Sinning by Silence
Summary – Post 7x09 AU. SPOILER ALERT – This chapter and those after have spoilers for the rest of season 7. What if Beckett's last visit to her old apartment didn't go quite as she planned and some old "friends" showed up to play. Still not light and fluffy like some of the fics out there. This is my interpretation of how some things play out.
Author's Notes: Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows. Your support really means a lot. 8 days and counting! Yeah! I was going to try to finish this this weekend, but that's not happening.
As usual, I don't own anything Castle, only my copies of the books and the DVDs.
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Chapter 10 – Ishmael and Isaac
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"That was a great piece of investigative work," Shaw said as she and Beckett rode the elevator up to Jerald Jr.'s office on one of the top floors of a skyscraper in lower Manhattan. "How did Castle make the connection?"
"Apparently when you want to 'find the dirt' on the rich and famous, you go to the 'sources of all knowledge' – their personal service providers," Beckett said, making air quotes as she channeled Castle.
"Personal service providers?" Shaw questioned. "That sounds rather nefarious."
"Personal trainers, hair stylists, makeup artists, nannies, assistants," Beckett answered as she rolled her eyes slightly. "In this case, it was the hair stylist that Mrs. Nieman used during the divorce."
"Really?" Shaw asked. "That was around 30 years ago. How did Castle ever find her?"
Beckett paused for a moment, making sure she got the connections correct before speaking. "The stylist Martha goes to is the nephew of a hair dresser who works for the Met who knows the make-up artist for the New York City Ballet who is the cousin of the woman who owns the bakery next to the beauty shop that the woman rented a station at."
"Wow," commented Shaw, nodding.
"Yeah, apparently they gossip like a gaggle of geese," Beckett said dryly. "And Bret's parentage was one of the hot topics back in the day."
Shaw nodded again as she watched the floors tick by. "So," she said, turning to look at Beckett, "now that you're one of the rich and famous, have you found your all-knowing personal service provider?"
Beckett smirked at her. "I am neither rich nor famous," she answered. "And yes, I have," she said over her shoulder as the doors opened and she walked out.
The reception area was wide-open, with an amazing view of the waterfront. The décor was all glass and metal, giving both a transparency and sharpness to the setting, its sole purpose to impress clients.
A young woman in a black pencil skirt and white button-down blouse sat behind the reception desk and smiled pleasantly at them when they walked up.
"I'm Detective Beckett, NYPD Homicide, and this is Agent Shaw of the FBI. We're here to see Mr. Nieman," Beckett said.
"Is he expecting you?" the woman asked, still smiling slightly.
"Yes, he is," answered Shaw.
"It will be just a moment," said the receptionist as she buzzed his office.
Jerald Jr. quickly poked his head out from behind the frosted glass doors that led back to the offices.
"Thanks, Cindy," he said and then looked at Beckett. "Detective Beckett."
He quirked an eyebrow at Shaw as he held the door open for them. "First office on the right," he said as way of direction.
Beckett was surprised to find that his office was not the one in the corner with the magnificent view but a rather utilitarian one at the front with no windows and the only office with a solid wood door in a sea of glass doors. There was another door on the opposite side of the room.
Jerald Jr. smiled slightly as he noted them take note. "I have an open door policy here, but there are times when I need to have a closed door, especially when someone wants to discuss new ideas…or changes they think need to be made. This way, the rumor mill doesn't run rampant."
Beckett nodded. "Mr. Nieman, this is Agent Jordan Shaw of the FBI," Beckett said as way of introductions.
"Agent Shaw," Jerald Jr. said, standing and holding out his hand. "Please, have a seat." He looked back at Beckett. "You said you have some more questions? Have you found out something about Kelly?"
"Yes," said Beckett, nodding. "But it's not about Kelly – it's about your brother."
Jerald Jr. looked at her askance and then shook his head. "I'm afraid you've been misinformed. I don't have a brother."
"Mr. Nieman, we know that Bret Stony is your half-brother," Shaw stated.
Jerald Jr. stared at them, mouth opened for a moment, and then nodded as if things were falling into place.
"That damn bastard. My father – not Bret," he quickly added, looking at them. "It all makes sense now – why he let Bret stay with us after Mrs. Stony died. He said he couldn't find any relatives."
"But your father never adopted him or became his legal guardian," Beckett added. Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she pulled it out to quickly glance at the caller ID, but all it said was 'unknown caller'. She put the phone back in her pocket without answering it.
"No, Mother wouldn't allow it," Jerald Jr. nodded, eyes narrowing in remembrance. "She never got along with Mrs. Stony – for obvious reasons now."
"Do you think your sister knew?" Shaw asked.
"Yeah, yeah – I think she did." He leaned forward slightly. "When she was doing her residency, she became interested in DNA. She wanted to test all of us, including Bret, but my parents were reluctant. Now I know why. She must have done it without their knowledge and then confronted them with the news."
Beckett nodded, frowning slightly. "There's something else you should know, Mr. Nieman." She paused. "We think that Bret Stony is Jerry Tyson, also known as 3XK, and we know that your sister is helping him."
Jerald Jr. paled slightly. "The serial killer?" he finally got out. "I thought he was dead – shot by police on a bridge several years ago."
Beckett shook her head. "He had planned that so we would quit looking for him. But he showed back up a couple of months ago along with your sister," she said simply.
Jerald Jr. slumped back in his chair. "It's all my fault," he said quietly after a few moments.
Beckett's phone vibrated again, but she ignored it. "I don't understand – why is it your fault? You didn't know he was your brother," she prompted.
Jerald Jr. shook his head, brow furrowing, a pained expression on his face. "But I knew something was wrong with him." He stood and started pacing. "When we were in scouts, we used to go camping at Hollander's Woods. There was a tradition of creating time capsules on each trip – something we could look back on later. We'd put something important in a shoe box that no one else was supposed to see and then we'd put the shoe boxes in a container and bury the container."
"And?" Beckett prompted.
"I saw what Bret put into his box one time." He stopped speaking and ran a shaking hand through his hair, and then looked at Beckett. "It was the park ranger's cat. It was dead."
"And you didn't tell anyone about that?" Beckett asked.
Jerald Jr. shook his head slightly as if to bring back the memories. "I did – I told my mother. She said she'd take care of it." He looked at them with slightly watery eyes. "They sent Bret to a military school that fall. I never saw him again after that."
"So you have no idea where he could be? Or Kelly for that matter?" Shaw asked.
Jerald Jr. shook his head again. "No, I haven't seen Kelly in years. She stayed with my father after the divorce and I went with mother." He thought. "The last time I saw her was when she graduated from medical school."
Beckett nodded as her phone vibrated again. "Do you have any contact with your father?"
Jerald Jr. nodded. "We meet for business once a month. He's a board member of my company."
Beckett nodded again. "So you don't know if he's had any contact with your sister?"
Jerald Jr. shook his head. "Not that he's mentioned."
"Do you know why the camp at Hollander's Woods was closed?" Beckett asked.
Jerald Jr. shrugged. "I'd heard that one of the neighbors didn't like having the camp there – apparently someone was vandalizing his property and he threatened legal action."
Beckett nodded again. "And what happened to the time capsules?"
"Uh, on our last camping trip there, we dug up the boxes and burnt them – sort of a way of finding closure," Jerald Jr. said.
"Thank you," said Beckett as she and Shaw stood. "And please call me if your sister contacts you."
Jerald Jr. nodded. "You'll be the first to know – after I call 911."
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"So who do we go see first – the father or the mother?" Shaw asked as they got into Beckett's car.
Beckett was about to answer when the car jolted slightly forward.
"What the—" Shaw said, turning to look at the car that had rear-ended them.
"Welcome to New York," said Beckett as she opened the door to get out of the car and confront the person in the other car.
She walked to the driver's side and then stopped when she saw who was driving.
"You're a hard woman to get ahold of, Detective Beckett," said Carlucci. "We've been calling you all morning."
"And the only way you could think to get my attention was to hit my car?" Beckett responded.
"Apparently since you and Mr. Castle ignore your phones. I have a message from Mr. Scarpella for him," Carlucci retorted. "That couple he is looking for – they were spotted by a cousin near Hollander's Woods this morning."
"Are you sure?" Beckett demanded.
"They matched the pictures," Carlucci said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business elsewhere."
Beckett pulled out her phone as she raced back to her car. She quickly dialed Castle's number, but it went directly to voice mail. "Castle, call me immediately when you get this. Don't go to Hollander's Woods. Nieman and Tyson were spotted near there this morning," she said and then hung up.
That caught Shaw's attention. "Isn't he there already?"
Beckett nodded as she dialed another number. "Espo, I need to get state troopers out to Hollander's Woods immediately. Neiman and Tyson are in the area and Castle's there."
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