Reality Check

Summary – When Castle has a car wreck on the way home from a book signing, he visited by a ghost from the past, but is it a delusion or real? Happens in the future after the wedding.

Author's Notes – Thanks so much for all the follows, reviews, and favorites. While the city of Newburgh, NY is real, the names of the police officers are fictional. And this story is turning out to be much longer than I first anticipated because I thought of some stuff to add to it.

Yes, I agree that Tyson probably has a defective gene, maybe even attachment disorder with a side of biopolar, even though he is highly intelligent.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Andrew Marlowe and Disney do.

Chapter 4 – Front Row Seat

When Beckett had called her at 4 am, Gates had quickly given the team permission to use NYPD resources to look for Castle.

They decided they needed to start in Newburgh and made the 1-1/2 hour trip in record time, Beckett and Lanie in her cruiser, Ryan and Espo in theirs.

The Newburgh police chief was waiting for them at the police station.

"Detective Beckett," he said as he shook hands with her. "I'm Police Chief Eric Strangman. We've set up a command center in the conference room. This way."

"This is Dr. Lanie Parish and Detectives Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan," she said as she introduced her team. "Richard Castle is a civilian consultant in our department."

Strangman chuckled slightly. "Yes, I actually met him yesterday at the book signing. My wife is a fan."

He opened the door to the room, which contained a white board that had several pictures of Castle on it and a map of the area that had locations marked off.

"We're coordinating the search with the NYSP and the NYPD and put out a BOLO on him and his car after we received the missing persons report. They've checked all the gas stations, travel stops, hotels, and motels on both 9W and I-87 between here and New York City. But so far, none of the patrols have spotted him. We've also checked with wrecker companies to see if he had broken down and called one, but no one matched his description. We're currently checking with all ERs and urgent care facilities in the area."

Strangman paused for a moment before continuing. "There is one other possibility. The roads were slick last night because of the rain so he may have gone off the side and be hidden by the brush and trees. We'll be able to see more when the sun comes up in about 30 minutes."

Beckett nodded. "Thanks. We'll be participating in that. Dr. Parish and I will take 9W, and Espo and Ryan will take I-87."

Espo and Ryan nodded in agreement.

"I thought you might," said Strangman.

"I appreciate the help," said Beckett, smiling slightly.

"In the meantime, can I get you some coffee?" Strangman asked the team.

Beckett nodded. "That would be great. Thanks."

She turned to examine the board as Strangman walked out of the room.

The pictures included the ones Beckett had faxed, a headshot of Castle and a picture of them in front of his car. Several others were obviously taken yesterday at the book signing. She smiled slightly as she slowly ran her hand over them, and then paused, focusing on one picture in particular.

Castle stood smiling next to a fan, but it wasn't Castle who drew her attention. It was the two people in the background, a woman whose face was clearly visible and a man standing with his back to the camera.

If the picture had been in the paper, she wouldn't have even noticed because of the grainy quality associated with newspapers, but this picture was crisp, obviously taken using professional equipment.

"Chief Strangman," she said as he walked back into the room, carrying several cups. "Who took this photo?"

Strangman looked over his glasses at it. "That would be Steve Bonner, the reporter from the local newspaper. He was there at the beginning of the signing."

Beckett turned to Ryan and Espo. "Recognize someone?"

They both looked at the picture and swore under their breath at the same time.

Lanie frowned as she looked at the picture. "Kate, I don't understand."

"You haven't met her personally, but you know her work." Beckett pointed a finger at the woman. "That's Kelly Nieman."

# # # # # # # # # #

"So, ready to share yet?" asked Tyson as he played with the water bottle. "That was our agreement."

"That was your agreement," Castle said as he shifted in the seat to ease the discomfort in his back. His legs were free, but the steering wheel pressed into his chest, virtually pinning him in place, and he was unable to raise his hands for some reason.

Castle groaned in frustration. "Okay, fine. Yes, my mother was an unwed mother – she met my father on one glorious, magical night and then never saw him again. I was born on April 1st and she'd always call me her 'April Fool's baby'. I started writing early. When I was younger, my mother spent the majority of her time on the Great White Way, and I spent the majority of my time in the public library."

Tyson sighed. "Oh, Richard, Richard, I'm disappointed. I read that on your website. Can't you come up with something more original?" He peered at him. "You're drawn to death – you write about it, you fantasize about it, and it thrills you. Now, where does that really come from?"

Castle looked away, pausing a moment to collect his thoughts. "When I was 12, Mother was practicing for a play one afternoon, so I went to the library. There was a teenage couple, very obviously in love. They stared into one another's eyes, practically sat on each other's laps. Then he went to get some books and, while he was gone, another boy came over and they talked for a minute. When the first boy got back, she left and the second boy came over to the first boy and told him that she had been flirting with him." Castle shook his head. "When she came back, there was yelling and tears – it was like a bad stage production of Othello. The librarian made them leave. And then I saw them the next morning on the news. He had strangled her on the way home. And it never made any sense to me."

Tyson sat up straighter on the hood. "That's it? How pedestrian." He paused. "But then again, you make up stories for a living…could it be that you made that one up?"

Castle looked at him. "You really expect me to bare my soul to a psychotic serial killer?"

"Yes, if you want water," responded Tyson, gently shaking the water bottle. "But then again, they might be able to find you before you die of thirst. Care to experience that? I'm told it's not pleasant."

"No," said Castle, giving in. "I grew up in the theater. My mother was always dragging me to rehearsals, opening nights, and summer stock. The audience thinks all the drama happens on stage, but they would be surprised at what happens backstage. People could do the most hideous things to people they called friends – laxative in a drink, broken glass in shoes, costumes that don't fit suddenly, broken props. It always amazed me how they could treat one another like that and still greet each other with smiles as if nothing happened."

"Never murder?" asked Tyson.

"None that could be proven," commented Castle, looking away. He would be damned if he told Tyson the real reason death attracted him. He closed his eyes again, rested his head against the headrest, and hoped that help would come soon.

# # # # # # # # #

The flash of morning sun bouncing off the brown and white in the bushes caught Trooper K.C. Perkins' attention as she drove slowly down 9W, looking for skid marks that signified a car had gone off the side of the road. She pulled to a stop on the shoulder of the road and then looked both ways before crossing over the other side of the read.

She carefully navigated the puddles in the ditch to reach the bushes and then knelt to look at the pieces of broken plastic. Pulling out her phone, she took several pictures and then walked back to her squad car and picked up the radio.

"Dispatch, this is Perkins on 9W about a fourth of mile north of Storm King State Park. I think I've found the plastic deer that Mrs. Clayton's reported missing from her front yard yesterday morning. Looks like someone threw it from a truck, so it's totaled."

"Roger," said the dispatcher.

"It also looks like there are some faint skid marks – a car may have gone off the road here. I can't see anything from this position, so I'm going to take a closer look."

"Roger," said the dispatcher again. "Keep us updated."

"Will do," said Perkins as she walked over to the edge of the embankment and peered down into the trees.

# # # # # # # # #

Tyson looked up at the road as they both heard the car stopped. "This might be your lucky day," he said as they heard the car door open and shut.

A few minutes later, he smiled eerily as he looked through the branches. "Or it might be mine. You grew up in the theater, Richard. Maybe I'll give you a front row seat to what I do."

Tyson reached in and angled the rear viewer mirror higher so that Castle could see the trooper on the embankment, crouching down to examine the area.

# # # # # # # # #

Strangman and the team were going over the plans again when a deputy walked in.

"Sir, Perkins just radioed in. She found Mrs. Clayton's deer and reported faint skid marks about a fourth of mile north of Storm Creek State Park. She's checking the area now."

"Perkins?" asked Ryan, frowning. He quickly walked over to a wall and took down one of the pictures he had seen earlier. "Beckett, this is Officer Perkins," he said, holding up the picture of Perkins receiving an award.

Beckett's eyes widened in surprise as she looked at the young trooper whose blonde hair was pulled back in a pony tail and she whirled to face Stangman.

"Chief Strangman, call Perkins and tell her to stay in her car. And if she's approached by anyone, to leave the area immediately."

Strangman frowned. "I don't understand."

"Do you remember 3XK?" Beckett asked.

"Yeah, but I thought he died a couple of years ago," the chief replied.

"He may have, but we're not sure. This woman surgically altered 2 people to look like Detective Esposito and Dr. Parish last year," said Beckett, pointing at the picture. "They stole his files from the NYPD, and then they were killed the same way he killed people. And 3XK targeted young blonde women."

"And Perkins fits the profile," Stangman said before racing out of the room.

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