After stopping off at the weapons locker and grabbing a police issue taser, Beckett and Esposito headed down to street level. Beckett was excited to be hitting the streets again in search of clues and suspects. Esposito was excited because he loved working with Beckett. They shared a wavelength similar to a brother and sister.
Esposito slid into the driver's side of his Crown Victoria, while Beckett was relegated to the passenger seat. It was a different experience for her. Usually, she drove; she wasn't used to riding shotgun.
They took the opportunity to update each other on the past three months. "Not much to tell." Esposito said. "Me and Ryan have been trying to keep up with work. It's been difficult for him; I think Jenny is asking him for more time at home." He dropped his voice to a whisper, indicating he knew a secret. "I think they're trying. But don't tell him I said that." Returning to his normal voice, he said "I've been covering for him the best I can but… I'm getting tired."
"Didn't Gates bring in another detective to replace me?" Beckett asked.
"Nope." Esposito said, shaking his head. "How about you? Things good with you and Castle?"
"Yeah. It's…" She struggled in finding the right mix of words. "It's familiar… yet new at the same time."
Esposito looked at her. "Was it worth the four years of waiting?"
She smiled. "Yes."
He smiled back. "Glad to hear that. We're really happy for you." He made a sharp right as the car muscled its way through the chilly noontime air toward their eventual destination. He had something he wanted to ask her. It was easier being confrontational with criminal suspects than it was with Beckett. Talking relationships was out of the realm of his expertise.
"I'm going to ask you a question. And I don't want to hear 'I don't know what you're talking about, Javier', I want a straight answer. Don't play with me. OK?"
"OK." Beckett replied, confused.
Esposito paused. "When are you going to tell him… that you want to come back?"
She looked at him. He was right. There was no use in trying to sidestep, because it was a question that she'd been asking herself ever since this morning. She looked forward, down the street. "I don't know."
"Doctor Phil always says that communication is key to a healthy relationship."
"You don't watch Doctor Phil."
"I may… you haven't called in three months. Maybe I watch Doctor Phil from time to time." He laughed. "The point is… you'd been waiting for this storybook romance to finally manifest itself and you're already keeping something from him."
She sighed. "It's just that… I think this is what he wants. Me all to himself, ready to do whatever at a moment's notice."
Esposito had found the address and pulled into a parking spot. Shutting off the car, he made it a point to finish their conversation so they could be focused on the task at hand. "But are you truly happy?"
She paused. "Y… yeah." She said, unsure of her answer.
He pointed his face down, maintaining eye contact. Really? His expression said.
"OK. I'm happy when it's just us. But… sometimes I wish we could go back to how it was, working together. I miss telling someone that we got justice for their loved one." She swallowed, trying to defend her position. "But he's very happy. I think."
Esposito knew he had her cornered. "Beckett… believe me. That man is happy… when you are happy. He doesn't care about anything else. If you're not truly happy, then he's not either." On that note, he opened the car door, ready to head up to Ronald Kaminsky's apartment. Beckett sat for a moment, taking in their conversation.
"You coming?" He said to her through the windshield.
She unlatched the car door, got out, and closed it gently. The pair began walking toward a rundown apartment building. Esposito's phone began buzzing. It was a text from Ronald's parole officer. It contained the mug shot of Clay Eller, the man who had been harassing Ronald in prison. He showed it to Beckett. An African-American man, about 30, very short hair, protruding ears, and a big, toothy grin. He seemed like one of those people who enjoyed being in the slammer. He'd been locked up for robbery and assault, which was just the last of a long list of crimes he'd been arrested for.
Walking into the lobby, the stench of alcohol was pretty powerful. Not as bad as college dorms, but still very noticeable. It gave the entire building a seedy aura. Kaminsky's apartment was number 2F, on the second floor, so they decided to take the stairwell.
"So how do you know they're trying?" Beckett asked Esposito, curious about the details about Ryan and his wife, Jenny.
"He hasn't said anything, but I just get a feeling."
"So can you look at a person and instantly tell when last time they has had sex was?" She laughed.
He played along for laughs. "Sure. Didn't you know that? That's my superpower!"
"What does your spidey-sense tell you about me?" She asked.
"I am not allowing my spidey-sense to tingle about you." He said, stopping short of the top of the stairs. He heard a banging up ahead. They peeked around a corner and saw an African American man trying to put his shoulder into a door repeatedly, as if he was trying to break in.
He was standing outside a door that was about 15 feet away from Esposito and Beckett. They looked at each other, not really knowing what to do. Looking at the door numbers along the hallway, Beckett determined that the door they were looking for, 2F, was the same one that this guy was trying to break into.
Esposito got out his badge. "NYPD… stop…"
Before he could say another word, the robber looked toward them. They instantly recognized him as Clay Eller, the man whose mug shot they had just viewed on Esposito's phone.
"Freeze!" Esposito shouted, but of course, the man took off running to the other end of the hallway and the second stairwell.
Beckett pushed Esposito's shoulder back to the stairwell they had just ascended. "Lobby!" she said.
Without saying a word, he knew her plan. He would run down to the lobby, she would pursue the suspect and flush him right to Esposito. She began running to the other stairwell, hoping that Eller wasn't planning on doubling back.
Unfortunately, he was waiting for her just out of sight inside the stairwell. Once she was close enough, he jumped out at her and tackled her around the waist, slamming her hard against the wall. A wave of pain swept through her entire back.
She managed to get one leg up into his groin and push him away. He took a few steps back and both combatants readied themselves. He was smiling. She was focused.
He ran at her with his left fist raised. He swung, but Beckett dodged it, pushing his arm away with both of hers. Unfortunately, that left her vulnerable for a punch from his right hand. His closed fist met her cheek, opening a cut on the side of her face. She didn't have time to feel the pain, as she reacted more quickly than Eller had anticipated. He seemed to be gloating about his well placed punch a little too long, as he didn't notice she was coming right back at him with her right elbow. Like A-Rod smacking a first pitch fastball in the sweet spot, there was an audible crack throughout the hallway as Eller yelled in pain.
He stumbled backward, blood gushing from his newly broken nose. Apparently he'd had enough. He began to reach behind his coat for a weapon, but Beckett was faster. She aimed quickly and fired. Her taser probes embedded themselves into his chest. She pulled the trigger, sending 50 thousand volts of electricity into Eller, disabling his nervous system. He went rigid, convulsing ever so slightly, before falling backwards on the floor.
Beckett walked over and flipped him onto his stomach, forcing both his hands behind him and slapping on the cuffs. He groaned in pain as the shock of the taser wore off.
At this point, Esposito came huffing and puffing up the stairwell that Eller had been hiding in. He looked at Beckett, then down at Eller, then back to her.
She looked up at him, smiling. "What took you so long?" She teased him.
"Sorry. Outta shape." He replied. He pointed to his own left cheek, and said "You have a little…"
She touched her own cheek and pulled it away, seeing crimson red dripping down her fingers. Esposito offered her his handkerchief, which she used to dab away the blood on her cheek. "Thanks."
Esposito nodded to her before giving his attention to Eller. "Mister Eller! What a coincidence meeting you here. Looking for someone?"
Beckett placed her hand on Eller's back to push herself up when she felt something under his jacket. Pulling it up, she saw a handgun tucked into his waistband. Taking it out, she showed it to Esposito. "A twenty two."
"Boy." Said Esposito. "It's just raining coincidences here, now isn't it?"