TEN
Sitting at her desk on that chilly November morning, Kate pulled her blazer tighter around her body and tugged her sleeves all the way down over her wrists. For some reason, the precinct seemed extra drafty that winter. Then again, perhaps because October had been atypically warm, the heat just had not regulated itself yet. If that was the case, she wished for it to quickly balance itself out. Otherwise, she'd need to bring in a blanket for her desk.
After rubbing her hands together in an attempt to thaw them, Kate moved her fingers back across her computer keyboard to finish filling out her warrant request. She sighed out as she tapped the "submit" button with her mouse cursor, hoping that this would finally solve her case so the killer could be brought to justice. Glancing into her coffee mug she saw it was down to the dregs and screwed up her nose in displeasure. She picked up the item, stood from her desk quickly, and spun around only to stumble back a step, shocked at who she saw cautiously exiting the elevator and looking out of place while standing in the hall.
"Rick?"
His eyes fell on her and his face instantly relaxed into a smile. Then, he gave her a little wave. Regaining her footing, she approached him with the coffee cup cradled in her hands. "What are you doing here?"
"I got some fun news and I wanted to share. Is that okay?"
She nodded. "Sure. Come with me to the breakroom, I need some-"
"Coffee?" He held up a white Starbucks takeaway cup as a grin spread across his face.
Kate's eyes widened and she let out a slight laugh as her hands slid around the cup. She had been so shocked to see him that she had focused only on his face and to that point had not noticed what he carried in is hand. "I—oh. Thank you! This is exactly what I need right now."
He dipped his chin in acknowledgment and then gazed around the space bustling with men and women in and out of uniform, some leading around handcuffed perpetrators, others carrying stacks of files. "So…this is where you work."
Kate hummed as the delightful vanilla taste swirled over her tongue, slipped down her throat and warmed her from the inside. Yeah, precinct coffee would never, ever tastes that good. "Yep, this is it. I'd give you a tour but there isn't much else to see unless you want to go to interrogation."
He quirked up the left side of his lips. "Thanks but once in a lifetime was more than enough for me."
She gave him a double take, shocked at his implication. "The New Hampshire P.D. put a victim in interrogation?" Had she been part of the team that found him, she would have never, ever done such a thing—especially to someone with his history. He'd spent the better part of a decade locked in a barn; the last thing he needed was another windowless room.
"In fairness, I think they were trying to shield me from everyone. Their conferences rooms were glass like these. Maybe they didn't have blinds?" He guessed aloud then shook his head. "Not sure, it's kind of a blur. I only specifically remember being in interrogation and feeling very cold."
She reached out and stroked her hand down his arm. "Then why don't we just go and see my desk?"
When his smile returned, she led the way, setting her now rejected coffee mug off to the side of her desk and continuing to cradle the take-away cup warming up her hands. "Nothing too fancy—just a desk and a computer, but at least I have a guest chair."
"May I?" he asked, nodding to it. She smiled at him and they both sat. He leaned his elbow against her desk and continued with his news. "Guess what I found out today?"
She set her coffee down and mirrored his posture asking, "What?"
"They're going to start designing the cover for Flowers for Your Grave and I get to help!"
She could not help but smile at his child-like enthusiasm. He sounded as though he had been provided a rare and exciting gift. Yet, in reality, she would have been quite shocked if the author of a book had not been permitted to aid in the design of his book cover; it only seemed logical. "That's great, Rick; very exciting."
"It is! But really complicated, too. Like, it's not just the background image, but the font style and the color of the font and the position of the font—it was easier to come up with the story!"
She chuckled, sure he was being facetious. "Well…white on a darker background always pops—if that's what you want. It's your book, though."
"Would you like to come see the mockups they set me? I'd really appreciate a second opinion; I think they want a decision sooner than later."
Kate nodded. The quick deadline made sense given that his book was schedule to go to print early the following year. As the manuscript had been finalized, the cover seemed the next natural step. "Sure, I'd be happy to. I'm not sure it will be tonight, though. If so, it'll be much later; I'm in the middle of a case." She explained nodding towards the whiteboard beside her desk.
Rick glanced over to it, stared at it for a moment before standing up and walking over to get a closer look of the crime scene photos of their victim and the summary of the details they knew about the case. Just as she was about to warn him that they had not updated it yet that day, her thought was interrupted by her coworker Esposito walking over and saying, "Yo." Kate looked up to him quickly as he'd surprised her, and he continued with, "I got those financials you—hey, buddy, look don't touch."
Kate turned her head in the direction of Esposito's narrowed gaze and saw that Rick had pulled their victim's photo out from beneath the magnets holding it on to the whiteboard. He appeared startled at the accusation and quickly tried to put the photo back only to drop both magnets onto the floor.
"It's okay, Espo," Kate said, picking up the magnet that landed by her foot and handing it back to her friend. "That's my friend, Rick; remember him? You met before when we were canvassing."
Espo's brow furrowed for a moment and then his eyes flashed with recognition. "The kidnapped guy?"
"Yes," she said with a slight edge to her tone, not wanting Rick to be known only for that event. Then, turning back to her friend she gave a soft smile. "I was just showing him around."
"Sorry; I didn't mean to mess with your things." Rick apologized. "I just…The victim wasn't strangled—at least, not to death." As he spoke, he pointed with the picture he held towards the writing below it, which read "COD: Strangulation?"
Kate pressed her lips together as she looked at him, curious. This was the part of the murder board that had not yet been updated; they knew the cause of death was not actually strangulation, but she was curious as to his reasoning, so she encouraged him with, "Why do you say that?"
"Because this," he said, gesturing towards the fingerprint bruising marks on the victim's neck, "is all wrong." Looking at Kate, he asked, "May I?"
She nodded him on and he quickly set the photo down on the edge of her desk. Sliding his hands over Kate's neck, he mimicked the bruises in the photo with his four fingers at the side of her neck and his thumbs running parallel with her windpipe. "Look how awkward this is. It's not a natural position, nor would it be effective, because you can still breathe, right?"
Of course, he was barely touching her so her breathing was never in danger, but she confirmed with a nod.
"It I was going to strangle you, I'd do this." He moved his thumbs so they were perpendicular to the base of her throat, crossing over her windpipe. He held them there for a second to demonstrate and then moved his thumbs back into the position depicted. "This is just bizarre. It's like I'd grab you and shake you like I was angry with you, but it's not your cause of death. Oh, also, your killer is left handed."
"Why's that?" Esposito asked.
Rick removed his hands from Kate's neck and she had to admit she was disappointed to feel them go. His hands had been so warm against her chilled skin, his skin so soft. Feeling her cheeks flush, she shook her head so her hair fell out from behind her ears and hid the color in her skin; maybe it was warm enough in the building after all.
When the picture of the victim held up against his chest, Rick pointed to the fingertip shadows on either side of the victim's neck. "The marks on the left are slightly more prominent than the ones on the right, which would indicate the attacker's left hand was stronger than his or her right. Odds are that means the killer is left dominant or left handed. Not a guarantee since his or her right hand could have been recently injured, but most likely they're left handed."
A proud smile on her face, Kate turned to Esposito and saw that he wore a perturbed expression. "He a PI or something?"
"No." She replied with great amusement. "He's a writer."
While Esposito scoffed, Kate plucked the victim's picture from Castle's hand and tacked it back onto the murder board. "The victim was not strangled, but poisoned; the bruising on his throat occurred pre-mortem. We have just requested a warrant to arrest our suspect. I don't know if he's left-handed or not, but I'll be sure to check."
The writer's expression brightened. "I was right?"
She bobbed her head. "Impressive observational skills, Mr. Castle."
A slightly stunned expression crossed his face as he looked back and forth between the murder board and Kate. Then, slowly, as his brow knit, it morphed into one of curiosity. "Hey, um, you can totally say no to this but I was thinking—I don't know a lot about police procedure and it might really help my next book if I could ask some questions maybe shadow you for a day or two. Would that be possible?"
She nodded her head and her heart fluttered at the prospect of being able to share a day with him. "I think we could work something out."
His forehead relaxed and he stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Are you sure? You'd tell me if I'm asking too much of you, right?"
She shook off his concern. "It's not a problem. I do have to get back to this case, though. Thanks for the coffee and I'll call you later about checking out those book cover designs, okay?"
"Oh, yes! Of course! Sure! Talk to you later, Kate!"
Kate could not help but laugh at his giddy tone and the sight of him practically skipping towards the elevator. Once he'd disappeared she turned back to her desk and sighed; back to reality.
Later that day, Kate sat on the worn sofa in Rick's cramped apartment while he cleaned up the font samples and color scheme examples Black Pawn had sent him to review for the cover of his inaugural book. Though Kate had brushed off his earlier comments that the task was very complicated, she soon saw he had not actually been exaggerating that much. The color samples and background images seemed quite simple compared to the vast array of fonts provided. The longer they looked, the more she was glad she did not have to make the final decision, but Rick said that he had helped her narrow it down, which made her feel successful in her endeavor.
"Oh—I almost forgot. Did you arrest a suspect today?" Rick asked once all the samples were put back into the folder Black Pawn sent him.
"Ah, yes." Kate informed him happily as she got up to put her now empty beer bottle in the recycle bin under his kitchen sink. "And you'll be pleased to know he is left handed."
His expression brightened. "Awesome. Well, not awesome obviously because someone died, but...well, anyway, he's the guy then?"
She nodded. "DA's going to charge him in the morning. He maintains his innocence, but we have security camera footage of him outside the building on the night of the murder, and his financials show he was in pretty dire straits and we had several witnesses report that he owed the victim money. The pieces seem to fit."
Rick's brow wrinkled and he appeared to be in deep contemplation for several moments before he asked, "Does that happen often? You charge someone who insists they're innocent."
"I don't think I'd call it often. I don't always get a confession—maybe seventy percent of the time I do? Some people maintain their innocence no matter how much evidence clearly displays their guilt."
His eyes clouded over as he walked back to the sofa and sat down. Resting his forearms against his thighs he leaned forward, dropping his head a little. "I…I'm glad I didn't have to go through that."
"So am I." Being forced to sit through a trial, being forced to testify to all the horrors he'd witnessed and experienced would have been a terrible fate for Rick. In fact, it might very well have pushed him over the edge from recovering young man to total basket case. Thankfully neither he— nor the families of his other victims—had to endure that.
Clearing his throat, Rick looked back up to her. "Sorry. Didn't mean to drag the mood down. Let's talk about something else."
"Ah, okay." She tried to come up with a new topic on the fly, but suddenly found herself saying, "Make out with anyone recently?" It had been a little over a week since their kissing education session and she had failed to push it from her mind. Every time she saw him, she thought about their lips pressed together. She woke up thinking about it. She went to bed thinking about it. It only made sense that she brought it up in conversation.
He let out a breathy noise somewhere between a laugh and a gasp. "Actually, no. I, uh, made a decision on that front."
She tiled her head, intrigued. "Oh?"
"Yeah I… I think maybe I shouldn't make out with any random women for a while. That is…I was talking to my therapist about it in our last session and I think sometimes I try to overcompensate for stuff—try to hide my past, make it seem like I'm completely normal. But I'm not normal. This thing that happened to me will always be a part of me and I feel like the person I try to be with the next time needs to know about it."
Kate nodded; his comment made perfect sense to her. Normally, she would have suggested a person live for the present and not the past, but this event had been so monumental that it affected his present and thus honesty seemed the best way to go. "I don't disagree with that, but at the same time 'I was held hostage for 7 years' isn't exactly a first date conversation."
He nodded and rubbed his hand over his mouth. "No, I know that. So that's why I'm thinking maybe I should try to be friends with the woman first. It would be beneficial, especially considering the other things about me…"
"Such as…?" She led, wondering if it was something new or merely the things she'd already heard about.
He gazed over at her and deadpanned, "Well if you thought I was bad at kissing…"
Not expecting this, she almost laughed. Rick's comedic side, especially in the way of self-depreciating humor, really had begun to shine over the prior months as his confidence grew. Still, as his non-joke processed in her mind, she felt her cheeks turning pink. Oh god. She had experienced Rick's kissing. When extrapolating that into more intimate acts…she would have cringed if she had not been trying so hard to keep a neutral expression for him.
"Don't worry—I won't ask you to help me with that with me." He added a minute later. That time, she did laugh in response.
He smiled gently before continuing. "But seriously: it's not just that. It's… The truth is that I've never been in a relationship that lasted more than a month or so. The women either couldn't tolerate my bad kissing, the sex or just…me feeling the need to conceal my past, seem normal. We'd be going along okay and then something would happen – something that a person with a normal childhood would have been able to handle, but I'd freeze and things would fall apart. I've never been in love. I don't think anyone's ever loved me."
"Rick..." His confession absolutely shattered her heart and drew a tear from her eye. That was it; that was her moment of no return. Standing in his apartment, listening to him confess such things, she wanted more than anything to tell him that his statement wasn't true, that people did love him and she was one of them, but she couldn't; she wasn't in that space yet.
God, she wanted to love him. She wanted to be the person that brought a smile to his face and drew laughter from his lips. In many ways she did love him and she was already that person for him, just as he was for her. He was sweet and kind and without question the person she favored most in the world, but he had gone above and beyond. By his own admission he had been more open and honest with her than anyone previously in his life. If they were going to be in a relationship she owed him the same courtesy.
She would get there—hopefully sooner than later. She had to get there.
After almost a full minute of silence he looked up at her, brushed a stray tear from his cheek and sniffed back a few that had yet to fall. "You'd tell me if I'm fucked up beyond repair, right? My therapist can't but-"
"No!" She insisted, dropping to the couch beside him and cradling his body against hers. "You are not fucked up beyond repair. Far from it. I promise you." She held him tight for several moments before pulling back and cupping his jaw so he'd look her in the eye. "Rick, listen to me – you are a wonderful man. You're so kind; you have such a big heart, and I know there are times you don't think you're normal but I promise you're not that different from anyone else, especially when it comes to relationship insecurities. Any woman would be lucky to have you."
"Could you write a letter of recommendation for me to keep in my wallet?"
Despite herself, she laughed. "If you think that would help…"
He lifted up his hand to grab on to hers. "This helps. Having someone to talk to like a friend and not a therapist. You have no idea what a relief it is that you've never said 'and how does that make you feel?'"
Again, she laughed. Then, brushing a tear away from her jaw with the back of her hand, she jumped back to his earlier comment. "But seriously: I think 'friends first' is a really good idea for you, Rick. It sounds like the more comfortable you are with someone, the easier it is to open up, and that's what you need. Besides, 'friends first' is nice for any relationship if you can manage it."
"Have you done it?"
She bobbed her head. "Once in college. Not since. It's harder to make new friends as an adult." Harder? More like impossible, especially when she worked crazy hours. "You'll meet someone through work" people always told her, until they remembered that most of the people she met through work were felons.
"So that's not just me?"
She patted his arm. "Not at all."
Though he did look noticeably relaxed, he still shook his head and sighed as he flopped back against the couch. "I just don't know… some days I think it would be easier to give up and become a hermit."
She shook her head. "That's not who you are; you like people too much. You have a light inside you…don't hide it away from everyone. You came out the other side of a tragedy stronger than before; don't ever forget that."
He reached out and squeezed her hand. "Thanks Kate."
A/N: Thank you so much for all the positive response to the last chapter - so glad you're enjoying this story
only two more chaps + epilogue after this one!