner. Perry Green was first. Perry Green was large. His shoulders were broad, even broader than Castle's. In his steel toed boots he stood at least six feet four inches, and his biceps strained at his work shirt. Despite the streaks of gray in his hair, he looked able to lift a small car with little effort.

Green looked Castle up and down dismissively, smirking at the upscale haircut and well tailored shirt. He gave Beckett a smile that might only be described as indulgent. "What can I do for you, Detective," he asked.

"Tell me about Ernesto Garcia," Beckett told him, with no smile whatsoever.

"He was an OK kid," Perry answered, "maybe a little pushy. He definitely had his eye on moving up. He talked a lot about modernizing the place."

"You didn't like that." Castle stated.

Perry gave Castle a peeved look. "I say if it ain't broke, don't fix it." Perry told him. "Things around here work fine,"

Perry looked at Beckett and pasted a smile back on his face. "Anything else you'd like to know, Detective? I really need to get back to work."

"Just this, Mr. Green, can you think of anyone who might want to hurt Ernesto."

"No, Detective," Perry assured Beckett. "We have a good crew. Everyone gets along.

"Thank you, Mr. Green," Beckett said. "I'll let you know if we have any more questions."

Green smiled at Beckett, ignored Castle, and strode away. Beckett wished she wasn't craning her neck looking after him. "He's lying," Castle said. "He should have at least mentioned Julio Cortez. He would know about that. Almost everyone does. I don't think this is the happy crew he makes them out to be."

"That may be, Castle," Beckett agreed, "but it doesn't make him a murderer."

Jimmy Holt was a wiry man of indeterminate age. He greeted Beckett and Castle politely. "I don't know what I can tell you, Detective. I left after my shift. I didn't see anything."

"Just tell us about Ernesto Garcia," Beckett prompted. "Can you think of any reason anyone would want to kill him?"

"Take a swing at him, maybe. Kill him, no," Holt replied.

"Could you elaborate,"Castle asked.

"He had a tiff with that kid, Julio Cortez about a girl. Some of the guys thought he was trying to take away their overtime. Nothing that serious."

Beckett could see that she wasn't going to get any new information and let Holt go back to work. "Love and money," Castle said."Two classic motives for murder and we keep hearing about them."

"Yeah, too bad we're not hearing anything approaching evidence," Beckett told him. "We've still got Bittle and then we should take a run at Julio. I wish we had the real crime scene."

"Hang on, Beckett," Castle told her. "I've got an idea. Let's find Parker Boyd."

"What for?" Beckett asked.

"I think I might have the right question for him."

Parker Boyd was busily repairing a printer in one of the offices. He looked up, but held on to the needle nose pliers he had been using. "Parker," Castle asked. "Have you seen any blood?"

"Where?"

"On the floor, or the wall, or outside," Castle explained.

"Yes," Parker answered.

"Can you show us?" Castle asked.

"Yes," Parker said, but didn't move.

Castle gave a little smile and rephrased. "Parker, please show us the blood."

Parker took Castle and Beckett to an area behind the main building of Mastco and pointed to a few nearly invisible drops leading to another building, locked with a padlock.

"What is that?" Castle asked pointing to the building.

"Storage building," Parker answered.

"Do you have a key?" Beckett asked.

"No." Parker answered.

Beckett was catching on. "Who has the key, Parker?"

"No one," Parker answered.

"Where is the key?" Castle asked.

"On the wall in the shop."

Beckett asked Parker to show her where the key was. It was attached to a metal panel, hanging on a nail. She put on her gloves before handling it, and she and Castle unlocked the door to the storage building. It only took a look. Things had been knocked over and scattered and a splintered two by four lay on the ground. Beckett called CSU.

While she was waiting for CSU to arrive, Beckett wanted to interview Archie Bittle and Julio Cortez but Archie Bittle had called in sick and Julio Cortez was scheduled for swing shift. Beckett called Esposito to pick Julio Cortez up and bring him to the 12th.

Beckett and Esposito sat across from Cortez with Castle sitting against the wall in a chair. "Mr. Cortez, we've been told by several of your co-workers that you had a problem with Ernesto Garcia over Esperanza Gonzales," Beckett began.

Julio sat silently staring at Beckett. Esposito repeated the query in Spanish. Julio continued to stare. Beckett stood, giving Julio her signature glare. Grinning at her, Julio maintained his silence. After hours of frustration, Esposito took Julio to holding.

Rick took Kate to dinner before they returned to the loft. He found a tiny restaurant. Like the Rivington Club, there was no sign, but the door was unlocked. There were only four tables, each covered with a white cloth and lit by a single candle. There was no menu, the chef prepared a special meal for each night. A house wine was available, but Rick passed on it because of possible interactions with Kate's pain medication. They began with an exquisite antipasto followed by a creamy pasta. Dessert was tiramisu.

They returned to the loft comfortably full and cuddly. "Ready to go to sleep?" Rick asked Kate as she snuggled into his shoulder.

"No," Kate murmured, "but I'm ready to go to bed."

A/N Just in case anyone should think I'd make fun of a person with autism or any other disability, nothing could be further from the truth. I've raised two sons with autism. One thing I have learned is that getting information out a person with autism can be like getting information out of a search engine. You have to ask the right questions. That is what I'm trying to show with Parker. Sometimes it can be funny in a laughing instead of crying sort of way.