Chapter 7

The first rays of sunlight reflected off the sparkles in the locks splayed over the pillow. "Kate," Rick whispered, "you have glitter in your hair."

Kate opened her eyes. "That would be your fault, it went everywhere when you pulled my shoes off last night."

Rick regarded it mischievously. "I like it. It's festive."

Kate regarded his face. "You actually have some on your nose."

Rick breathed in the aroma of cherries. "That's because I can't resist sticking it in your hair."

Kate's playful smile was full of all the things she wasn't saying. "You just can't resist me," she purred, pulling herself against him.

Kate had immediate evidence that her statement was true. Rick pulled her even closer as their lips met. Glitter clung to Rick's hands as they tangled in Kate's hair. As he met her in the most intimate closeness, the glow grew from within, expanding outwards until exploding in a shower of sparkling light, eclipsing any glitter ever made. The light receded as they rested, leaving only the shine in their eyes.

"Castle," Beckett noticed as they made their way to the kitchen, "I left glitter footprints."

"Don't worry about it," Castle told her, "I think the housekeeper is in today. Housekeeping!"

"Castle, I know that look. What have you got?"

"Beckett, we couldn't do anything with the footprint because we didn't know when it was made, but I think there's a way we may be able to find out."

"How?" Beckett asked.

"That orange stuff they throw on the floor at Mastco. A footprint would be swept up when they use it. We need to know the last time they used it before the murder."

"Castle, who would remember that?"

The answer came out of their mouths simultaneously, "Parker."

Beckett and Castle found Parker Boyd repairing the motor on a fork lift. "Parker," Castle asked, "do you mind answering more questions."

"Can I keep fixing the engine?" Parker asked.

"Sure," Beckett assured him. "Just answer while you work."

"OK," Parker agreed.

"Parker," Castle inquired, "do they sweep out the storage building the same way they sweep the shipping area."

"Yes."

"Did they sweep the storage area before the murder?" Beckett continued.

"Yes." Parker affirmed.

The excitement was evident in Beckett's eyes."What time did they sweep it the day Ernesto was killed?"

"Twelve thirty-six P.M." Parker answered.

Beckett and Castle looked at each other. "That would have been right before the end of first shift," Castle said.

Beckett smiled. "We've got a footprint from our murderer!"

"Thank you, Parker, you've been a big help," Castle told the young man.

"You're welcome," Parker replied and continued to work on the engine.

"Castle," Beckett asked, "do you remember the size of that footprint?"

Castle gave Beckett a list of disbelief at the idea that he could forget that kind of a detail. "It was an eight and a half."

Ever thorough, Beckett asked Parker his shoe size. Without missing a beat, he told her that he wore a nine. Making a round of Mastco, Beckett and Castle obtained sizes from the other suspects. There were two who wore size eight and half shoes: Bennie Ramirez and Jimmy Holt. Beckett called uniforms to bring both men to the precinct.

Beckett interviewed Jimmy Holt first. The wiry man shifted in his seat. "Mr. Holt," Beckett began matter-of-factually. "A footprint was found at the scene of Ernest Garcia's murder. It was an eight and a half. You wear an eight and a half. You have no alibi."

"I didn't kill Ernesto," Holt protested. "The kid was a pain in the neck, always asking questions, But I didn't kill him. Why would I?"

"Ernesto was looking into shipments that went out under a forged stamp. You had access to that stamp. Ernesto found out."

"I didn't forge anything," Holt said, "and even if I did, who cares? Management doesn't as long as we get shipments out on time. That wuss Bernie Rothschild might, be he doesn't have any juice. Ernesto didn't have any juice either. There'd be no point."

"Mr. Holt, right now we're getting a warrant to look at all your shoes, including the one's you're wearing. If you cooperate now, I can help you with the D.A.. If you wait until we find the shoes you wore to kill Ernesto Garcia, you go away for life."

"Knock yourself out, Detective. You aren't going to find anything because I didn't kill Ernesto."

"Did you get a warrant?" Castle asked Beckett, he closed the door on Jimmy Holt, who was still sitting in the box.

"No," Beckett answered, "but I'm going to, for Holt's shoes and Bennie Ramirez's. I'll make the call and then we'll see what Bennie Ramirez has to say."

"You could have at least let me have my books in here to study while you kept me waiting," Bennie complained as Beckett and Castle entered interrogation room two.

Beckett ignored his complaint. "Mr. Ramirez, any idea why your footprint would be at the murder scene?" Beckett asked.

Bennie's eyes widened and he scrubbed the palms of his hands across his jeans. "I don't know what you're talking about," he retorted.

Beckett stood, staring down at Bennie. "The killer wore an eight and a half shoe, your size Mr. Ramirez. You had access, you have no alibi."

Bennie squared his shoulders and looked up, meeting her eyes. "And you have no motive."

"If we match your footprint to the one at the crime scene, we won't need one," Beckett told him, leaning on the table.

Bennie leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Well good luck with that, Detective."

Both suspects were put in holding while their shoes were gathered and checked by CSU for a match. There was none.

"Damn it Castle!" Beckett exclaimed. "One of those two did it. I know it!"

"Maybe the killer got blood on the shoes and dumped them." Castle suggested.

"I thought of that," Beckett told him. "I have uniforms searching dumpsters now, but we need something else. Bennie is right. We need a real motive. We need to know what was in those shipments that someone would kill to cover up."

"Those shipments were going to Rotunda industries," Castle mused. "what do we know about them?"

"Nothing," Beckett answered. "But we're going to find out."

Rotunda Industries was privately held, making the information available online minimal. Beckett filed the paperwork to get their financials. By the time she finished, it was well into the night.

"Beckett, we're not going to get any more tonight," Castle said. "You're tired. Let's go home."

Beckett grudgingly agreed.

"I have a surprise treat for you," Rick said as he and Kate made their way into the loft.

"Really?" Kate asked. "I'm not in the mood for games right now."

"You'll love this," Rick assured her. "Put those beautiful legs up and I'll bring it to you."

As Kate lay on the couch she could hear the blender whirring. "That better not be one of your mother's youthenizing smoothies," she warned.

"Kate, you wound me," Rick replied mournfully, bringing her a huge glass with both a straw and a long spoon sticking sticking straight up in its center. "It is the Castle special shake, skim milk, strawberry ice cream and fresh strawberries, with one perfect, red cherry."

Kate used the spoon to scoop a little bit into her mouth. "Rick, this is wonderful. Where did you get the stuff to make it? You've been with me all day."

"Please! I texted the housekeeper. The produce manager has crush on her. She gets the best fruit."

Beckett smiled "Well let's hear it for love!"

Castle dangled the cherry into her mouth as she pulled it from its stem. "My very thoughts."