A/N: Well, the fact that I'm posting this surprises me just as much as it surprises you all, I guarantee it. This chapter was written over a year ago, but turns out I never actually posted. I hope you all enjoy it, and check the next chapter for an explanation of everything.
"Hey, what's up?" Espo cautiously answered the phone.
"We need a favor," I prompted as Kate and I began driving back to the loft. We would have gone to the precinct, but Kate wasn't welcome by McCord, and I knew without her steady presence I wouldn't be able to hold it together. So until we got our answer, there was nothing we could do anyway, so we figured we'd go eat dinner.
"You guys are off solving this case on your own aren't you?" he asked, his voice hinting that he already knew the answer.
Kate glanced at me and spoke into the speaker phone, "You wouldn't tell on us if we were?"
"Course not," Ryan reassured. Apparently Espo's phone was on speaker too.
"What do you guys need?" Esposito asked.
"We think someone may have hacked into the security network at the Prince's Bay Post Office in Staten Island," I replied.
"You think it's him?"
"If it was hacked, it was him," Kate answered as we turned the corner.
"Okay, we'll ask Tory and get back to you soon."
"Thanks guys," Kate said.
"No problem… just, uh," Ryan stuttered, his voice quiet and genuine, "please be careful. This son of a bitch isn't dumb."
"Yeah, we don't know what he's capable of," Esposito added.
"We'll be fine, don't worry. Thanks again," I said, pleasantly surprised at their concern. After being gone from the precinct for a month while Kate was in D.C., I'd almost forgotten the closeness I had with Esposito and Ryan. The truth of the matter was, though, they really cared and I knew would both be willing to do everything in their power to get Alexis home and safe again.
"We'll call you back later after we talk to Tory."
"Alright, bye," I hung up the phone as we pulled up to the building.
A few long hours and a small dinner later, we were in the kitchen, done cleaning up and torturing ourselves with the awaiting call. I was leaning against the counter, and Kate was sitting in one of the barstools. Both of us were exhausted both mentally and physically, and knew we were only stressing ourselves out even more by not bothering to distract ourselves. Yet, we weren't even talking; the room had fallen to silence and neither of us wanted to force it to pick back up. Sometimes silence spoke louder than words. Thus, when my phone rang loudly against my back pocket, we were both startled.
Within a second I had whipped it out and put it on speaker, "Please tell me you've got a name."
"Hey Castle," it was Tory who spoke, not Esposito or Ryan, "So I logged into their security network, and as you guys guessed, they were hacked. I traced it back to a laptop, and we got lucky. A name and address."
Kate couldn't hold back the grin that broke onto her face.
"That's amazing. Can you text it to us?" she asked.
"Of course. Give me thirty seconds and it'll be there. I've got to go but good luck. Between you and me, it doesn't seem like McCord's investigation is going anywhere, so I really hope you guys can get him and get Alexis back."
"Thanks, Tory. We'll talk to you later."
"Okay, bye."
We waited in silence, staring intensely at the black screen, waiting for it to light up with an address that could never provide us with the comfort we wanted.
Ten seconds went by. Fifteen. Twenty. I was just about to text Tory when it came through. We had the address and the identity of the man who'd taken my daughter. Eric Henebaguer.
10 minutes later we stood outside a shabby apartment in West Manhattan, each of us with our back up against the wall on either side of the door, Kate's backup gun in my hand.
"Let's go," she said, turning. I didn't have the patience anymore to knock or try the handle, or wait for him to come get the door. This was Alexis we were talking about, and if she was in there, or even if he was there by himself, I wasn't going to waste another second without knowing where she was. And so, it wasn't a gentle fist repeatedly coming in contact with the wooden door, it was the bottom of my right foot.
The door and it's frame came out of the wall easily thanks to the bad structure of the building and the poor upkeep. One second it was on the ground in front of us, and the next we were inside to find the confirmation of something I'd suspected but had pushed out of my head. The entire studio apartment was barren. No traces of anything.
An overwhelming mix of sadness, anger, and disappointment filled my mind.