Wrong Place Wrong Time

Chapter 51

Castle rubbed his eyes and stared again at the surveillance photos of Simmons' territory on his screen. He clicked on one, bringing it to maximum size. "Beckett, does this guy look out of place to you?"

Beckett stretched tiredly and looked at Castle's monitor. "What do you mean?"

"Look at the suit. It's a conservative cut but well fitted. The fabric is high quality. The shoes are Italian," Castle pointed out. "He looks like an up and coming Washington lawyer or staffer. But look at the neighborhood, There's a car repair shop, a bodega, not the kind of place a guy like that would hang out."

"Do we have facial recognition on him?" Beckett inquired.

Castle brought up a second window. "No. Not in the system. I'm going to look for D.C. associates of Bracken and see if I can track him down."

Jordan Shaw strode into the room. "It's after midnight. I need you two functional and you miss things when you're tired. Go home. I'll have a unit follow you back. You can start fresh in the morning."

"I really need to..." Castle protested.

"That wasn't a request, Rick. I have people waiting," Jordan declared, leaving no room for argument.

Beckett navigated the relatively clear New York streets to the loft while Castle looked at his outside mirror. "Black SUV. The FBI hasn't gotten any more subtle."

"No," Beckett agreed, "but if they need to do a bump and run, it's a better car than a Fusion."

Castle nodded. "Point taken, still I wish we had one of George's people on us."

Beckett put a hand on his thigh. "Yeah, me too, but at least they're watching the loft."

Castle and Beckett climbed wearily between the sheets, but Castle found himself staring at the play of the city lights on the ceiling. "You can't sleep either?" Castle asked as Beckett readjusted her pillow.

"Too many things running through my head," Beckett admitted, "and my neck is stiff."

"That last part I can fix," Castle offered, sitting up. "Just lean against me." The muscles in Beckett's neck and shoulders slowly unknotted under Castle's able fingers. He leaned in to feather a kiss on the soft skin above her collarbone.

Beckett arched, gasping at the touch of his lips.

"Kate do you want...?"

Beckett turned, pressing her lips to his in answer. A tsunami of need pushed all thought from their minds, leaving only raw desire. Hands groped, almost with the clumsiness of teens, as pajamas and nightshirt were pulled away. Skin met skin with startling heat, fanning their urgency to a flame. Castle feasted on Beckett, only to grow ever hungrier, while her body sought ever more of his touch. Their joining was of wild desperation, creating a world in which nothing existed but urgent need. Beckett moaned as the seed of sensation grew too slowly, moving faster to feed it, while Castle found the center of her feminine longing.

The explosion was sudden and shocking, throwing them apart. Struggling for breath, Castle held Beckett to his side, as the boon of sleep was at last bestowed on their exhausted bodies.

Beckett carefully bore two cups of coffee to the bed where Castle still slept. She passed one in front of his face allowing the siren call of the rich aroma to penetrate his senses. His dark lashes fluttered open framing the deep blue of his eyes. "Good morning."

Beckett lightly stroked the hair on his forehead as he sat up and took the steaming cup she offered. "There's an FBI team downstairs waiting for us. They just called."

"What time is it?" Castle asked.

"It's nine," Beckett informed him. "When we finally slept, we really slept. I've only been up long enough to make coffee."

Castle grinned. "I think we found the best sleep aid known to man."

"And woman," Beckett added, smiling saucily. "I'm sure Jordan would be happy that we followed her orders to get some - rest. But now we really do have to get going."


Castle pored over listings, pictures, and videos of Bracken's staff and associates looking for a match to the young man he had spotted the night before. "Beckett, I've found him."

Beckett put aside the printout she was examining. "Who is he?"

"His name is Jason Marks. He's one of Bracken's staffers. He's our connection between Bracken and Simmons," Castle declared excitedly.

"Not yet, Castle," Beckett cautioned. "He's just in the right vicinity. For all we know, he could be visiting his mother or trying to find a hooker. We need to catch him with Simmons or at least one of his known lieutenants. We can ask Jordan to put him under surveillance."

Castle and Beckett walked down the hall to where Jordan had set up her temporary office. After Castle's explanation, Jordan picked up the phone. Her eyes darkened.

"What's wrong?" Castle asked.

"We're a little late," Jordan reported. "Jason Marks was found murdered this morning in lower Manhattan. The 12th Precinct picked up the case. In fact, your team, Ryan and Esposito are on it. We'll need to coordinate with them."


"So who are you working for on this case, Detective," Gates asked, "The FBI or the NYPD?"

"Sir," Beckett told her, "I'm working to solve Jason Marks' murder."

"We're all on the same team, Captain," Castle added.

"Mr. Castle, you're on no one's team," Gates asserted. "You don't work for the NYPD or the FBI, but you're here and for some reason Agent Shaw regards you as useful. Now here's what's going to happen: Ryan and Esposito have the lead on this case, that's not going to change. You will work with them, but they have charge of the investigation. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," Beckett agreed while Castle nodded.

"Now go talk to your pals," Gates ordered.

Beckett and Castle met Ryan and Esposito at the murder board. "Guys," Beckett asked softly, "can we go talk somewhere?" They clustered around the espresso machine in the break room with Castle making a show of loudly steaming lattes while they talked in low tones.

"Beckett, what's this all about?" Ryan asked.

"Jason Marks worked for Bracken, and Castle and I think he's the connection between Bracken and Vulcan Simmons' drug operation." Beckett explained.

"Vulcan Simmons?" Esposito exclaimed. "What does he have to do with Bracken?"

"Look, we don't have the whole picture yet," Beckett continued. "It looks like Bracken is using drug money to fund his political career and Jason Marks may have been a go between, but so far there's no proof. Do you have any traffic cam footage from where the body was found?"

"It just came in," Ryan told her, "but there may not be anything helpful. "Lanie said Marks was killed elsewhere and dumped."

"Marks was seen in Washington Heights. That may be where he bought it," Castle suggested.

"We'll check the cars coming from that direction, but it sounds like a long shot," Ryan offered.

"Ryan," Beckett encouraged, "If anyone can dig something out of video footage, it's you."

Ryan carefully examined a view of the trunk of a black Lincoln, before saving it to a file and sending it to the large screen in Tech. He enlarged the area just above the bumper as much as he could without losing resolution, before calling the others into the room. "What do you see?" He asked.

Castle stared at the image. "I see blood."