If you do a bit of investigating, the 9th precinct is the one used in the first few seasons. That being the case, there IS a burger place called Bareburger close by. Maybe what Remy's is based on? Anyway, the menu is out of this world. And there is an Indian place near, as well, that one reviewer called the best they had ever had. Google maps are a wealth of information. J

And, guys, I just meant the CURRENT value of an apartment in the building in which he "lives" is 10 million, not that he just bought it 2 years ago. I do watch the show, you know! J

And since this is going AU at the end of season 5, yes, she was asking for help at that point. She had been working with Burke in season 4 to get better, trying to be more open. And I think the shock of losing her chance would slap her into high gear.

Enough ranting.

Chapter 21

Kate woke just before her alarm was set to go off. She rolled over and picked up her phone, wondering if she had missed a call or text from dispatch. Nothing. She dropped her head back to the pillow and tried to relax enough to get the 30 minutes of sleep she had left. No dice. The adrenalin rush from jolting awake had done its job. She was too awake to go back to sleep, or even just relax for that matter. "Might as well get up," she muttered, rolling to her feet.

An hour later, Kate walked through the elevator doors onto the homicide floor. After dropping her bag into her bottom drawer, she turned on her computer and turned for the break room. It would take the poor thing a few minutes to boot up, so she went looking for coffee while she waited. She smiled when she saw the basket of mini muffins on the table in the break room table. The precinct had been adopted by a church mission, and one of the things the group did was drop off snacks once or twice a week in the break rooms to show their appreciation for all the officers did to help the community. Kate walked back to her desk with a cop of coffee and 2 blueberry muffins, hoping her dinosaur of a computer was awake.

Kate sat at her desk and opened her email folder, read through the entries that seemed to multiply exponentially overnight, deleting several that were obviously of the "chain letter" variety. One email from PP1 was a reminder about an upcoming CPR class; another was from HR saying open enrollment for insurance was coming in a few weeks. She flipped her desk calendar and wrote in the date, knowing if she didn't she would never remember. When she had cleared out her Inbox, she stretched and checked the time. 7 o'clock. Wow. She was going to be bored stiff by the time lunch rolled around and she left to meet Martha.

"Coffee," she muttered as she pushed back from her desk and headed to the break room. Her blue mug was sitting beside the sink so she grabbed it up and headed over to the machine Castle had bought for them. She went through the steps for making a cup of coffee the likes of which she would never have dreamed would come from their break room. Not before Castle, anyway. A check of her watch when she sat back at her desk with the steaming cup showed she had managed to kill all of ten whole minutes.

She was going to go crazy, she was sure, if all she could do was sit here. In a fit of cleaning, she organized her desktop, washed off coffee splashes and cracker crumbs, checked the pens in her cup and threw away a couple that were dried up. Slid open the top left drawer and froze. Rick had left a notepad and one of his favorite types of pen in it along with a stack of multicolored sticky notes. She felt her eyes prick just before she slammed it shut. Everywhere she turned, she was reminded of what she had lost. A quick note stuck to Ryan's computer to let him know where to find her and she was on her way to the evidence room.

She remembered bringing Alexis here on her first day of being at the precinct officially- when she was doing a community service project for her high school. Thanks to Alexis, the room had been straightened, the computer updated and cleaned of viruses. Now, it wasn't such a nightmare to come in and log items into the computer before boxing them up. Everyone now tried to put in at least an hour a week, since it was a bit embarrassing to have a high school kid clean up after you. Sort of like having your parents show up at your dorm room unexpectedly.

Kate set her cup on the table by the computer and booted it up. While it was going through its log in script, she stood looking around, hands on her hips. It really had stayed fairly organized in here. She went to the bin where items were put and began sorting and logging some into the spread sheet before putting the bags into case boxes, or making a new boxes. She was so focused on what she was doing, she almost jumped out of her skin when Ryan tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention.

"Oops! Sorry, Beckett!" he quipped with a grin.

"It's okay," she said, feeling her heart starting to slow. "At least I didn't take you down."

Ryan gulped and his eyebrows rose at the thought. "Yeah. Good point. Anyway, Gates wants us to pull a cold case each and read over the file and see if we see anything new since we're hitting a slow spot."

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty much at a stopping place here. Let me save this last entry and I'll be out."

"Sure thing, Boss," Ryan responded before the door closed behind him.

Kate soon sat at her desk, cold case file open before her. She seemed to remember this one, and the more she read, the more the details filtered back.

Kate staggered into her apartment at 9 o'clock that night. It had been a long day; they got a call out at 8 that morning. A garbage crew found more than just the dumpsters they were to empty behind a line of restaurants and stores. Uniforms canvassed the surrounding area but no one remembered seeing or hearing anything out of the ordinary. A road crew had been repairing a hole using a jack-hammer part of the time. If the victim had yelled, no one would have heard it anyway. There were security cameras at either end of the row of businesses, but they were mainly to catch vehicles. Someone could walk along the far side of the row and not be on camera. Not to mention, there was a fence between two buildings backing up to the area where the dumpsters were that was only a 6 feet high chain link. Not exactly trespasser-proof. None of the restaurant workers who had taken out trash that night had seen or heard anything out of the ordinary.

The victim had been a single male, 25 years old, no family they could locate, no priors, and not dating, much less a steady girlfriend. He had worked as a short order cook during the day, and waited tables in the evening at a fairly nice family restaurant. No one at either job remembered him having any sort of altercation. He was friendly, if a bit on the quiet side with his co-workers. Dead end.

Next on the list was his apartment building. He had an efficiency in the basement of a building housing a small deli on the first floor and small apartments on the three upper floors. Upon walking in, Castle had muttered, "Reminds me of Dresden's place."

"Who?" Beckett had asked, trying to remember anyone by that name but drawing a complete blank.

"Harry Dresden." He received a blank look from her. "Seriously? The Dresden Files? Jim Butcher?"

"Castle, I have no clue who that is," she informed him, a bit annoyed at his shocked look.

"He's a character by Jim Butcher, Chicago's only official wizard. He…aanndd you don't care. Anyway, he has a basement apartment and this just made me think of it."

Beckett rolled her eyes, "Gotcha. Well, I doubt our boy's a wizard, but take a look through that stack of mail just in case. Maybe there's a letter from Hogwarts."

"So hot!" Kate had heard him mutter. Castle had sorted through and found the normal junk - sale papers, 'You may have won!' notices, pre-approved credit card notices, and his power bill. Much as he wanted to open it, he remembered Beckett saying that even though the person was dead they would need a warrant to check mail. He pulled out an evidence bag and dropped it all in, just in case. You never knew what might help.

There were no dirty dishes in the sink, or dirty clothes on the floor of the bedroom (they were in a hamper outside the bathroom). An older model laptop was in a case beside the couch, and they picked it up to take back for CSU to check for anything they could use. The apartment was neat and clean. The furniture was obviously second hand, but bright throws covered the couch and an armchair. An older model TV sat on a scarred chest of drawers. The floor was basic schoolroom tile, but rugs covered most of it. The windows were the typical transoms for a basement. Instead of curtains, bottles of various colors and styles sat on the sills. All in all, a nice starter place.

A sweep of the building turned up zilch. All the neighbors were sad to hear what had happened, but had nothing to add. No altercations, no loud parties, no one seen coming or going, just nothing. Rick hadn't let her stay late, but had insisted she go grab a bite to eat before heading home, knowing she had skipped lunch - a handful of Skittles and a stale muffin did NOT constitute lunch, he claimed. He took her to this French Canadian place between their apartments, convincing her that if she didn't want the seafood, there was a brisket that was to die for. She had consented, and they had decompressed before she headed home to grab some sleep before returning to the precinct the next morning.

Beckett thought back and remembered thinking she had never seen such an empty murder board. When it became obvious after three days the case was going nowhere, Gates had told them to pack it up. Beckett remembered the Captain's soft, sad sigh as she gave the order. It was obvious their captain hated to let one go as much as she did, but they were stuck - literally had NO leads - and it didn't make sense to keep on when they had another call. Beckett picked up the phone and began rechecking with the man's bosses at the two restaurants and co-workers. Maybe something would pop.

After a tedious few hours, Beckett checked her watch and found it was time to leave to meet Martha. Maybe lunch and the meeting with Castle's lawyer would be more productive than her morning had been. Well, unproductive so far. She still was waiting on a call back from a couple of people, but wasn't really hopeful. After checking with Gates to update her on the case and remind the captain of the appointment, she grabbed her purse and headed out.

Kate reached the front sidewalk just as Martha was headed toward the door. The two women debated briefly over a restaurant. There was an Indian place on 2nd avenue close to the precinct, that was wonderful, but both reconsidered when they thought about the meeting to which they were going. Martha admitted that sometimes the spices didn't always agree with her, no matter how much she loved the food. They settled on Bareburger and proceeded to make their way over.

An hour later, both were stuffed with burgers and the zucchini sticks they had shared. Kate was hoping the cola she had drunk help her stay awake for the meeting; all she really wanted to do was take a nap! She hadn't eaten that much in weeks. She sobered. She hadn't eaten like that since Rick had left. Really thinking, she realized just how loose the pants she had put on this morning were, even after that Roadhouse burger with all the trimmings.

Martha snagged the check from their waiter before Kate even knew the young man was there. Of course Martha was keeping her eye on the handsome man. Kate realized she should have expected that; this was Martha we were talking about. After a bit of discussion, Martha finally consented to let Kate leave the tip.

Kate remembered her mother's law firm. Well, not hers, the one she worked for. The offices were nice, professional looking, but not spectacular. Richard Castle's attorney's office, however, was something else. She hadn't seen so much marble outside an Italian museum! And the artwork was original, not reproductions. She felt distinctly out of place with her slacks and dress shirt, even if she did have on a nice jacket- and her badge and gun on her hip. Well, you never knew when you might get a call….

Martha led the way to a receptionist and spoke a few words before leading Kate down a hallway, not waiting for an escort. Mentally, Kate smiled as, "For she will do as she did, do!" popped into her mind.

As they neared an office close to the end of the hallway, a man stepped out and greeted Martha warmly. Kate took him in curiously. He was on the upper side of middle aged, slender, but not skinny. He had the solid look of someone who kept in shape, even with his obvious responsibilities. He had a dark complexion, sort of a Castilian look, and the brownest eyes Kate had ever seen.

"Martha! Always a pleasure!" he said as he took her hand in both of his and kissed her cheek.

Martha smiled warmly back, "Bartholomew, it's so nice to see you, too. And how is Rebecca? And the boys?"

"Everyone is doing well. David is in his junior year at Columbia - pre-med. - and Edwin is a starting his masters at Cornell in law. Rebecca is still doing her pro bono work at the legal aid organization. David said he had had all the "legal talk" he could stand!" the man ended with a laugh. "Anyway, if you're here, Rick must have really put his foot in it this time."

"Yes. Well. You could say that. Let me introduce you. Barty, this is Detective Katherine Beckett. Kate, this is Bartholomew Masterson, our family attorney."

"Pleasure to meet you," Kate said, sticking out her hand.

"Oh, my," Masterson muttered as he shook her hand, "REALLY stepped in it this time."

Kate hesitated a beat, "It's - complicated. Maybe we should take this into your office?"

"Where are my manners? Yes, yes, right this way." Kate felt a moment of deja vu as the three entered a comfortable conference area in the office with a round table and padded chairs. When all were seated, the women explained about Rick cutting off all contact, how concerned they were for his safety, about Alexis being out of the country and worry over how to reach him in case of emergency. And about how Martha had enlisted the help of the NYPD in the search for her son - the threat of a warrant to get information implied but not stated. She also reminded him she did have power of attorney for Richard, as he did for her.

Masterson just listened quietly until they were finished. He then got up and went to the wooden lateral file cabinet across the room and pulled a rather thick file from the drawer. Noticing Kate's raised eyebrow when he sat back down he smiled slightly, "I know. I ran out of room in the first one; this is "Part 2", I guess you could say. "Kate didn't know what to say, not that she had a chance since the man plowed on. "I've sold the Ferrari as per Richard's instructions. I've also found a renter for the beach house, but they only wanted it until September. I'll keep looking for something more long-term. Now,…"

Martha stopped him with a raised hand. "That's fine, but not why we're here. We want to know where to find Richard."

"Martha, I don't know where he is. I haven't heard anything from him in a couple of months, at least."

Kate interrupted, "Is there anything you can tell us about Rick? Anything at all that may have happened in the time before he dropped out of sight. If you can think of anything, even if it seems insignificant, please tell us." The desperation in her voice was not recognizable to Masterson, but very obvious to Martha.

Masterson sighed, rubbing his chin in thought, "I don't have anything specific; he was agitated, angry the day we spoke, but he didn't say anything specific." He stopped speaking, obviously thinking hard. "He did say something about having an appointment with his accountant to set up deposit for the rent and the Ferrari. You might try her."

Both women stood and shook hands with the attorney, thanking him for his help. Martha promised to get in touch with Rebecca, even told Masterson she was on MyFace so his wife could 'friend her'. At his slightly puzzled look, Kate silently mouthed, "Facebook," from behind Martha's back. He broke out in a grin and said he would be sure to pass the word.

After a quick phone call Martha began digging in her purse, finally pulling out a pen and a small notepad. She wrote quickly then pulled off the sheet and handed it to Kate. With an afternoon class starting soon, she would be unable to accompany Kate to the accountant's office. She had called ahead and paved the way, hand written a note (which made Kate feel like she was in grade school again), and included the address. With a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, Martha left her slightly bemused in a swirl of perfume.

After the law offices, Kate wasn't sure what to expect from the accountant. She was pleasantly surprised at what she found. Instead of a steel and glass, modern building, Castle's accounting firm, Delacourt, Brown, and Acre, was located in an older building- one with style and grace. The interior was welcoming, and left you with the feeling this was someone you could trust. Not a bad idea when you were giving your money to them.

Kate was also a bit surprised when she met Amy Delacourt, Rick's CPA. She looked to be about Rick's age, 5'6" or so, with bright blue eyes. She introduced herself and shook Kate's hand before leading her into a wood paneled office that at once reminded Kate of old English manor houses. Her well-trained eye saw the many details, small but expensive items, antiques, that declared this firm was doing well for all that they were not blatant about it.

After the pleasantries were out of the way, and the two women had each assured the other to use first names, they got down to business. Kate explained that she had no interest in the details of Rick's finances other than if the woman had any information that could help them locate the missing writer.

Delacourt sat back in her chair and looked speculatively at Kate. After a few moments, Kate began to get the feeling she knew what the suspects in the box felt like when she used the silent treatment on them. The woman was good; it was all Kate could do to remain silent.

"Let me be frank with you, Kate," she said sitting forward and propping her arms on her desk. "When Rick came by that day, he was vacillating between absolutely pissed and depression. And your name came up. A lot. Now, I don't always know what's going on with him; we're not as close as we were in college when he tutored me in literature and grammar, and I helped him with algebra and statistics, but we do keep in touch. And I help him with his investments, taxes, and the like. I don't want to see him get hurt anymore than he already has, so maybe you need to tell me exactly why I should be forthcoming with information here. Because from where I sit, I don't think I owe you anything."

Kate sat a bit stunned. It seemed like she was on every one of Rick's friend's hit list right now. Finally she nodded slightly, "Fair enough. I screwed up. Simple as that. I'm not going to get into my personal history, but let's just say I want to make things right. Alexis, Martha, and I have made peace, and I have their blessings. Alexis is out of the country on a school-sponsored trip and is contacting me on a regular basis for updates on her dad. So far, I haven't been able to give her anything. I want to change that because she means the world to me, and not just because she's Rick's daughter. I've known her since she was 15 years old, and I care about her. But even more than that, I care about Rick. I've made some sacrifices for him, and I love him. I just need to let him know. If he doesn't want to continue on from there, that's his choice. He does need to know how much I care about him." She finally ran down, her heart thumping painfully in her chest, waiting for a response from Delacourt.

For her part, Amy sat back in her chair and thought over what Kate had said. Finally, she looked her in the eye. "Let's say I believe you. And Martha's word. How do I know this isn't going to come back and bite me on the ass?"

"You don't," Kate said as she reached into her purse. "That's why I stopped to speak with a good friend of Rick's, Judge Markaway." Kate laid the warrant on the desk between them. "Now he can't blame you, only me."

For the first time, Delacourt grinned, "I think I like you."

Kate handed over the warrant so the woman would have it for her records, and to keep her out of trouble in case Castle complained. After that, the two women began looking at Castle's accounts, making a timeline of his activity. Even though Kate knew intellectually that Rick was well off, had been to the Hamptons house and the loft, saw the way he slapped down $100,000 without blinking an eye when Coonan stated that was needed to lure out Rathborne, she didn't really process just how much he had until that afternoon sitting with his accountant looking for leads from his financials. Part of the money was from the books, but another good sized chunk was from his investments. They found the $50,000 he had transferred to the bank in the Cayman Islands just a couple of days before he dropped out of sight. There was a $7,000 dollar withdrawal from his checking account at about the same time. From there, nothing other than automatic bill-pay for his phone service and power bill until the email Delacourt had gotten from Castle about a boy who had been injured in a house fire with contact information and a request she send an anonymous donation of $10,000. Kate quickly wrote down the date and the location, noting it was on the way to Charlottesville if you went by interstate. She couldn't help but swallow hard at the thought of Castle having enough in his checking account to just pull out $7,000 in cash. It was what she made in a month, before taxes and bills knocked a hole in it.

The big question was where had he gone after that? She had been checking Castle's official website every night, trying to see if there had been a sighting, but there was nothing. Kate suddenly grabbed her phone and sent a quick text to Ryan, asking him to check with the DMV for any vehicle Castle might have registered in the past couple of months. Ryan texted back in a few minutes to say he had found nothing. She passed the word to Delacourt.

The woman nodded her head absentmindedly, looking at her screen intently, clicking her mouse occasionally. Kate sat back in her chair and chewed on her thumbnail, thinking hard. Suddenly she sat straight up and snatched up her phone, texting furiously.

Delacourt, who had started slightly at Beckett's sudden move looked over at her, "Got something?" she asked?

"Maybe. Just a hunch from something I remembered from one of Rick's notes." At Delacourt's raised eyebrow Kate continued, "His notes on how to disappear. I just had one of my team start checking again, but this time I'm having him use other names, variations on Rick's birth name. You know, Richard Alexander Rogers. I'm having Ryan check that and Alexander Rogers, Richard Alexander, and Alexander Richards. One notation he made was to use something familiar to you so if someone called you would answer instead of looking around. Which I've - we've - seen someone do once on a case a few years ago."

"Hm. Yeah, I can see that. Well, I'm not getting any activity on his charge cards, or on his other accounts other than what should be happening. Maybe he was planning on using cash to stay under the radar?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," Kate replied. Before she could comment further, her phone buzzed indicating an incoming text. "Ha! Gotcha!" she exclaimed, giving a fist pump.

"What?"

"We have a Blazer purchased by a Richard Alexander at about the time Rick disappeared. Ryan's on his way to the lot where it was purchased with a picture to see if anyone recognizes him. And I would bet that cash withdrawal was used to buy it."

"Sounds like you have a good lead, more than I've found," Delacourt said.

Kate fired back, "Hey, you found the money transfer and the withdrawal from the checking account. That was more than Martha and I were able to dig up. I appreciate your help here. And I promise I'm going to try to make things right with Rick when I find him." She reached into her purse, pulled out a business card case and handed a card to the accountant. "Here's my card; if you think of anything else, please don't hesitate to contact me."

The women shook hands, both feeling much better about the entire situation than they had just a few hours before.

Beckett entered the homicide floor and headed to her desk. "Find anything?" she threw out toward Esposito as she dropped into her chair and woke up her computer.

"Nothing else, yet. Haven't heard back from Ryan on the car lot. He said traffic was brutal due to some repair work," Esposito responded. "I'm getting his phone records now."

Kate looked at him with a puzzled look, "Alexis said he left his phone on his desk and took a burner phone. What…."

Esposito interrupted, "Well, you never know. You can use your phone number for other stuff. It's a long shot, but I thought it couldn't hurt."

Beckett nodded and turned back to the file she had been reviewing. Before she could navigate to the correct form, Esposito gave a satisfied, "Bingo!" She pushed back and walked over to look at his screen. There was activity on Rick's account from just a few days ago: Internet access through his phone account. She smiled the predatory smile her team mates were so familiar with, "Now we're getting somewhere!"

To the person who said the last chapter was boring, I'm sorry. Don't know what else to say. I'm not a professional -this is fan fiction after all. And you comment overshadowed anything positive I got from anyone else. You win.