He owes her two bags of Skittles by the time she e-mails off the security footage to Washington. She sits back into the mesh backing of the chair, putting the closed laptop on the table.
"It'll take him a bit to run it through the facial recognition database," she says, palming the Miss Scarlet piece before he can snag it. "Up for a fourth round?"
Castle shakes his head. "I'll admit defeat for now. But Beckett? With those skills, you could easily be a detective. I'd feel totally safe in a city you protected."
"Good to know if my current job doesn't work out that I've got a fall-back," Kate says as she folds up the playing board. "Hand over the wrench, Indy."
He slides the little metal piece at her. "What now?"
Kate shrugs, piling the board and the laptop up. "I'm going to watch TV. You're free to do whatever you want."
"Except not really." She glances over her shoulder as she packs the game away in the box left on the bed. "No room key to get back in here. I'm a prisoner in this hotel room."
"Drama queen," she mutters, stuffing one of the pillows under her chest as she flops onto the bed. She presses the power button of the remote and flicking to the correct channel. The title card for Temptation Lane splashes over the screen and she hears Castle groan from the door to the balcony. "What?"
"Temptation Lane? Seriously?"
Kate narrows her eyes in his direction as he sits near her hip. "Yeah. Shut up or get out."
The mattress dips as he rolls onto his stomach next to her. "You know," he says, resting his chin on his fist. "My mom was on this show."
She hums, already halfway pulled into the episode she has seen at least four times before.
"She was kidnapped a few times."
He seems to understand that her attention resides elsewhere because he quiets, becoming a silent body with his shoulder and hip pressed to hers. And then she forgets she has a companion in the room at all, losing herself in the familiar storylines.
Halfway through the second episode, Kate's phone vibrates across the bureau. She slides off the bed to check the new message. "Washington has our man," she says, opening her laptop and pulling up the e-mail. Castle crowds at her side, his head resting on her shoulder like this is what they've always done when viewing new evidence. Like they've done this a million times before instead of just once.
The file pops up when Kate touches the keypad. A thin man, his strength hidden under a lithe body in the photo with a face that borders on long; stubble covers his jaw and bright blue eyes stare at her from the computer screen.
"Hal Lockwood," Castle reads from behind her. "Doubt that's his real name."
She clicks out of the report with the scarce amount of information for a man of Lockwood's caliber and back into Washington's e-mail. Her boss came through, finding a signal from the man's cell phone. "He's on the island." Kate plugs the coordinates into a map, zooming in on the address. "Looks like a warehouse."
"We need to check this out," he says, getting to his feet and scraping a hand through his hair. "Now. Before he can move the jewels out of the state." He grabs the pair of socks he had discarded before their game of Clue and pulls them on, lacing up his boots.
Kate closes her eyes for a moment and tries to make herself believe that this is just another case. Another random file that Washington tossed at her with minimal instruction, the names unfamiliar and the bounty unconnected to her personal life. She copies down the address of the warehouse and closes the laptop with a snap. Knowing that the island will be chilly in the evening air, she changes into jeans as Castle calls a cab to meet them outside the hotel.
She doesn't bring the leather bag, slipping her phone and identification into her back pocket. Buried underneath a couple of sweaters that didn't make it out of her suitcase during her rush to pack is her ankle holster. Kate velcros it to her right ankle, securing the handgun under the hem of the denim and making sure she can still get to it without fumbling.
"Please tell me you have a thigh holster in there too," Castle pleads when he sees her practicing the draw. "That'd be so hot."
"Sorry to disappoint," Kate tosses back with a smile. "Left that one at home."
In the lobby, she has another key made for the room, giving the copy over to Castle as they wait for the cab. Her look says everything: I trust you. Don't screw this up. He only nods and puts the blue and green plastic card into a leather wallet that looks as though it has seen better days.
Parts of the city have brightened up, coming alive under the cover of darkness. Nightclubs flash neon lights that spill into the cab as they drive by. Sports bars border on noise disturbances with the cheers of baseball fans. More than a few scarcely dressed women walk the backstreets looking for work. Castle stays silent at her side when she asks the driver to let them out two blocks before the warehouse.
The area isn't the best. There aren't any working street lights and, as soon as the cab's taillights disappear around the corner, the night settles in around them.
"So," he says, starting in the direction of the warehouse. "What's the plan?"
"I don't know."
Three of her least favorite words. It was all I don't know after her mother was found murdered in the alleyway. I don't know from the cops at her doorstep, apologies on their lips and nothing in their eyes. I don't know from her father when she asked why he drank until he passed out on the kitchen floor.
But right now, she has no clue what the plan is. They don't know if Lockwood knows about the security footage of him outside the cultural center or if he has his own security set up around the warehouse, already alerting him to their presence.
"Play it by ear," she says finally.
A single light over the entrance to the warehouse makes the dead-end road look yellow and sickly as she and Castle stop at the corner. She steps forward carefully, using the mirror of a car to get a count on possible henchmen.
"Three guards," she whispers, her voice harsh in the shadow of a parked SUV. "Armed. I don't think we can take them out without one alerting whoever's inside." She rests her back against the navy crossover. "I'm open to dumb ideas here."
"Good. Cause I've got one." His hand brushes her side as he checks for his gun. "We're drunk ─"
"─ It's barely seven o'clock ─"
"─ and we're looking for our car," he continues as if she hadn't spoken. "Just follow my lead."
He loops his left arm around her waist and Kate leans into his side, letting him carry more of her weight than necessary. She stumbles over her own feet, nearly tripping him up as they start down the dead-end alley. Her giggle catches the attention of the guards, three heads turning in their direction.
"They're not buying it," he mumbles into her hair when she allows her head to roll onto his chest, her giddy smile wide so her warm breath moistens his pectoral through his t-shirt. She glances toward the men and sees two of them reaching toward their waists for their weapons, the other moving slowly toward a short flight of stairs to the warehouse.
Kate keeps the faux smile in place as she rocks into Castle's hip. "Shit," she mutters. "Okay."
She pushes away from him, letting herself half-run to a random car as if checking if it is theirs, the side of her hands pressed to the dirty window as she peers in. Castle snags her elbow, tugging her away from the sedan and back into his side.
"I've got the one on the right," she says quietly, turning into his body in order to free up her right hand.
"No time," he replies. "Just…"
The arm around her waist tightens, pulling her in front of him and, for a moment, she panics, her body a sudden shield between the men and Castle. His hand on her lower back keeps her against him when she jerks back once. The other hand slides into her hair, his thumb a hard line over her ear and his fingers curling into the dark brown strands.
She has half a second to figure out what he's doing, to read the plan in his eyes.
His mouth touches hers, gentle and soft. Her lips part in surprise, her eyes going wide before slamming shut as he cups the back of her neck and makes the whole thing a little less tender. He bites at her lower lip, running his tongue over the mark to soothe it. Kate whimpers into his mouth, unable to stop the sound as her hands come up to grasp his shoulders.
Castle pulls back, fingers stroking along her throat and shoulder. His eyes dart between her face and the men over her shoulder and she wishes that she could see the guards herself.
"Eleven and two," he says into her lips.
She barely hears him before she shoves herself up on her toes and kisses him again, her mouth open so that she swallows his sharp gasp. Her right hand slides down his back, finding the grip of his gun and flipping the safety off.
"Ready?" she asks, breathless and voice thin against his cheek. Except she can't get her eyes to open as his hand continues down over her ass, keeping her hips close to his.
He presses his lips to hers again, a silent reminder to focus. Then he drops his hands to her waist, keeping her steady as she spins. Her aim goes wide to the right on the first shot before she corrects herself and takes down the first man. The second has his gun raised by the time she lands the shot in the man's chest.
"Nice," Castle breathes. But he keeps moving, taking the gun from her hand and jogging toward the warehouse.
Kate draws her own weapon before following him. When she touches her tongue to her lips, she can taste him. The fading heat still there even in the chill of the night.
"Beckett?" he hisses. "Coming?"
"Yeah. Yeah," she says, jogging to catch up.
The third man has disappeared into the warehouse. Kate shoves the memory of Castle's mouth on hers down and pulls herself together as he leans a shoulder against the doorframe to the building.
"Count of three. I go high," he says without turning to face her.
She flexes her fingers around the grip of the gun. "One," she starts, not giving herself a chance to think about what might be on the other side.
Castle finishes the countdown, using his free hand to open the door. He swings in, letting her crouch down under his arm to cover the lower portion of the warehouse. A desk lamp on a table and a thin strip of light shining in from outside as a door across the building closes provide the only illumination in the otherwise dark space. Pallets of boxes could be hiding more men but she doesn't bother stopping to check.
His longer legs carry him to the opposite wall faster, shouldering open the door to another alleyway. Kate gets there in time to see a black sedan screech around the corner. She can't make out the license plate as it speeds out of sight.
"Damn it," she mutters, walking back into the warehouse.
It's a dead end. Lockwood ran off with her latest lead on the Charlotte jewels.
She wants to shoot something.
"Hey," Castle says, coasting a hand up her arm to squeeze gently at her shoulder. "We'll figure it out."
Kate doesn't respond, pulling away from his touch to pace the length of the warehouse. Adrenaline and frustrated energy vibrates through her body and walking around the building that holds no answers anymore isn't going to help. Swallowing down the disappointment, she secures her gun in the ankle holster and starts back toward the doorway they came through. She hears his shoes echoing in the room as he follows.
She's thankful he doesn't say anything.