Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or the characters used in this story.
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Friday ~3:30 PM
We need to talk. Beckett texts Castle from the stairwell. She's surprised to receive a reply of Ten Minutes? almost immediately. She thought he was sitting in on classes in the afternoons. Maybe Fridays have an abbreviated schedule, or maybe he's just bored.
Sneaking up to the storage room and getting set takes nearly all of her time, so she's just getting settled when the burner phone rings. Beckett hits connect and holds the phone to her ear, happy that without the boys she doesn't need to bother with the speaker.
"Hey, Castle," she answers, trying to sound as cheerful as possible under the circumstances.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Castle fires off immediately. She should have known that he'd not be fooled by her false tone.
"I'm okay, everyone's okay. Well, not everyone. Barrington's dead. So is Thresh." Beckett reports.
"What happened?" Castle asks with a tone of confusion.
"Castle, how did you know about LDS?" Beckett asks. If Castle is thrown by this turn in the conversation, he doesn't let it affect his reply.
"Poker. I used to play in more high-stakes games than I have lately, and met some members at the tables. A couple of them suggested bringing me in, challenging the three-generation requirement or even faking my paternity to link me to a family that could get me in," Castle explains. "But I wasn't kidding last week – it's not really something I'm comfortable with. I didn't push to get in and they recognized my disinterest. Why do you ask?"
"Because I think they killed Barrington and Thresh. I'll never prove it. I can't even speculate on the record or in my reports. But I think they did it," Beckett admits, and prepares for the glee with which Castle will respond to her confessed belief in a murderous conspiracy.
"Why do you think that?" he responds instead. "Want to tell me what happened, talk it through?"
"Barrington ate a gun at the desk in his study," Beckett starts, pleased by Castle's sincere interest. "One shot, through the roof of his mouth and out the back of his skull. No chance of survival," Beckett says. "He left a note. It explained that he'd met Menendez's sister at a bar and had a torrid affair, threatened her to stay quiet when he broke it off and roughed her up to drive the point home. Menendez found out about it and tried to go after Barrington. They fought, Menendez lost. Wracked with guilt over killing Menendez and betraying his wife, Barrington put his affairs in order and then blew his own head off."
"You don't believe it," Castle infers from Beckett's tone of voice and uncharacteristically abrupt word choices.
"No, I don't," Beckett says. "Oh, the note is his, and the evidence points to him for Menendez. But I think the story's a lie. I don't think he met her at a bar and I don't think he felt any guilt about beating her or killing her brother."
"I saw Kyra yesterday," Beckett continues, sure that the abrupt jump in the conversation would signal her frustration and unease to Castle. "She did hand-deliver the files. She says 'hi' and wants you to give her a call."
"See that, Beckett? Only two weeks of training and I've already dodged a bullet. This place is paying off," Castle says, using humor to protect them, as usual.
"The files confirmed that Barrington lied about his client meetings and gave us enough to approach him and LDS," she said, containing herself.
"You did it, didn't you? You walked right up to a secret men's club and started pounding on the front door," Castle chortles with proud glee. "Oh, how I would have loved to see that."
"Yeah," Beckett says happily, "I wasn't cowed by the testosterone." Sobering, she continues. "You can guess how the actual interview went – denial of any society, denial of any membership, no knowledge of Barrington or Menendez, and the appearance of about five lawyers within five minutes. I got kicked out shortly thereafter."
"And went to see Abe Menendez's sister?" Castle asks.
"Exactly," Beckett says, content that her partner anticipated her steps. "She still looks bad – the black eye wasn't really visible, but she moved gingerly enough to suggest that some of her injuries still have a while to go before healing. You'll never guess what she had to say."
"Let's see," speculates Castle. "She would have confirmed the affair, and the abuse, but been vague on the details of where she met Barrington or where they went for their trysts?"
"Those classes are serving you well, Castle," she says, trying for humor herself. "They met at 'some bar,' went to 'some hotels' to spend time together. She's never heard of LDS or been in the neighborhood in which we found her brother 'for some years.'"
"So, you think that someone from LDS sat down with Barrington and explained to him what would happen from the attention he brought to the Society? That they pressured him to take a drastic step and paid off or threatened the sister to keep quiet?" Castle guesses.
"Barrington has a son. He's a young cardiothoracic surgery resident at Presbyterian," Beckett says. "If Barrington's in LDS, then his son probably is, too, or will be soon, given the whole 'family line' thing they have going. That sounds like an extra pressure point the Society could have used in explaining to Barrington that he needed to clean up his mess in a way that kept LDS out of the spotlight."
"And if Barrington's out of the frame, then the only one left who could tie any of this to LDS is Menendez's sister," Castle follows. "Who has just seen her brother killed by an LDS member who died himself shortly thereafter. I imagine that she'd be pretty easy to intimidate right now, though LDS was probably smart enough to couch it in terms that couldn't be used in prosecution, probably dressed it up with some hush money," he speculates.
"You forgot somebody," Beckett prompts.
"Thresh. They had to track down how you tumbled onto Barrington, and somehow they found out about Thresh. Was he another 'suicide'?" Castle asks.
"Maybe. He OD'ed," Beckett answers. "They found him at a flophouse in Brooklyn. Lanie said that he's so full of puncture marks that it's impossible to tell if one of them was administered involuntarily. So, he either took care of the problem for them or LDS helped Thresh to his final high."
"So it's all tied up – your Menendez case closes because of Barrington's letter and there are two 'suicides' in the morgue. To avoid joining them, the sister will stay silent. I'm sorry, Kate," Castle consoles her.
"It's closure, but not justice," Beckett laments. "This all started with Barrington's actions against Menendez's sister, and she's left under threat by LDS and with her brother dead. And LDS protects itself by at least encouraging if not orchestrating two more deaths."
"We'll keep an eye on them," Castle says, "but we should be wary. And I need to call Jennings to give him a heads up on what happened, tell him to watch himself."
Beckett releases a frustrated sigh. "I want to be back on the right side of the looking glass, Castle. I don't want to live in a world where conspiracies can bully people into killing themselves, where they provide a haven to killers and adulterers, where they might include people I know and respect professionally. And this is just one group in New York! It kind of puts our other project into perspective," she says, alluding to their efforts relating to Bracken.
"Kate, do you remember what I said about my dinner with Sheila?" Castle asks, but doesn't wait for a response. "'Always the optimist.' I'm not sure I'm that way by nature, but I've found that I like myself, my life better when I choose to see the good side of things. Conspiracies, excoriating book reviews, flighty or intrusive ex-wives, partners who pretend to have forgotten heartfelt but poorly timed confessions of love – these things can get you down if you let them. It doesn't mean that there aren't good reasons, good people out there."
"Castle, I …" Beckett starts, but isn't sure how to continue given the unrelated and unanticipated bomb that he just dropped on her head.
"Don't worry, Beckett," Castle laughs. "I'm not going to bust your chops about it now. I just needed to shock you a little bit. You've run into something dark and depressing. You're in the pits now, but I know you. I know that you'll turn your anguish from this case into motivation. I know that it doesn't help Menendez's sister. But using it to help fuel justice for someone else is still a good thing. A beautiful thing."
"Thank you, Rick," Beckett says, choked up both by his faith in her and for his defusing the reckoning about his graveyard confession that was becoming an increasing weight on her. "Like you said before, I didn't realize I needed to hear that, but I feel better now."
"My pleasure, Kate," Castle says sincerely. "What are you doing this weekend?" Switching to a playful voice, he continues. "A bunch of the Feds-in-training are going dancing tomorrow night. I was thinking about writing, but I could show you a move or two if you wanted to come down."
"That sounds wonderful, Castle, but my dad and I are heading up to his cabin in the morning. Your, um, comments from the other night made me realize that I could do with spending a little more time with him," Beckett confesses. "Maybe next weekend?"
"Sorry, Beckett, but I'm spoken for next weekend," Castle crows a bit.
Screw this, Beckett thinks. He wants some signal of things to come? Time to figure out where things stand. "With Britton?" she asks directly.
"No, not Dani," chuckles Castle. "A beautiful redhead that I know. Stunning blue eyes, with a California tan."
"Meredith?" asks Beckett with a coy smile.
"No! Good lord, Kate, bite your tongue," comes Castle's affronted response.
"Oh, but Rick, what if I'd rather bite yours?" Beckett purrs, thoroughly enjoying kicking the banter up a notch. She feels wild and a little dangerous, vastly different than her mood just ten minutes ago.
"You know, Kate," Castle says in a smooth voice, playing along, "your 'Bite me, Castle' rejoinders are going to invoke an entirely new set of images from now on."
"I'm sure that your new images will be no more lascivious than the ones they replace," Beckett hums.
"I will do … nearly anything, if you'll say that word, that way, again," Castle rumbles in her ear.
God, she misses this, misses him. Maybe she should just tell him that, she thinks. "When are you going to get your ass back up here?" Hmmm, not exactly the most alluring way to reach out, she realizes.
"I'll be back a week from Sunday," he replies. "I wasn't kidding – Alexis is flying from LA to DC on Saturday, so that we can spend some time together before her school vacation ends. It's one of the reasons I drove down, so that we could have the time together on the drive back. She usually needs a little extra attention when she comes back from visiting Meredith."
"That's sweet, Rick," Beckett says. "We girls always need some time with our dads."
"Yeah?" Castle asks. "I'm glad to hear that she might not grow out of it."
"Speaking of girls who want to spend time with you…" Beckett drawls out, taking the opportunity to divert the conversation.
"Oh, this sounds good! Tell me, who's queued up?" Castle asks, and Beckett can see his eyebrows wiggle in her mind's eye as she hears him clap and rub his hands together.
"Captain Gates, of course. Why, who did you think I was talking about?" Beckett asks with false naivety. "She ventured out of her office and into the bullpen to ask if we knew what you were up to. She didn't look pleased to hear that you were at Quantico. She wants you to give her a call. There might be something to your crazy theory and prediction after all."
"Please, Beckett, there's always something to my crazy theories. Well, almost always. Sometimes?" he chuckles as he rolls back without prompting. "At least occasionally. That's as low as I'll go."
"'Occasionally' works, maybe 'sometimes' on a good day, though I'll never admit to saying it," Beckett smiles.
"So, Captain Gates is looking for me, eh? Interesting that she appears out of the loop on the FBI side of things," Castle muses.
"We were thinking the same thing. If she was put up to the press conference, it looks like she doesn't know why. It's some support for your other theory – it would've needed to be an order or request from someone up the chain for her to have done it without knowing why," Beckett answers.
"Unless, of course, this is all wrong and she just threw me under the bus figuratively because she hasn't yet found a way to do it literally," he says with another chuckle.
"That's always a possibility," Beckett agrees, "but that suspect pool would be more like an ocean."
"Nice, Beckett. Actually, since we're in the neighborhood, can I ask you something about our other project?" Castle starts tentatively. "I don't want to spoil the mood, but I do want us to get comfortable talking about this, working together on the most important project."
"Yeah, Castle, you can. It's something I've been thinking about, too, and I want to try to do this right," Beckett notes. "It's something I need to get comfortable with."
"Maybe this can be a place to start. Well, you've probably already thought about it, so this might be nothing but me playing catch-up. There was an early line of thought that I followed but it got me nowhere, and I'm wondering if I didn't give up too soon, or looked in the wrong place," Castle says.
"I'm all ears, Castle," Beckett replies. "We're on the burner phones and I'm alone in the storage room."
"It's about the two dealmakers," Castle says obliquely. "We know why the first one didn't go public with the information. But why didn't the second?" Beckett nods, having thought about this same question: why did Smith make the elaborate deal, rather than simply turn the files over to the authorities, even anonymously?
"Maybe out of fear of retribution?" Beckett speculates, "Or maybe for the same reason as his predecessor – he's involved, or would be compromised if it went public."
"I've been thinking the same thing, especially the latter point," Castle replies. "But everyone else we know who was involved with the first dealmaker is out of the picture. And if they weren't out of the picture, they would be an obvious target. So, who would have been close enough to see what was going on, potentially be tainted by it, but still be outside the notice of the chief?"
"It's something I've been thinking about, too," Beckett confirms. And she has. Who is Smith that Roy would have trusted him, that he'd be willing to strike the deal with Bracken, the "chief," to keep Beckett safe, but wouldn't be willing to act directly against the chief?
"I know we're supposed to start with the largest suspect pool and winnow down from there," Castle says, "or at least that's what my fancy federal manual suggests. But I've been thinking that the opposite approach might work better for us."
"Of course you have, contrarian," Beckett laughs.
"A-hem. Anyway, we can't boil the ocean, and there are too many unknowns to take the conventional approach. I was thinking about working bottoms up rather than top down," Castle suggests.
"So, we target specific individuals and build up from there? No, not people," Beckett corrects herself, "but groups."
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking. We have at least four groups that seem like potential starting points for dealmaker number two. The precinct," Castle starts.
"The DA's office," Beckett continues.
"The public defender's office," Castle says.
"And criminal defense law firms," Beckett concludes.
"Exactly," Castle responds, sounding happy that they're treading the same path. "There are other possibilities – the media, court personnel, someone that intersected on the personal rather than work side, probably more. But I think the four we have are the most likely."
"Which means we should start with the public defender's office?" Beckett suggests. "Like you said earlier, it's hard to imagine that the new dealmaker would be unknown to the chief if he was in the DA's office. And we've run low on precinct survivors," she continues with some remorse. "And given his lack of seniority at the time, it's more likely that Montgomery was dealing with appointed counsel rather than expensive defense attorneys."
"How good is Tori?" Castle asks.
"Are you thinking that we should hack in to get the old personnel files rather than request them? That's probably a good idea, except that it brings her into our group and puts her at risk, too," Beckett says. "Maybe I could have Espo feel her out."
"That's really not a good choice of words to use there, Kate," Castle suggests.
"What? Why wouldn't… Are you serious? Espo and Tori?" Beckett asks. Oh, this wouldn't be good. She doesn't know if Lanie knows, if she cares, or if she's on or off with Esposito these days. And what about Elena Martinez, whom Esposito had been checking out? Maybe they are living on Temptation Lane.
"I don't know that it isn't anything more than a mutual admiration society right now," Castle says. "Turns out it is pretty easy to spot when you're not one of the people involved," he laughs.
"Presumptuous," Beckett chuffs, and Castle laughs again.
"Anyway, maybe you should ask the boys about Tori when they're together. I know some guys who could hack in for us, but I'm not sure that I'd trust them to stay quiet afterwards. If Tori can do it and is willing, she'd be the better choice," Castle suggests.
"Okay, I'll bring it up when we're in a good place to talk about it," Beckett agrees.
"Thanks, Kate," Castle says with a tone of genuine gratitude.
"For what?" Beckett replies. "For working on my own case?"
"No, for working it like a regular case, for working with me and thinking about bringing in the help we need. I wasn't sure about whether I should hope for this to go smoothly," Castle admits. "But I'm encouraged. This feels right."
"It does, Rick, it does," she confirms. What surprises her is that she doesn't need to exert any Herculean effort to share her thoughts on this case, or to fight back her instinct to blaze ahead alone. The eruptions Friday night and the conversation on Saturday feel like a turning point for her, and she's tentatively optimistic about making things work, both for her case and herself.
"Are you going to mention any of this to your dad?" Castle asks with some trepidation.
"No. It's too early and would only put him at risk," Beckett says, and realizes that her willingness to share ends with Castle and her precinct family. "We're just going to have a quiet weekend to unplug and reconnect."
"That sounds perfect, Kate," Castle says. "Take a weekend to just enjoy each other's company. Let me know if you need anything, otherwise I'll do some studying and get some writing done so I can have the same kind of time with Alexis next weekend."
Saturday, ~9:30 PM
"Castle," he answers, sounding a little tired.
"Hey, Castle," Beckett says softly. "You busy dancing?"
"Nope, I was social yesterday," Castle responds, "Today's been a long day of just studying and writing, but I'm slowing down, kind of stuck for tonight." Even though he's alone, his voice lowers to match Beckett's tone. "Everything okay?"
"Everything's fine. Good, even," Beckett says. "We had a good day. Dad's turned in, so I'm trying to not wake him. How's the novel coming?"
"Really well. Or, at least it feels like it. The words are flowing, as to whether they're any good, I'm still too close to it to tell. But it feels like I'm making progress," he replies with uncharacteristic humility.
"I'm not going to ask any questions about it, but only because I don't want to ruin any surprises," Beckett says. "I'm looking forward to reading it."
"You're already down for the first pre-production copy. It's in the contract with Davison," Castle says. How ridiculous, Beckett thinks, that a line item on a book contract nearly brings tears to her eyes.
"Thank you, Rick," she says, hoping that her voice conveys how touched she is by his gesture, especially since he set it up before their recent discussion. "I should go – we're going for an early hike in the morning. But I wanted to do this right this time."
"Do what right?" Castle asks, confused.
"I told you I'd call you. I didn't think it would take this long, and I didn't mean for it to happen this way. But, like I said before, I'm trying to get better and you deserve better," she says in a quiet but insistent voice. "So, I wanted to call you from the cabin to tell you that I'm doing well and that I'm looking forward to seeing you again."
"That's … thank you." Castle says warmly, though he also sounds rushed for some reason. Beckett wonders if she's overstepped, until his parting shot. "Go get some rest, Kate. It turns out that I'm good for at least another chapter tonight."
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