A/N: As usual, I was a little too ambitious on my writing schedule. I was so proud of myself for turning out a chapter before vacation that I was certain I could write another one while I was on vacation. Wrong. I was very wrong. Perfect weather and a crystal blue lake (along with some local winery visits) made sure that my laptop got opened exactly once-and not a word of this story was written.
So it took me awhile, but here's chapter 26. I've already started chapter 27, so I'm not allowing any excuses on my part. It will be posted by the end of this week.
Beckett's mood was sufficiently better by the time they met up with Brennan and Booth at the precinct. "If you hadn't insulted his intelligence, Castle, you wouldn't have gotten punched. That's all there is to it. Now stop whining, or I will refute whatever manly story you come up with to explain that bruise."
"Insulted his intelligence? Beckett, how can you insult something that doesn't exist? He thought the line, 'To be or not to be,' was from Forrest Gump. As a writer it is my duty to correct ignorance like that." He looked pitiful with the ice pack on his cheekbone. He winced as he adjusted his grip on it.
"If you keep complaining about this I'm going to tell Ryan and Esposito, and then Booth and Brennan, that you were so busy looking at your own reflection in a store front that you ran into a street sign. You know they would believe me. Sit down, be quiet and maybe I'll bring you a fresh ice pack while I grab coffee from the break room."
"You always did have a way of explaining things so I could understand them," he replied, putting on his best Alabama accent. He smiled at his own joke, then winced again as pain lanced through his jaw.
"I'm not your mama. Sit still and I'll be right back." She walked to the break room with two empty mugs and started the lengthy process of making two double cappuccinos. She thought back to their early morning round-up.
They had come up mostly empty. Petey, the dealer who had been pretty high himself when he clocked Castle, had led them to Heeley. Heeley had mentioned, after Castle had provided a danish and coffee and allowed the man to howl in laughter at Petey's handiwork, that there was word of a dealer who was losing it. Heeley had heard the guy would get violent if he didn't get paid. Slice-you-into-pieces violent. Apparently in a way that frightened even the other dealers. In Heeley's words, "There is crazy from doing too many pills, and there's crazy that makes you see red." Nobody knew who it was, but word on the street was that it had gotten worse over the years and that the guy never—ever—got caught. None of the dealers they talked to remembered a rower needing pain pills. After this long, Beckett wasn't surprised.
She poured milk into the two cups and grabbed spoons. Balancing them, she pulled an ice pack out of the first aid kit and tucked it under her arm for Castle. She glanced back at her desk and saw Brennan talking to Castle with Booth standing slightly behind her, listening. Figuring it was something she should be in on, she motioned to Ryan and Esposito as she breezed back to her workspace.
"—seems like there had been drug use for at least a year prior to his death," Brennan finished as the three detectives circled around the desk.
"Whoa, drugs? When did we get to drugs?" Ryan asked.
"This morning," Beckett replied, setting the cappuccinos down and taking her seat. She cracked the ice pack over her knee to get the chemicals mixing together, gave it a shake and handed it to Castle. "Let's get Ryan and Esposito up to speed here." She deferred to Booth as Castle discarded the old ice pack and winced again when he placed the new one to his colorful bruise.
Booth crossed his arms over his chest. "This morning Bones here had a bit of an 'a-ha' moment. What it boils down to is that Max Avery was probably using street drugs to control the pain caused by his condition. When we checked with the Jeffersonian, Hodgins and Cam saw evidence in the samples that he had been using painkillers for over a year. It's not conclusive, but it's a strong lead." He motioned to Beckett and Castle. "What have you got?"
"We didn't get much more than rumors and a lovely shiner for Castle here. But there is word going around that there is a dealer you don't want to mess with. He sees red, gets overly violent when he doesn't get what he wants. And he apparently never gets caught. Rumors have been getting more consistent. I figure we have a dealer who is losing his mind and leaving a trail. We just have to find him."
"That where we come in?" Esposito asked.
Beckett nodded as she sipped her coffee. "Use whatever sources you have and see if we can track this dealer down any further."
"We'll get on it," Ryan added, and the two went back to their desks briskly.
"That brings us to our next agenda item," Booth said.
"We need to get back to D.C. I need to be back in the lab to process the rest of the evidence in a timely manner."
Castle sat up, still cradling his face with the ice pack. "You have to leave?"
Brennan nodded. "I'm sorry, Rick. I work best in my own space and it seems that we need to get all the evidence processed quickly to see if it leads us to anything new. With Angela in and out because of the coming baby, and Hodgins taking time to be certain she is comfortable and cared for, the process at the Jeffersonian is slowed a bit. They need me there to assist in any way I can."
"We'll finish up today and head out tomorrow morning." Booth leaned back onto the desk behind him, hands on his hips. "Bones can do twice as much back home, and with three detectives working the case from here, it shouldn't slow anybody down."
Beckett watched Castle's face turn to annoyance when Booth left him out but he said nothing. Beckett leaned forward with her elbows on her desktop. "That makes sense, you two. We'll have to set up some mode of reliable communication so we can be in touch constantly."
"The Jeffersonian is set up for electronic linking. We'll set up video call feed and data transfer lines before we head out," Brennan replied.
An uncomfortable silence followed. Castle filled the vacancy after a few moments. "Well, my mother is cooking a feast tonight and we were planning on asking you two over anyway. Let's make it a temporary 'farewell' dinner before you head out in the morning. Beckett will be there, as will Alexis. We'd love it if you would join us."
Beckett nodded in agreement.
"Of course, Rick," Brennan said. "That would be a good opportunity for me to introduce Booth to Alexis and Martha. What time would you like us over."
A slight panic washed over Booth's face before he got control.
"Seven o'clock," Castle told them.
"Sounds great," Booth forced out.
"In the meantime, let's all get back to work," Beckett said, logging in to her computer and going over the new information that had come though overnight.
Brennan and Booth went back to the conference room. Beckett noted through her eyelashes that Booth's desk was now empty and he had moved his equipment in with Brennan's. She smiled and looked over at Castle. She rolled her eyes as he tried to drink his cappuccino and hold the ice pack to his face at the same time. Coffee dribbled down his chin and onto his shirt.
"Damn it," he said. The pain that coursed through his jaw at the word caused him to hiss out another couple of swear words. Eventually, he pouted as he whimpered in defeat.
"Would you like a straw?" Beckett asked simply, her eyes back on the screen in front of her as she typed.
Castle just glared at her.
Several hours later, Beckett stood in front of her bedroom mirror with several outfits laid out on the bed. She held each up to her frame in a vain attempt to find something to wear that was befitting of a Martha Rodgers dinner extravaganza. This dress was too fancy, that skirt belonged at a country club event, and those pants just looked like she was going to court. She went through each option twice and sighed. She wondered how she never seemed to have the right outfit when it came to spending time with Richard Castle. She spotted an old sweater in the back of her closet and inspiration struck. The off-white sweater had belonged to her mother and Kate had practically lived in it during the month after her mother had been murdered. It had a wide neck and a little bit of bagginess to it. She pulled on chocolate brown leggings and tugged the sweater on over them. It came to the middle of her thighs. A wide brown belt around her waist cinched in the extra fabric. A pair of strappy heels and she was out the door.
Nothing felt off until she reached the loft's door. Her hand in a fist, prepared to knock, Kate stopped as nervousness made her stomach roll. She wondered what in the hell was going on in her brain. But a moment of quick thinking and she hit upon the fact that she was single. She was going to Castle's place for dinner—and she was single. She wasn't entirely sure why that mattered so much to her stomach, but thinking about candlelight and wine with Rick made her anxious. She was excitedly anxious, certainly, but it was still anxiety that had a grip on her.
She shook it off. This was not a date. It wasn't even a double date. It was a nice dinner with friends.
The elevator ding from down the hall had her hand back in knocking position quickly. A glance toward the sound gave her a perfect shot of Booth and Brennan stepping off the elevator hand in hand—then immediately separating at the sight of her while Booth cleared his throat. As she knocked firmly on the door with a sly smile twitching on her lips, the sound of a stack of pots crashing to the ground came from within the apartment. Beckett shook her head from side to side. As a flour-covered Richard Castle opened the door, she felt her heart flutter for a moment and then still. Anxiety aside, she decided to enjoy what would certainly be an entertaining night.