Chapter Four

Two weeks had passed when Richard Castle got the phone call. He was sitting in his office, staring at a blank screen on his computer. He had not written a single word since Kate left, even though his publisher had badgered him about his latest missed deadline. He couldn't bring himself to find the words. His muse was gone, and whatever happened – whether Kate had made it to her final destination safely or not – she was never coming back.

If he was honest with himself, he felt a sense of relief when the phone rang. It gave him an excuse to procrastinate. He almost smiled to himself when he saw the words "Twelfth Precinct" on the caller ID. He picked up the phone casually, forgetting for a moment that Kate Beckett would not be on the other end, telling him where to find the latest dead body. It had become so habitual, so regular – that despite everything that happened, he still expected to hear her voice.

The worried voice of Detective Kevin Ryan broke Castle out of his fantasy.

"Castle." Ryan's voice was broken, uneven – as though something had lodged itself in his vocal chords. "You'll need to see this."

Castle wasn't sure how he got from his office to the banks of the Hudson River. His drive over was a complete blur. All he could remember was the gaping feeling in his stomach as the words Detective Ryan said over the phone repeated in his head: "Hudson River…body…Beckett…"

He rushed out of his car and across the broken pieces of gravel. As he approached, the familiar faces of Captain Gates, Ryan, Lanie, even Esposito came into view. Castle suddenly felt the wind knocked out of him. The entire scene reminded him of Montgomery's funeral. Under the cloudy New York sky, the dark police uniforms seemed black. Mournful. Everyone was gathered around the body that lay face-down in the dirt, the tide from the Hudson River lapping at her heels. Richard Castle gasped for breath as he ran to them, to her. He couldn't remember: was this how all crime scenes had looked in the past? Or was this one different, because they knew who the victim really was?

"What happened?" he called out.

The officers turned toward him. A wave of anguish washed over Castle. He could tell from the pain in their eyes that their worst fears had been confirmed: Kate Beckett was the body in the dirt, and they had no idea who had put her there.

Ryan and Esposito moved away, letting Castle in to see the body. Castle closed his eyes. A part of him didn't want to see, but at the same time, he knew he couldn't just walk away. He opened his eyes and looked down at the lifeless body before him.

She was wearing a black jacket and jeans – the same ones, Castle thought to himself, Kate had worn the night she showed up soaking wet on his doorstep. Her brunette hair was sprawled across her head and shoulders. Dried blood caked the scalp where something had hit her hard on the head. Where the skin was visible, there were lacerations covering her body. Her hands were bright red and swollen, as though they had been burned. Castle winced and turned away.

"I'm sorry, bro," Esposito murmured.

Castle inhaled deeply. "And you're sure," he asked, his voice cracking. "You're sure it's her?"

"That's what we think, but whoever did this burned off her prints," Esposito said. He glanced towards Lanie almost involuntarily. "So we'll have to do more tests–"

"I think I know what my best friend looks like," the medical examiner snapped back. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She sniffled, turning back towards Esposito. "I'm sorry. It's just…I can't believe she's gone."

Esposito nodded, placing his arm around her waist. Perhaps in any other case, Castle knew, Lanie would have refused Esposito's comfort, but now she let herself fall into Esposito's embrace. Castle bit his lip, remembering how Montgomery's funeral had brought him closer to Beckett. Why, he wondered, did it always take a tragedy to bring two people closer together?

"Dr. Parish." The firm voice of Captain Gates brought them back to the present. "I understand that you're upset, but we do have a homicide to take care of. So if you can't handle yourself, I'd be perfectly fine with having someone else look over the body."

Lanie shook her head, breaking out of Esposito's arms.

"No, I'm fine," she said, wiping away one last tear. "This is my friend, and if anyone's going to handle her, it's me."

Captain Gates raised an eyebrow. "You're sure?"

Lanie nodded. "I got a little emotional there, but it won't happen again."

"All right," Gates said. "Then let's get this body to the morgue and make sure we know who it really is. And Detective Ryan, canvass the area again and see if anyone saw anything."

"Sir," Ryan spoke up. "What about Castle and Esposito? Can they help?"

Gates bit her lip. For a moment, Castle thought she might show some compassion for the situation.

"No," Gates decided firmly. "Detective Esposito is no longer a homicide detective of the NYPD, and Mr. Castle never was. If this is indeed one of our own, then this investigation needs to be made top-priority. We can't have rogue investigators coming in and breaking procedure."

She paused for a moment, her expression softening.

"Look, I know she was your friend," Gates finally said, "and believe me when I say that I will have my best people on this case. But those are the rules, and I can't make special exceptions – especially in a situation as important as this. Understand?"

"Yes," Castle found himself saying. "Of course."

He ignored the looks of shock from Ryan and Esposito. Castle knew what they must be thinking: he was always the first one to go rogue. But this time, he couldn't risk it. Digging too deep into a case had gotten them into this mess to begin with. It had unearthed answers that maybe they never should have found.

Castle was sure of it: this time, Gates was right. They needed to stay out of this.