Chapter 7

Sergeant Edward Pizalli was a barrel of a man. His broad chest puffed out as he stood with his arms crossed over his round beer belly; his thinning black hair covered less skin than his bushy mustache. He kept a bandana clenched in his fist, which he used to dab at the line of perspiration that kept appearing above his brow line. So far, none of the boys was impressed.

Castle glanced between Ryan and Esposito as the two detectives listened to the older cop's answers.

Pizalli didn't know what they were talking about. He never took a bribe from anyone. He had been on the force for 30 years, how dare they come in and accuse him of such a thing?

They seemed unaffected by the bravado, or the row of commendations on the shelf behind Pizalli's desk.

Ryan turned to his partner when Pizalli went to the records room to find Johanna Beckett's file.

"He's lying."

Esposito nodded.

"Yeah, no one filibusters like that unless they're hiding something."

Ryan held up his fist.

"Props for use of 'filibuster'."

Espo bumped his partner's knuckles with his own.

"What can I say, that word of the day calendar Jenny gave me for Christmas really comes in handy. It's amusing and educational. Never let that girl go, bro. You do, and I might steal her from you."

Ryan let out a snort.

"Like Lanie would let that happen."

"Lanie? I don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Like I don't know what's going on between the two of you. You have been making goo goo eyes at each other for years. You mean to tell me that you aren't sleeping together?"

"I..."

"Uh huh. That's what I thought. Look me in the eyes, bro, and tell me it isn't true."

Castle shook his head. Pizalli was going to be back any second, they had no clue how to break him, and these two were chattering on like teenaged girls.

"Excuse me!" He piped up from his spot in the corner. "I don't mean to interrupt the slumber party gossip, but what are we going to do about Pizalli?"

Both heads swiveled towards him.

Esposito's lips quirked into a smile before answering.

"Don't worry bro. We got this. We'll get your girlfriend out."

Castle huffed.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"You just keep telling yourself that," Esposito volleyed, throwing an arm over the back of his chair and facing Pizalli's desk.

"Just like you keep telling yourself that this Lanie person isn't yours?"

Esposito whipped around to face him, mouth open to answer, when Pizalli came waltzing back into the office.

"Johanna Beckett." The three men tensed in their seats as Pizzali slapped the file down onto the desk. "Died on January 9, 1999 when she hit a patch of ice and spun off the road. It was deemed an accident. It was late, chances are she fell asleep at the wheel."

The older cop crossed his arms over his chest once more as he towered over the trio.

It was Ryan's turn to speak up.

"We aren't questioning what the file says. We all know that story. We are questioning why it says it. Evidence has surfaced that Johanna Beckett was murdered in New York City on January 9 and that this car accident was fabricated to cover it up. The only thing is, if it was made up, then someone had to write it, and that someone would be you."

Ryan was standing now, his thin frame leaning over the desk, his arms braced on the surface. It was the first time he had seen the good-natured Irishman look every ounce the hard-nosed detective.

"So, the question becomes," Ryan continued, "When the story breaks and the truth comes out, are you going to be one of the heroes who helped expose it, or are you going to be one of the criminals going to jail for covering it up?"

Pizalli was glancing between them now, the bandana at his forehead once more.

"Because this story will break, and you are what, 5 years from retirement? Would you rather be spending those golden years with your wife or behind bars? You do remember what they do to cops in jail, don't you Pizalli?"

Pizalli gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing. His hand clenched tighter around the sweat-stained strip of fabric.

"You boys don't understand the wealth of trouble you are getting yourselves into."

He glanced among the three of them, his eyes narrowing to slits, a smirk growing across his face.

"Have they started yet? The phone calls, the shadows on the street? Have your homes been bugged? Because it will come, and you should be afraid."

The trio left the office a little more subdued, none admitting that Pizalli's words had affected him. Castle had the sinking suspicion that the cop's warning had truth behind it, and all he could think about were his daughter, his mother and the woman in "protective" custody.

He pulled out his phone and dialed.


"Hey." His greeting was soft, warm, when she slid into the cold metal seat across from him. "How are you?"

She shrugged, not feeling very talkative.

"Are you still in solitary?" He tried again, pushing the coffee cup he had set on the table another inch towards her with his index finger.

She nodded. Another week alone. She had started to count the tiny holes and cracks in the ceiling.

"How have the guards been treating you?"

Her eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled. She could see where this was going. She didn't need his pity, his small talk.

"What do you want, Castle?"

"I wanted to come see how you were doing. Give you someone to talk to."

She let out a mirthless laugh.

"I don't need your pity, Castle. You can go home."

"It's not pity. I wanted to make sure you were alright, maybe talk about something other than the case."

"Why? It's not like you care anyway. Once the book is done, you'll be gone. You don't have to pretend like you care."

Castle's face fell before she looked away, out her favorite barred window. No sun today.

It was better this way. Keep her distance. She didn't need something more that could be taken away.

At least he wasn't arguing. She chanced a glance at his face and found him staring at his lap, hands hidden beneath the table. Maybe he would admit she was right - rip off the bandaid. Then she could go back and brood away the rest of this day in her dungeon of a cell.

"Fine. I'll go, but here. Happy birthday."

He tossed the item onto the table in front of her and was out of his chair and striding away the next second. The door buzzed, but her eyes never moved as he disappeared into the grey hallway, the door banging shut behind him.

Her hand reached out after a long moment, and her fingers traced over the fluffy surface of the crocheted blanket. There was a card slipped inside. No envelope. A monkey was making some stupid comment on the front cover. She ignored it, flipping it open.

"I know it's not much - there weren't many things on the approved list I could bring you, but I thought this might help keep you warm. I'm sorry I couldn't wrap it. Hang on. Next year we'll celebrate properly, when you're back out in the real word - where you belong."

Her eyes slid closed and a single tear slipped down her cheek as she slouched in the chair. "We." He had said "we."

The door opened again and she gathered up the blanket and card in her arms, clutching them to her chest as she gripped the untouched cup of coffee in her other hand. The guard led her down the hall to her cell, eyeing the new possessions but not commenting. She walked inside and the door closed once again behind her. Curling up on the bed, she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and brought the luke-warm drink to her lips. Her eyelids drooped as the taste of vanilla and cinnamon washed over her tongue.

Why did he have to be so nice? It would be so much easier to keep herself from feeling… whatever was churning and swirling in her chest right now, if he were an ass. But they weren't really feelings; her head understood that they were a means to an end. That was all.

Now, if only she could convince her heart to believe it.


"Hey Dad!"

Castle couldn't help but smile at his daughter's cheerful greeting as he stretched in his leather office chair.

"Hey sweetie. How's school?"

He stared at the whiteboard as Alexis let out a pained groan.

"Midterms were a nightmare. I swear, sometimes I think they want us to fail, like it's all a game to them - survival of the fittest."

"Very 'The Hunger Games goes to college'. Better figure out a way to work the system, honey. I don't know if all that studying and playing by the rules will help you this time."

"Dad," Alexis whined, and Castle tried to cover the chuckle that slipped past his lips with a cough.

"How about this, come by tonight and we can drown our sorrows in giant bowls of ice cream?"

There was a pause of consideration on the other end of the phone.

"How many flavors?"

"How many midterms?"

"Five."

"Then five flavors it is."

"See you at eight Dad. I gotta run - meeting for that service org I signed up for."

Castle could hear the honk of a horn and a string of answering shouts from the other end of the line. He shook his head as he pictured his daughter running through rush hour traffic to make the meeting on time. Alexis, the responsible one. Raising her was the one thing he had managed to do right, and he couldn't fathom how.

"Have fun saving the world, Pumpkin, but remember crosswalks are there for a reason!"

Castle heard a distant 'I love you' through Alexis' laughter.

The line went silent and he dropped his hand, phone still clenched in his fist, to his lap. He turned his attention to the whiteboard, now half full. Pizalli had been no help other than to confirm their own suspicions. There was a deeper story - Kate was right. Now, they just had to prove it.

The phone rang again and Castle smiled, lifting the device to his ear without looking at the screen.

"You bailing on your old man already, kiddo?"

"Castle?" A whisper.

Rick shot straight up in his chair, his shirt bunching in his haste.

"Kate? Um, hi."

"Hi."

"What's wrong?" His eyes darted around the room as he searched for a reason, a weapon, a drink, anything. The newest bottle of scotch sat unopened on a shelf, as it had for the last month.

"N-nothing." The word was barely louder than her greeting. She let out a breath and her voice got stronger. "Nothing is wrong."

Kate had never called him. He was always the one to contact her through the warden to schedule a visit. They had never spoken on the phone.

Her breathing was heavy through the line and he could imagine her gripping the mouthpiece with both hands, a lifeline to the outside world. How many times had she spoken on the phone in the last ten years? Had she had Sunday conversations with her father? Or had they been too painful for her to handle? Did she have any other family, friends? They hadn't parted on good terms on her birthday. Her dismissal still stung.

"Okay, Miss Beckett, then to what do I owe this pleasure? Would you like to ignore me again? Maybe give me another riddle of a clue about your case?"

He hadn't meant to say it, to allow the bitterness into his voice. He closed his eyes as soon as the words crossed his lips. Her breathing stalled.

"I, um, I deserve that."

The devil inside his head agreed while the defiant little angel told him to give the woman a break.

"I just wanted to call... I don't have long... but..."

Her voice trailed off and Castle opened his eyes, finding himself staring at the picture of her taped to the board in front of him. The smiling face of a girl, barely an adult, staring back at him, eyes glittering. He turned away. That girl was gone. She had been killed in prison, in her place stood a broken woman who was robbed of her chance to be more.

"Time's up." A guard bellowed in the background.

Kate exhaled into the receiver.

"Purple is my favorite color."

Then silence.

He held the phone out in front of him, staring at the screen. His lips twitched up in a smile. That was probably as close to an apology as he would ever get from Kate Beckett. He felt like he should be grateful for the honor.

He tapped the edge of the phone against his lips, looked to the photo. The girl - the woman - smiled back at him. Fractured, not broken.

At least not yet. There was still a chance for her to heal.