Chapter Four

They made good time to the precinct to drop of the files. Ryan and Esposito were going to take a closer look at them while Castle and Beckett were on their way to the home of Legal Aide Annie Marks. The woman had taken a personal day on receiving the news that her boss had been murdered, but they were able to reach her by phone.

Once they were settled in the car, she watched in her peripheral vision as Castle pulled his gloves off and offered them to her. She wanted to decline, but the steering wheel was icy cold and her gloves, while warm, were not efficient for driving because of the cotton blend that made them slippery. She relented, but not without an eye roll.

As she slipped on the now familiar, slightly too large gloves, she couldn't help noting that this time was different. Gloves from his pocket had prevented her hands from becoming cold against the frigid steering wheel, gloves straight off his hands provided an instant warmth that, for some reason, made her want to take them off as soon as she slipped her hands inside.

She fought the urge to throw them back at him and forced herself to take a calming breath and savor the warmth as she started towards the legal aide's house. "Thanks." She said simply, not daring a look in his direction so he could give her his conceited smile and an 'I told you so."

She still expected the 'told you so', but she didn't have to look at his smug face while he said it. She was surprised when all he said was, "You're welcome." before they lapsed into a comfortable silence for several blocks.

"I don't think Ferguson did it." he piped up, seemingly out of nowhere and she removed her eyes from the road for a second to cast him a questioning look with an eyebrow raised. He waived off her look and she turned back to the road as he continued, "Not that he doesn't make sense, or maybe because he makes too much sense. He's too easy a suspect."

"An easy suspect, really? You met the guy for five minutes and didn't say a word to him." She retorted, fully aware that Ferguson had sent her detective senses tingling. She wasn't sure why she was playing the other side of the fence except to be difficult.

She immediately concluded that this must be the kind of villainous power Castle felt when he was intentionally pushing her buttons as she listened to him scoff and stutter a moment before he continued, "He admitted a dislike for the victim, he was glad to see the man's life was falling apart before he died, but it's too neat."

"How's that?" she asked, goading now with an incredulous tone in her voice.

She saw out of the corner of her eye as his gaze shifted off her and out the windshield, she knew that expression and braced herself for the story.

Castle didn't disappoint as he weaved his interpretations into a logical story, "Ferguson busted his butt for Mason's firm. He worked hard, he put in extra hours when needed, he had a good solve rate. An opening came up, a chance to advance and move out of the second chair and into the lead role of being a lawyer with his own cases. He planned what he would say when they offered him the position, planned how he would play it calm and cool and close to the chest."

She couldn't help the laugh, "That is complete fabrication."

She noticed him turn his head and glanced toward him as well, giving a slight nod as if to say go on. She noted the hint of a smile, as if he thought she might have been telling him to shut up, but shrugged it off as she turned back to the road and he continued, "The day came, they were sure to make the announcement. He got dressed in his best suit, practiced his surprised face and went in that day with a huge smile gracing his features. However, instead of picking him after he had worked so hard for them, he watched Cooper get everything handed to him. Ferguson watched the other man step in where he had expected a promotion. He watched him for months. He watched as Cooper single handedly almost sank the firm with his poor track record, his infidelity, his endless string of potential sexual harassment lawsuits." Rick sighed; apparently, he was boring even himself this time, "So one night he's finally had enough. He watches as Cooper is about to blow another case or sees him make an egregious error that he would have avoided. He saw his chance to take the reins that should have been his to begin with."

This mental trick or device that he used to pull details from his imagination and add supposition had always fascinated her, but she had to admit it was more than that causing her to listen raptly. There was something about the low tones he used when describing the motives of a killer or explaining complex aspects of the case. Shockingly he was right more often than she expected. He was also wrong a lot, so she had gotten in the habit of listening for the enjoyment of hearing him tell the tale and not as much for any crime solving ability, especially not this early in a case.

Listening now reminded her of a summer when she had been twenty-one and counted the days for a straight month before she was finally able to go out to hear an author reading he had done in a smoky little coffee shop in .

Not that she would ever admit to that to him. Oh, he would have a field day with that little bit of knowledge.

She allowed herself to reminisce on her misspent youth for a moment before turning her attention back to Castle, "Even if half of that was true, how does that make him a bad suspect?"

She saw him shaking his head and glanced over to see his amused grin, "I didn't say he was a bad suspect, it's just too boring. He's too perfect for the killing. There's no twist."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" she started and he cut her off with a brisk wave of his hand.

"No more. I know life isn't like my books and our cases don't always play out the way I would write them." He sounded exasperated, but she was focused on two words.

They weren't a particularly enchanting couple of words. They were just a couple of words that one or both of them have spoken dozens if not hundreds of times. This was, however, the first time she had heard him string the two words together in that order. 'Our cases' he had said, and in a way that implied he had come to care for justice and take ownership over the outcome of their work, possibly as much as she did.

x.x.x

Castle felt a fresh wave of exhaustion sweeping through him as Beckett pulled her Crown Vic up in front of an unassuming apartment building. The stone of the exterior walls was a soft tan and empty flower boxes were scattered amongst the windows. Multiple colors of planters hanging along the front wall without plant-life in the dead of winter as if making a statement on the barrenness of the ties we hold with nature in the heart of the city.

It was not unusual to see planters in windows throughout the city. What was atypical was him noticing them and giving them any kind of conscious thought. He had felt his mind easily drawn to trivial things, minor details, insignificant objects or observations that he would normally glance over, for most of the day. He knew he needed sleep, but looking at his watch it was barely after noon and he was too far in now to turn back. It would end up worse for him if he went home now.

Grudgingly, he climbed out of the car and followed her into the building.

They rode the elevator to the third floor and waited nearly a full minute after knocking before they could hear several locks disengage and the door opened to let them inside.

The woman greeted them unceremoniously by stepping aside and gesturing them into her small apartment. She had apparently changed on coming home from the office. She was wearing flannel pajamas and fuzzy slippers, her robe pulled tight around her like a shield. While she probably looked young all the time, this outfit and her strikingly green eyes, still red and puffy from crying, made her look even more so. Her obviously fragile state reminded him so much of his daughter that first time she realized her mother wasn't going to be there for her birthday. He was certain that correlation wrought by his brain was more tied to her physical appearance than the actual emotional upset as the woman was barely older than Alexis and, while it was shorter, she had hair that was nearly the same shade.

"Miss Marks, I'm Detective Beckett, this is Rick Castle." Kate began as she took a seat on the couch where the woman had directed them. "I'm very sorry for your loss." The room fell silent for several moments as the woman's gaze dropped to her trembling hands as she absently picked at a loose string along the hem of her robe.

For the first time in a long time, Castle was more inclined to sit than stand and he took up a seat on the same couch as Beckett while the woman curled her feet under her to sit in an overstuffed chair facing them. He found the correlation strange. He and Kate had spoken with the wife shortly after leaving the crime scene this morning, but this woman seemed far more upset by the man's death than his own wife had been.

Of course, as he thought about it, he had been married twice and he couldn't imagine either of his ex-wives caring that he was gone beyond how it would affect their careers.

He knew from his time with Beckett that there were three kinds of people they encountered in giving the notification to friends and family.

There was the 'Bottlers' who tried to keep a cool head, an even voice, calm their actions and look generally like it were news they had gotten every day. No matter how much they tried, their furrowed brow and trembling hands always gave them away. That was Terry Cooper, wife of the victim.

There was the 'Rager' who was instantly put on edge, instantly angry at the world, at their loved one, at the detectives that brought the news. They would rage loudly until finally falling silent and watching the transition as they realized it wasn't some cosmic joke was startling at times. All the anger and intensity falls away and they are left there like a hallow shell of who they had been, shoulders slumped, their jaw of fist still clenched tight as if hoping to hold on to the anger so the pain never washed it away and took over.

And then there was his least favorite, the 'Weeper'. The ones who immediately misted over and openly cried. The ones he knew would probably not be done even hours after they had left them alone with their terrible news. Annie Marks was a 'weeper' and he felt a tug at his heart as he considered her closely.

The woman let out a tiny sound that at first had him looking for a pet cat, but she cleared her throat and her voice shook when she spoke, "Please, call me Annie, everyone calls me Annie."

"Annie," Castle said contemplatively, before he let his tone soften to a soothing level, "That's pretty. Is it short for anything?" He caught the look Beckett was giving him from the seat next to his, but he couldn't just sit quietly while he was having his heart tugged inexplicably by this poor young girl. He hated to see this young woman suffering and, as was his way, attempted to bring a little light into an otherwise dark day.

Annie shook her head, "My mom was always in some small part or another on Broadway. She loved the theater." The frail-looking woman shrugged, but he noted the ghost of a smile on her face, "So it's just Annie." She said, raising her hand in a gesture as if to say 'what are you going to do' obviously in reference to her kooky mother.

Castle gave her a genuine smile, "I have a mom like that."

The woman sniffled again and then shifted her eyes off Castle and back at Beckett, her smile dropping instantly. "Who did this?" He recognized this shift for what it was and sat back in his seat to allow Beckett to do the hard part.

"That's what we're going to find out." Castle heard the sincerity in her voice. He wondered if she used that tone on purpose or if it was something she didn't even know she was doing. "Annie, can you think of anyone who may have wanted to hurt Mr. Cooper?"

Annie shook her head, dropping her face into her hands and muffling her response. "He was a great guy, everybody loved him."

Beckett glanced over her shoulder to him and they shared a look; he knew she was also thinking about Chad Ferguson's words not long ago in the victim's office.

Beckett turned back to the woman and gave her a moment to mutter and collect herself. Once Annie looked back up she continued, "Harold Mason mentioned some threats that Mr. Cooper received. Do you know anything about that?"

"I don't think there was much to them." She responded, contemplating it a moment, "Angry criminals and bitchy women who were mad about losing their jobs." Castle was surprised by her sudden anger.

Apparently, Kate was too, because she didn't follow up immediately. After a moment she asked, "Do you know where he kept any records of those?"

Annie nodded, "He had an electronic file on his laptop and a paper one labeled 'cold cases'."

Castle appreciated the double meaning of the file, until he remembered the man had ended up as a corpse in the snow. The ultimate 'cold' case.

"Did you notice if he received any strange phone calls or if he was at all upset after a visitor?" Castle asked, hoping to move on from the poor word play in his head.

At first, Annie shook her head. She was back from the anger and now looking lost and forlorn. He wondered if this was the first person she had been close to that died, she was unusually upset for losing a colleague. Suddenly she looked up at him and met his eyes with a sudden realization on her face, "He had lunch with his wife last week, she was yelling at him in his office. I don't know what they were arguing about. His office is pretty much sound proof, so she had to be screaming pretty loud for me to even hear it out in the hall."

Beckett continued writing on her little notepad a moment and then looked up at Annie with a reassuring smile, "Aside from that did you notice if he was acting nervous or upset?"

Castle watched Annie's face become wistful, "He didn't get nervous." She said with pride and admiration, possibly a hint of something deeper. "He was like a rock. Wait no, no, don't misinterpret me," she clarified though neither he nor Beckett had changed their expressions or made a comment, "I'm not saying he was a hard man, he was very nice, but stable and unflappable." She defended unnecessarily.

They went through a few other basic questions and Kate gave the women her card as she showed them to the door. "Call me if you think of anything that might help. Anything at all, no matter how small it might seem to you at the time."

As they were leaving, Castle couldn't help himself as he watched the fragile looking woman and thought again about Alexis. He reached a hand out and reassuringly rested it on one of her shoulders.

Annie looked up at him with watery eyes and a quivering lip, the same expression Alexis had given him when she turned seven, and he felt his heart break a little for the woman. "Kate is the best detective in the city. She won't give up until she finds his killer." He said softly, ignoring the nervous flutter in his stomach that reminded him Beckett was probably going to kill him for stepping out of his place today. He gave the woman's shoulder a reassuring squeeze and graced her with a genuine smile, hoping she could find some hope in that.

She rewarded his effort with a shaky smile, "Thank you, Rick."

x.x.x

Climbing into the car, Castle passed his gloves to Beckett and this time she took them without even rolling her eyes. Instead of pulling into traffic she turned towards him, "What was all that?" she asked, and he couldn't tell, but he thought perhaps that was irritation in her voice.

He shrugged, and employed his best puppy-dog face, "I'm tired, Beckett, can we not do the 'follow my lead, respect the rule, stop doing whatever you want' lecture again right now."

He saw the quirk at the corner of her mouth and felt relief because if she was even slightly amused, "Wasn't going there, just curious."

He tried to shrug her off, but he knew that look. She wasn't going to give up, "When Alexis was six her mom called from L.A. to say that she was coming for her birthday. She was so excited and we set everything up for the perfect party. Not because Meredith would be miserable if it was anything but perfect, which she would, but because Alexis already had me wrapped around her finger."

She graced him with a smile that let him know she understood that implicitly and he returned it with a weak one of his own. His tired mind had taken him back to that day so long ago and he couldn't feel anything but what he had gone through with Alexis. "Anyway, her birthday came and her friends came and all the kids she played with at the park, a bunch of kids from school, parents and even her teachers. Everyone she knew who cared about her was there with her and the party was amazing."

He saw the expression on her face change with the tone of his voice. She knew his tones and moods and she was giving him a tiny smile, compassion for what she knew was coming written on her face.

He swallowed but when the lump in his throat didn't seem affected he tried clearing his throat before continuing, knowing that his voice would be lower than normal and a little huskier. He cursed himself again for not sleeping last night as emotions pooled so close to the surface when he tried to voice something he had never really talked about with anyone in detail.

To his surprise she reached across the middle of the car and placed a hand gently on his forearm, "Then her mom didn't show up and it didn't matter that she had all those people, it didn't matter that you were there. She was upset and there was nothing you could do about it?" she asked, giving him the chance to just nod in response and give her what he was sure was a pathetic smile as the misery of those hours washed over him.

She nodded and squeezed his arm, "And Annie reminded you of that?"

Another nod and his smile was more natural now, less forced, because she understood him well enough to let him have a moment of silence, "So, you're not mad?" he asked when he finally regained himself a little.

"Nah," she replied lightly as she finally checked and pulled out into traffic, releasing his arm, "I thought it was sweet."

"Aaah." He groaned loudly, "Sweet? That's right up there with 'nice' on the list of things guys don't want to hear a woman call them."

She turned a small smile on him, "You're right." He caught the hint of playfulness in her voice. Before he could get his hands up to cover his ears, he heard the dreaded words, "It was really nice, now that you mention it."

"She was totally sleeping with Cooper." He said, changing the subject.

"Yep." Beckett responded.

"That's so wrong when you think about it. That guy was almost fifty." Castle said, still thinking of Alexis.

"Really?" she asked, incredulously, "You're one to talk, Castle. Don't you prefer them about college age?" He glared at her silently, "And aren't you almost fifty?"

He gasped, but ignored the age joke, knowing that wasn't where the fun was, "I am not attracted to college kids. My ideal woman is experienced, beautiful, tall, authoritative, brunette, and possibly carrying a firearm she can threaten me with."

He watched her reaction and had to grin when her teeth closed gently on her lower lip and he knew she was fighting a retort. The last word again. Yep, even tired he was still up two points to nothing.

x.x.x

A/N: Darn this story! It has a drive to be written that I've never felt. This is a long chapter, but it wouldn't let me go. I'm still working on two stories at once, so all errors are mine.

I don't have time right now (with the two stories and all) to respond to your reviews, but I wanted to let you know that I appreciate them immensely and I love hearing whether I'm on the right track or not. Let me know what I'm not getting right, too, because that's just as important as hearing what you like.

Thank you all so much for reading.

Until tomorrow.