A/N - Thanks for all the favorites, follows & reviews. I'm touched by the amount of comments saying how much you liked Susannah's character. Don't worry, Rick will do right by her, but that's all I'm willing to reveal...for now. Enjoy.
The Commitment
Chapter 7
Do I Ever Make You Crazy, Beckett?
Kate Beckett finished getting the pertinent details of the murder from Lanie and the officers first on the scene. She motioned for Ryan and Esposito. With a last glance at Susannah, she met them by the dumpster.
"First," she said, "we need to bring this one home. Second, what do you have?"
Ryan began, "Other than the delivery guy who called it in, no one heard or saw anything."
"The delivery guy," Esposito picked up the briefing, "a one Jose Martinez didn't witness the attack, but just came across her body, apparently right after the murder. He delivers for Legendary Tony's Original Authentic Italian Pizza. He was returning from a delivery at the Bowman Building," he turned and pointed over his shoulder, "there on the corner."
"Hmm."
"What?"
"That's where Castle was, and so was Susannah. Get the name of Castle's attorney and canvas the office and the building. See if they have a security log or vid. We're looking for anyone who may have been waiting for her. I agree with Castle, this was premeditated." She surveyed the alleyway. "Speaking of Castle, did either of you see where he went?" They simultaneously pointed toward Lafayette Street, grinned at each other because of their being in tune with each other, and fist bumped. Kate rolled her eyes and walked the short distance to the corner. She found Castle leaning up against the base of an abstract modern art sculpture on Lafayette Street. He was resting his hands on his knees and his shoulders and head were slumped forward. She had seen the posture before: usually adopted by a friend or family member of the victim. He appeared to be out of breath, like he had run a distance. She also recognized that physiological response. She could tell him that what he was feeling and experiencing was completely normal given his relationship with the victim. She could tell him that. "Castle," she called as she approached him. He gave no indication that he had heard her. She got closer and tried again. "Castle, you okay?" Still nothing. "Rick?" He raised his head and blinked like he had just out of a darkened movie theater into the bright sunshine.
"Beckett? I…" He began, but his words failed him. Kate had reached him. She tentatively put a hand on his shoulder.
"Castle, I know this is tough, but you may have been the last person to see her, well," She avoided his gaze as she stumbled through her request.
"Alive," he finished dispassionately. He stared directly in front of him.
"Um, yeah." She chewed on her bottom lip; a nervous habit she constantly failed to break. "Castle," she said trying to make eye contact, but his eyes, which were bereft of spark and full of grief, were not looking anywhere apart from the sidewalk. "We'll need the name of your attorney and your statement. I also need you to see if you can remember anyone hanging around when you arrived and when you left. I'll also need any information you have on the problem she was having with the school."
"She left ahead of me."
"What?" She asked. She hadn't expected any answers from him at this point. She really didn't expect that he even was hearing what she was saying. He was showing signs of emotional shock.
He straightened his posture and inhaled deeply. He scrubbed a hand across his face, which still hadn't regained its color. "My attorney's name is Michael Roth."
"Castle…"
"He's a partner at Cumberland and Roth."
"Castle."
"Their offices are on the seventh floor of the Bowman Building." He pointed to a building across the street.
She grabbed his lapels, "Rick!" She said loudly, forcing him to look at her.
And he did. He looked at her as if he saw her for the very first time. She took a step back. He appeared nothing like the resident bad boy the photos on page six depicted. He was confused and upset and… lost. She had never expected him to show those emotions with or without the trauma. She didn't think he possessed that depth of empathetic and considerate caring, except when he was with Alexis. However, she was his daughter, surely his concession. That's not what she was observing at this moment. His breathing became shallow and rapid again.
"Oh…oh, god, Beckett…Kate…" he stumbled and tripped over his own words. He was recovering from the initial shock. He looked back down the alleyway. "Susannah," he said and then looked back at Kate.
"It's okay, Castle," she soothed. "Come on, I'll give you a ride home."
"But, Beckett, the case." He stood up straight, willing himself to overcome his body's reactions. "I, uh, I need to help figure it out, to solve it, for, for her." He could appear imposing when he wanted to, for instance when he wanted his way, like now. He towered over her, using his height to his advantage. He pled his case with his eyes.
"Castle," she swallowed and continued, "Look, you've had a shock, no matter what you think, you need time to recover. You're not doing her or me any good like…" She sighed. "Like this."
"I can do it, Kate."
"Tomorrow, Castle," she raised her voice, tiring of the argument, but then softened, "Okay? You can come in tomorrow."
"But, my statement, Beckett."
Beckett bit her lip. Damn it. He was right. He may have vital information regarding her last few hours. She closed her eyes. "Okay. I'll take you home and you can give me your statement there. Deal?"
He looked moderately appeased as he nodded. "It's only a couple of blocks from here." He looked south on Lafayette, shading his eyes from the sun with his hand. "I'm going to walk. I need to clear my head."
She regarded him and tilted her head. "Okay, I'll walk with you." She ducked back in the alley and tossing her keys, she said "Hey Ryan, when you're done here, drop off my car at Castle's loft. I'm going to walk him home." She ignored Esposito's rising eyebrows and returned to Castle on the sidewalk.
The warm spring day provided ideal conditions for walking. The late afternoon sunshine cast their shadows long against the asphalt and concrete. Castle was quiet. For all the complaining that Beckett did concerning what she considered as his constant and insipid monologue, she missed it. It had become like the secure and soothing background noises you grew up with. The hum of a furnace in the basement or the rattle of steam pumped through radiators. It could be annoying, but you missed it when it was absent. She glanced sideways at him. He seemed to have recovered from the initial shock; some of the color had returned to his face and his breathing had returned to normal. She pursed her lips and noted that he just looked sad. Kate preferred mysteries; the weirder the better, but she thought that she had already figured out the man walking next to her. She was discovering she wasn't close to solving the mystery that was Richard Castle. The tiniest of smirks appeared on his lips as she was, what, observing? No, she admitted to herself, it was staring. She had been staring at Castle for the last block as they walked and he had noticed. They arrived at his building and he waved at Eduardo not to get up as he held the door for her. As they walked toward the elevators, Kate nodded a greeting to the doorman who bowed his head fractionally. Castle stopped momentarily at his mailbox, emptied its contents and then pressed the elevator button. He let her enter the car first and she leaned up against the back wall. He stood at an angle to watch the floor indicator, but not so he stood with his back to her. It wasn't the first time that she noted his remarkable manners. If nothing else, Richard Castle was polite. He blocked the elevator door so she could exit and then passed her to unlock his door. She made room for him, but he came close enough that she could smell a wonderful combination of his aftershave, fresh air and coffee. His eyebrow lifted to that 'I've got something on you' level as he swung his door open. She ducked her head. Twice, she'd been caught observing him twice. She felt flushed, although whether it was from the walk or at her exposed voyeurism, she wasn't sure.
He stopped at his coat closet to hang up his overcoat. She'd noticed he'd chosen a dark blue, lighter weight coat today which highlighted his cobalt eyes and made them even more noticeable than they already were. He pulled out a second hanger and held his hand out for her coat. She fumbled with her buttons and when she had wrestled the last button free, he held her coat from behind as she removed her arms and then he placed it on the hanger.
He closed the closet door and crossed to his kitchen. "Can I get you something, Beckett? Coffee, water? I probably have whatever you want." He reached into his refrigerator and said, "I'm going to have a beer," and he pulled one out and screwed off the top. He looked at her inquisitively.
She sat at his island and shook her head, "No thanks, no beer, Castle. On duty, still. I'll take water though." He turned back to the refrigerator and produced a bottle of water. "Thanks," she said.
He opened it for her and when she picked it up he said, "Cheers," as he knocked his bottle into hers. "Where do you want to do this?"
She absently looked around his loft. "This is fine, if that's okay."
"If it's all the same to you, how about my office? Alexis knew Susannah and I would rather tell her than having her overhear our conversation. She's not home yet, but she will be soon." He led her across his living room to his office door. She felt, not for the first time, at ease in his space. She allowed herself a small smile. Leave it to Castle to have perfected the art of Fung Shui, or at least his decorator did. He opened the door that was situated between the open bookshelves. She wondered again, why he had a door, with the openness of the bookshelves. She walked across the threshold and sat in one of the armchairs opposite the desk. He circled the desk and sat in his chair.
He took a long pull on his beer and said, "Okay Beckett, ask away."
He stared at her, expectant. Kate was taken aback by the directness of his gaze. "Uh, alright Castle, you know how this works…"
He raised his hand. "I just have one question."
She made an impatient face at having been interrupted and then another exasperated expression silently giving him permission to ask.
"Are you going to be Beckett the hard-ass interrogator or the 'I'm annoyed with Castle' Beckett?"
"What?"
"Because so far, I can't tell." He picked up the beer again and finished it. "I'll be right back." He strode out of his office and back to the kitchen. Kate was trying to figure out what had happened when he reappeared with another beer. He sat back down but avoided her gaze.
Kate sat forward on her chair. "Castle," she began and he looked at her. "I'm not going to be either. I'm just going to be your friend." It sounded weak even to her ears. "Look, I know you're angry right now and hurting, but we'll get the guy. I promise." She held his gaze. Her eyes, soft and understanding, his hard and cold. He slowly inhaled.
"I'm sorry, Beckett. She was so young and so excited." He let the breath out and let his shoulders slump forward in his chair.
She looked at her hands and back up to him. "This is why I thought we should wait to do this until tomorrow."
"No." He seemed to gather himself. "Okay. Susannah Hamilton, um I think twenty-three or twenty-four. Not married, but I don't know if she was in any relationships. She started working for the school, uh, PS 86 as a volunteer while she was still at NYU." He paused to take a swig off his bottle. "She lives alone, I think. We never really talked about it, it's just the impression I got. She seemed to be well liked by her colleagues and students." He stopped talking and he rubbed his hand across his face. "God, the kids," he whispered. He stood up, walked to the windows, and absent-mindedly fiddled with the rigging on his model sailboat. "How do you tell a kid about something like this?" He gazed unseeing out of the glass door.
"Well, you don't." She was standing directly beside him. "The school will bring in counselors for her classes. The kid's parents…"
"Their parents?" He scoffed, "she couldn't even get a parent to come in for parent day. God she was so frustrated. Those kids are beautiful, but because they," he took a breath to calm down, "because they have been diagnosed with one syndrome or another, they're like damaged goods. Those people who call themselves parents hardly talk to them now. How are they going to help them?" He crossed back to the second armchair. "I'm going to go see them."
"Oh Castle. I'm not sure that's a good idea. You were involved with that program unofficially as a volunteer, right?"
"I can't just let them think…" he sighed. "Kate, they're going to need the stability of someone they know. Someone that gets them. You saw them. They're great kids."
Kate returned to her chair, reached out her hand, and placed it on his forearm. "Yeah, they are and this is going to hurt. Anyone could see how much they admired her and you, too, for that matter." He tilted his head, skeptical about the sincerity of her compliment. "Castle?"
"Yeah," he said as he was rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.
"Can I ask you something?" He looked at her, raising his eyebrows. "Why are you involved with this particular program?"
He had been wondering when either she or the boys would ask. People always did. Especially people who knew him. "Long term sales."
"What?"
"Long term sales. I teach kids to read or to love reading and eventually they'll buy my books." Levity and humor was how he coped.
Beckett wasn't buying. She pressed on. "Castle, you said this morning that you were one of them. What did you mean?"
"Beckett, there's no cryptic meaning, if that's what you think. I'm just an overgrown kid. I think like they do, I've been where they are." He stood up and headed back to his desk chair, stopping to pick up his beer and take a drink. He sat down heavily in his chair. Kate watched the years wash over the self-proclaimed kid and waited for him to speak again. "Do I ever make you crazy, Beckett?"
"Um, I don't think I can answer without incriminating myself."
He smiled. "Seriously."
She inhaled and admitted, "Okay, yeah, I guess so. Sometimes."
"How?" He had moved into the role of interrogator. His eyes steady and clear, his voice calm but serious.
"How Castle?"
"Okay, I'll help you. I touch things." She rolled her eyes and he smirked. He continued, "how about tapping my pen? Drumming? How about the talking? You can't deny that I can talk." He wiggled his eyebrows.
"You jiggle."
"What?"
"Your leg. You jiggle it, all the time."
He smiled. "Hmm, I don't think I realized I did that. When I was twelve, I was diagnosed with ADHD. Do you know what that is?"
She focused her eyes on her own forehead as she tried to remember. "I don't know what it stands for exactly, but it has something to do with being hyperactive."
"Something. It stands for Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder."
"You, you have that?"
"No."
"No?"
"Yeah, it was a mis-diagnosis. I write three hundred page novels and they seriously thought I couldn't concentrate." He scrunched his mouth in distaste.
"How did that happen?"
"A teacher thought I was too high-spirited and that I needed to be calmed. I was put into a," he made air quotes, "special class along with the dozens of other kids who had been diagnosed, labeled."
"What happened?"
"My mother." He grinned. "She had listened to all the experts and took their advice, but then I changed and she didn't like it." He took a deep breath. "The common treatment then was to prescribe medication to calm and focus. Except in kids who didn't need it, it had an opposite effect."
"Opposite."
"Yeah, if you can believe it, picture me, but with twice my jiggling. I was jittery and my mind went in a thousand different directions. It wasn't pretty. I did a lot of organizing and cleaning. I finally drove Mother crazy, so she brought me to a doctor who tested me pretty thoroughly. I didn't have ADHD then and I don't now."
She was listening and looking at him waiting for him to drop the other shoe.
"I don't have anything, but my exuberance, playfulness, and my ruggedly good looks." He flashed his camera smile at her. She laughed despite herself. "The other thing I have is an up close and personal understanding of these kids.' He finished the second beer. "That's why I volunteer for this program. Susannah didn't treat the kids as if their labels defined them. She never made them second best or damaged. She was making a difference in twelve kids' lives."
"Thanks for sharing that with me, Castle," she said quietly.
"You're welcome. So, now that you understand, can I get a free pass for all the things that annoy you?"
"Absolutely not. You get no special treatment from me."
"See, everybody said you couldn't be taught." He said with a bright smile. It faded as he asked, "What else can I tell you about Susannah?"
"The school problem and what you talked about with your attorney."
