I think this chapter is the one many of you have been waiting for! Happy reading!

Luke isn't exactly prone to patience. He tosses my bag in the trunk and before I can even get the seatbelt across my lap he's got us swerving between minivans and taxi cabs. I have to grip my hand around the edge of my seat just to keep from flying head first into the dashboard at every light. The coffee in the cup holder spills over the edge when we turn a corner and covers a leg of his pants.

"Careful," I say, gently squeezing his hand, "Your apartment isn't going anywhere."

When he nearly runs a red light, I assume he's just anxious to get home, but when he misses the exit to his place, I know I'm in trouble.

"That's where we get off." I whisper to him, trying my best to keep the tone calm.

He gives a little smile, "Relax, Kate."

My stomach turns at the sound of my own name. That's the second time today. One time can be a slip. But two—this guy wants me to know he's no fool.

"I thought we'd take a little time for ourselves tonight. Maybe take a boat ride."

"I'd really rather get home." I say.

"Why? Got papers to grade, Kate?"

I relax my posture and turn toward him, leaning my shoulder against my seat, "Only my Dad calls me Kate."

His shoulders remain stiff and his eyes on the road, "Castle called you Kate."

My flirty smile drains from my face. Damn it, Castle.

"Come to think of it-the docs and nurses called you Kate too. It seems everyone else has this crazy idea that your name Kate Beckett."

He looks straight at me, his face a bright red and his eyes wide, "Detective Kate Beckett."

I keep my eyes on the road ahead and let my hand reach down my side hoping it might be there. But I never did put it on this morning. I left it in the bag. My only pistol is sitting in a bag between my cell phone and dirty clothes.

"I looked you up, Det. Beckett. Google can be a magical thing. Three time Detective of the Year Award, four medals of honor-"

"I'm not into flattery, Luke."

He slams his hands against the steering wheel, "But in the whole World Wide Web, I didn't see anything about your "love" for American literature."

"Babe loved American literature."

"Yeah but you taught eight lectures."

I shrug, "Google can be a magical thing."

He pulls into a private driveway and stops next to a single dock on the water. A white houseboat sways with the slow waves of the ocean. The sunset reflects off the large front window of the boat and the water thumps underneath the bow.

"Get out of the car." He commands.

Luke walks around the car and swings open my door. In other circumstances, that would have made him seem like quite the gentleman.

"Can I suggest using something other than boat lines when you kill me? I hear that's been overdone lately."

He reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out a tiny black pistol. He clicks off the safety and aims it at my face.

"Out of the car."

I raise my hands and step onto the muddy ground. I feel the pressure of his gun against the small of my back and he leads me on board.

"So the Wiley girl." I say.

"What about her?"

"Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?" he says, pressing the gun harder against me.

"You know."

He opens the sliding door of the houseboat and we step into the kitchen area, "I'm not one for sharing."

"So if you couldn't have her, nobody could?"

"Something like that."

He turns me toward him and squeezes my shoulders in his giant hand. He leans his face in so close to mine I can smell the sweat dripping down his chin.

"That goes for you too." He says.

I take a deep breath and swallow hard, "I don't think so."

I shove my knee where it hurts him the most and he doubles over, groaning in pain. His gun drops to the ground and slides across the vinyl floor. I pick it up and force my heels against back of his knees, sending him crashing to the ground.

"Now that, I learned on Wikipedia," I say.

I push my gun into his temple, "Doesn't feel so good from the other side of things, does it?"

He looks up at me and scans the length of my body, "You wouldn't."

The bedroom door slams to the side soon a crowd of vest-wearing members of my team come rushing toward us. Espo leads them with his gun held out in front.

"Police! Stay down."

"I took care of that part." I say.

Espo crouches down over him and pulls Luke's arms around his back, clicking the cuffs into place.

I hold up the shiny gun, "Let's get this back to station to check for prints and powder analysis."

I set the gun down on the counter and it lets out a giant bang. The noise travels through the room and soon my ears are ringing. I can't make out a single sound and the strength of the shot sends me backwards against the wall of the boat.

I look around the room to make sure the team's okay. My eyes reach the floor and I see a pool of red. It flows like a slow stream onto the vinyl creating a puddle by Espo's feet. And then I see the source, a tiny hole through Luke's forehead.