Kate will have to go to the morgue alone.
When it comes down to it, Castle can't leave his daughter, and Kate completely understands. She tasks him with forwarding her all the photos he took of the Roma Haskins crime scene, and then she gets back on the elevator with Officer Hunt, the two of them riding down in silence.
In the lobby of Castle's building, she goes over it again with Hunt and Ross, the two officers assigned to Castle's protective duty. "No one goes in this building without ID, double checked by the door man. If his relief is someone new on the job, he stays, you stay, then you call me. If his relief is someone he doesn't know, you call me. If someone has a complaint, you tell them to call the mayor."
"The mayor?" Hunt asks, raising his eyebrows.
"The mayor." Kate affirms, staring him down to get the seriousness across. "We have a serial killer on the loose who has already decided he doesn't like Richard Castle. You know Tyson; you all got his photo?" At their nods, she continues. "He works with a partner. We think it might be a woman, but it could be anyone. No one, and I mean no one, goes in this building who doesn't belong here; I don't care who they know or how much they make. No service men. No maintenance workers. We've already contacted the building's manager; he's filled in on this, so he won't be sending workers."
"Got it, boss," Hunt says, nodding at her. "We're in the lobby until further notice then. Any other entrances?"
"This is the only one. There's a fire exit at the stairs, but it's locked from the inside. Every hour, one of you goes to the exit, checks to make sure it's still closed and locked."
"Yes, ma'am," Ross says, crossing his arms over his chest. "You got relief for us?"
"It's going to be Collins and Stanton."
"Detective Stanton is going to baby-sit?"
Kate winces. "Yeah. He's going to have to. They're your relief. No one else; no exceptions. This guy, you know he has a detective's badge and gun, right?"
"Yes, ma'am." They both nod.
"Something doesn't feel right; you call me. Someone says I said do something; you call me."
"We call you. Got it, boss."
She nods, lets her face soften just a little. "Thank you. This guy. . .he tricked us last time, made us look like fools. I don't want that happening again."
As she turns away, she sees them both stand a little straighter, a little stiffer. It does make her feel a little easier, leaving Castle to their care after her little speech. She doesn't even care if they spend the rest of the night talking about how much of a fool she is for Castle, so long as they guard the door.
Kate walks out of the building, gets in her car, and heads to the morgue alone.
Lanie is waiting for her, looking exhausted, dressed in a pair of work scrubs. Kate gives her a quick hug, sighing, and waves off the unasked question regarding Castle's whereabouts.
"Sorry to wake you again. I need to see Donna Gallagher's body."
"Yeah, what are you looking for?" Lanie leads her through the dimly lit office, pulls out her keys to unlock the double doors leading to the autopsy suites. Once down that hall, their steps sound strange as they echo off the ceiling tiles and concrete blocks.
"Castle noticed lipstick stains on one of the cups in the kitchen. Need to see if Gallagher was wearing lipstick."
"Why didn't you just ask me?"
Kate stops mid-stride, looking at her friend. "Are you serious?"
"Donna was wearing lipstick. I don't usually put that kind of thing in the report though."
Kate's heart drops. "What color?"
"Pinkish."
"Not coral?" She raises an eyebrow.
"I wouldn't call it that." Lanie tilts her head, pulls out her keys. "But let's go look."
"That's not something you'd include in the report?"
"Well, it depends, Kate. Sometimes, yeah, if it's a sexual crime, if there's a point to looking. I happened to notice on Donna because her lips were chapped, flaking, and the color, whew not a good color on her. Pale."
Pale pink might be Kate's coral; it's hard to know. She follows Lanie down the hall, stopping to let her unlock the cold storage.
Lanie flicks on the overhead light and picks up the catalog hanging by a string next to the door.
"Still not computerized?"
"Honey, you've seen the old guys that work here. We got some real sticks-in-the-mud. Ain't no way we're gonna get this digital." She flips through the book, finds the name and correct slot, and reads off the number. "Drawer 2118."
Kate locates the drawer and thumbs off the lock that keeps it from accidentally popping open. She remembers Lanie complaining about the drawers not catching all the way, walking in to find the bodies decomping, the terrible smell. Kate tugs harder and the drawer slides open.
Lanie has already pulled on gloves, hands some over to Kate. She produces a Q-tip looking thing, swipes it across the woman's lips while Kate peers closely, trying to determine the color.
They both look at the swab.
"No color," Lanie says. "But it's glossy."
"Not lipstick. Chapstick." Kate glances up to look at her friend. "She's wearing chapstick. The coral lipstick on the cup-"
"Was someone else." Lanie straightens up, glances at the swab in her hand. "I'll evidence this. You need to sign off on it."
"Yeah, yeah, let me call-"
"Kate, get me an evidence bag."
She follows Lanie's finger and grabs a box of clear bags from the table near the door. She opens one up, much like a ziploc bag, and turns it inside out, her hand covered. She takes the swab from Lanie, peels the bag down around it, closes it up. "You got evidence tape in here?"
"Bottom drawer."
Kate pulls out the evidence tape, seals the top, and signs the seal. She hands it to Lanie who makes her mark as the ME, then watches her friend add it to the small pile of evidence in the space at the foot of the drawer, all of it in something like a clear garbage bag.
"So classy," Kate murmurs, grinning at Lanie.
"We might be dinosaurs down here, but we get the job done." Lanie pulls of her gloves, takes Kate's from her, and dumps them in the biohazard bin. "Now you can make your calls. I'll revise the report and email it to you."
"Thanks, Lanie. Have you gotten anything back on the fibers?"
"Not yet. Like I said, it's gonna be weeks. Even with a second murder, we still have a wait."
Kate chews on the inside of her lip, phone in hand. "What about sending it out?"
"Federal? Or were you thinking private?"
"We use private labs, don't we?"
Lanie nods slowly. "We do, but. . .judges don't always look kindly on private labs. Means there's money behind it."
"But with this, the possibility of a serial killer back in the city. . ."
"I'll look into it, Kate. But you know testing destroys the sample. I found a couple of fibers on Donna, but only one on Roma Haskins. That will be it."
"One shot you mean."
"One shot." Lanie closes the drawer, leads her back out of the cold storage room. She pulls out her keys to lock it again.
Kate takes a deep breath. "Let me call the Captain. I'll have to get approval for it. But if we can, I want to send the samples off. I need to get this confirmed, or else I can't request more manpower."
"That have something to do with Castle not being here? You said on the phone he was gonna be with you."
Kate digs the heel of her hand into her forehead, weariness swamping her. "Yeah. When we realized Tyson's partner could be a woman, he freaked a little."
"Castle? Freaked?" Lanie said, amused.
"He couldn't get ahold of his daughter."
"Oh." The amusement has faded from her face.
"Yeah. She's fine though. We went to the apartment; Alexis was asleep of course. Headphones on, so she didn't hear her phone."
"Wow. That must've been intense. So Castle stayed home."
"Castle stayed home."
Just as she says this, her phone rings, startlingly loud in the empty hallway. She glances at the display.
"It's Castle." She answers, pressing the phone to her ear, her heart pounding. "Castle?"
"I think I found her. I think I know who she is."