A/N - Hey guys. New chapter up. I thought that I would post this since I am moving (again) and it may be a little time before I can sit down and do some proper writing for the next chapter.

So please as always, read, enjoy and review!

See you on the the other end of the move!

Chapter Ten – Bread and Butter

Erin Gifkens was surprisingly calm for someone who was sitting at the police station and in an interrogation room. In Beckett's experience, even the innocent had a hard time processing the activity around them. They over analyse what was going on. Erin just simply sat, playing with the end of her heavy braid, sighing and glancing at the watch on her wrist. Beckett and Castle watched her from the other side of the glass.

"So she discovered who Kaylee really was?"

"And used it against her to pull Dillion away from Kaylee. That's the theory anyway. I'll let her confirm it."

Beckett crossed her arms.

"I don't like her reaction. She's too relaxed."

"Agreed. It's unnerving. Go work your magic on her. Be scary."

Beckett smiled as Castle gently pushed her out the door by her shoulders. In the seconds from one doorway to another, the smile faded and she changed her face. She closed it off, made it hard and let the death of Kaylee and their Jane Doe reinforce it. Erin barely flicked her eyes up from the end of her braid when Beckett walked in, her posture remaining relaxed.

"Finally, I thought that you had forgotten me."

Beckett said nothing, let the silence do its thing. Except that it wasn't. Erin didn't seem bothered at all.

"So you said that this was about Kaylee."

"Actually, no. This is about you."

Erin paused, her hair falling from her finger tips/

"Me? How?"

'Why didn't you tell us that you read Kaylee's manuscript?"

Erin sighed.

"I didn't. I get a brief and then help create the blurb on the back of the book."

"But you connected Kaylee to that manuscript."

"It wasn't hard. Not only was she constantly writing in those damn notebooks of hers, I saw the manuscript. on her desk. Hardly the work of Sherlock Holmes."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"You didn't ask."

Beckett frowned.

"And Dillion, how does he work into all of this?"

Erin stiffened. For the first time, she seemed reactive to something that was being said to her. So it was Dillion. He was the key. Erin's hands stilled and her voice became urgent.

"He's a victim."

Beckett examined her for a second, allowing the moment to settle on her. She could see it now.

"How long have you been in love with him?"

Erin shook her head, her face settling down and becoming less active.

"I don't."

"Yes you do. And you saw what was going on and the truth about Kaylee. So you acted to protect him."

Erin leaned forward.

"Look, I know what you are doing. You're wrong. If you want dirt on Kaylee, look into those damn notebooks of hers. She always carried at least three and I can guarantee that it wasn't just novel ideas in those things. Now, as much as I hate to be a cliché, I want a lawyer."

"You're not under arrest."

"I'm also not an idiot. Lawyer. Now."

Kate left the room without a backwards glance. Castle met her just outside the door.

"Is it true? Was she really a note taker?"

Castle nodded.

"Always. Everything and anything that she saw or heard."

Beckett nodded.

"Then we need those notebooks."

"Yeah, about that. We are talking about a woman who has been doing the notebooks since she could pick up a pen. She's kept every single one of them. That's hundreds of notebooks."

"I have had harder and far messier evidence. I'll arrange for a warrant and for a team to go and collect them."

She went to dial but her phone chirped instead.

"Hey Lanie."

She said nothing as Lanie spoke. Her friend killed the call before she could. She met Castle's gaze.

"We have an I.D on Jane Doe."

They stood in quiet reverence as they waited on Lanie to begin.

"Castle, Beckett meet Clarissa Marico. She's at the young end of 32. No surprise what the cause of death is. I do know that the attack came from behind judging by the direction and depth of the mark. Want to hear something sad?"

Castle's eyebrows flicked.

"Sadder than this?"

Lanie said nothing as she lowered the sheet that covered Clarissa's body. She lowered it to the waist and pointed at the arms, stomach and chest. It took Beckett to see what Lanie was pointing out. Light scars traced her pale, freckled skin. They all varied in sizes and depth.

"What is that?"

"But wait, there's more."

Lanie pulled up the lower end of the sheet, exposing Clarissa's legs. There were more scars there. Lanie shifted Clarissa slightly, exposing her back. There were the scars again.

"Did she cut herself?"

Lanie sighed.

"Castle, I would believe that on her arms and legs but not on her back and upper chest. Cutting is about self not everyone. Someone who cuts would not want anyone to see it."

"Then what is it?"

Lanie handed Beckett a file.

"Clarissa's medical records. She's suffered from eczema her entire life. The scars come from the tearing at her skin due to the itching."

"So she had dermatitis?"

Lanie shook her head.

"Oh no, this was a whole other level. She was in the upper one percent of the population, very rare and in some cases, deadly. We are talking strips of skin getting pulled away, bleeding, constant and persistent itching. She has been hospitalized at least half her life from blood infections and such. Take a look at the pictures from her last admission."

Beckett pulled open the file and was confronted with pictures that shocked her. Medical shots of her back, legs, arms and stomach made her look like a severe burn victim. All red, mottled and dry.

"She almost slipped into a coma from the severity of the infection."

"So what changed?"

"A little drug that shut off her immune system. It's often used for transplant patients as a way for their body not to reject the organ. She went from that to having normal skin, aside from the scars. She was on seven different pills daily as well as creams and oils to keep things under control. But from what I can see, it was working."

"Yeah, you're right Lanie."

"Sorry?"

Castle's frowned deepened as Lanie covered up Clarissa again.

"This does make it sadder."

Clarissa was added to the murder board and the wheels started to spin as they tried to string the two women together. After a few hours, there was nothing there. The women apparently had no other connection outside of the novel and the way that they died. Beckett leaned on her desk, arms across her chest in the silence of the bull pen. Aside from Castle, who was working once again on the manuscript, it was still. Esposito and Ryan had gone in to assist with the collection of the notebooks. They had checked in and Castle had been right. There were hundreds of them. And before they could leave the house that needed to be logged as evidence. Beckett sighed and focused on the dim. This is how it worked. Not with a flurry of activity but in the quiet spaces between. Sometimes nothing clicked and other times, the pieces slid neatly together in a way that she never noticed before. This was the time where she saw connections. But not tonight. She sighed and sipped the coffee that Castle had made her a little earlier.

"It didn't work, did it?"

"What?"

"Your Jedi mind trick."

Beckett cracked a smile as she turned back to him.

"As of yet, no. I can't seem to see the connection either. Aside from the fact that both women were looking for a new beginning. Clarissa with her health and Kaylee with her writing."

"Still no support on any of the theories then?"

"But there could be something in those notebooks."

Beckett ran her thumb over the stack of manuscript pages.

"You must have this memorized by now."

"Maybe but you never know what you are going to find every time we learn something new."

"So what are you looking for no?"

"Anything to do with our girl Clarissa."

"I never want to see another notebook again."

Beckett watched as stack after stack of boxes followed Ryan's comment. She waited for the flow to stop before counting. Thirty boxes. She glanced at Ryan.

"Is this all of them?"

He shook his head.

"Thanks to Kaylee, it was easy to find the notebooks that covered that last two years. I thought that should be far back enough to see the picture."

"Perfect. Let's get to work."

This was the organics of police work. Turning of pages, scratching of pens the rubbing of eyes. They managed to get through almost three dozen before Beckett sent home both Esposito and Ryan. She was going to do the same to Castle but he refused to budge, continuing to pour over the last remaining aspect of his friend. She made them both a coffee before settling herself back in the seat across from him.

"Beckett?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you ever think that you can know someone?

Beckett paused, mid-paragraph, raising her eyes to find his focused on her. She considered his statement.

"Depends on what you mean. I don't think it's possible to know every single nook and cranny of a person. Why?"

Castle turned one of the notebooks around for her to read. He remained silent as her eyes scanned the writing. It was from two years ago, Beckett could tell from the smears on the page and the damage to the paper that Kaylee had been crying when she wrote it.

It happened again, third one in three years. What if it's me? I don't feel right; the world seems to be getting darker on me. I don't know why. And here's Spencer planning names for our little boy. Spencer Junior. S.J. How in the world do I tell him again?

Beckett glanced back at Castle.

"That kind of thing is immensely personal."

"I've known her for ten years."

"You've know Alexis her whole life but I can guarantee that you don't know everything."

"True."

Beckett's softened her tone slightly.

"People are like onions. There's layers and then there's tears."

Castle managed a smile.

"Cheerful."

"Truthful."

They both put their heads back down again, getting back to the task at hand. It was Beckett who noticed it first. The writing shifted. It became more frantic, less smooth. She glanced at the date, 18 months before the murder. Even the very angle of the writing was completely different. Still distinctly Kaylee, but it was as if her hand couldn't keep up with her thoughts.

"Castle, pass me that notebook about the miscarriages."

He passed her the corresponding notebook, finding the page with a frown.

"What did you find?"

Beckett ignored his question, focusing on the books in front of her. It was definitely still Kaylee's writing, she had no doubt of that, not with the similarities between the two. It was just very different.

"Look at her handwriting. Something changed."

Castle examined the handwriting before fishing for another notebook. As he flicked through the pages, a business card fluttered to the table. They exchanged a quick look.

"Our connection?"

Beckett stood, already half out the door.

"Let's find out."