Kate paged through Castle's volumes of notes. For all the drama and gossip surrounding his personal life, he'd spent his professional life diligently planning his work. He had pages full of plot summaries, character sketches, outlines and story maps. His notes to himself read like a voice; they were speechlike, almost a conversation with himself.
She kept seeing him in her mind's eye, his face taut, eyes blazing, hand shaking, holding her gun as he stood there and didn't kill her.
I didn't kill my wife.
One notebook in particular caught her eye. It was a research notebook. He'd taken over a hundred pages of notes on true crime stories, 1930's detectives, famous crimes, unsolved crimes, and some of the Chicago mob wars.
The prosecutor had used this notebook as evidence, showing intent and planning, but Kate frowned, reading more carefully. The notes jotted here weren't focused on method so much as they were focused on story. He was interested in the tales of these crimes, noting key players, making observations to himself on locations, possible motives, and even speculating who was really behind the unsolved cases.
"What have you got there, Beckett?"
She glanced up, startled; she hadn't even heard Ryan walk into her office. "Castle's notebooks. This one has tons of research, notes, casefiles. He even tried his hand at solving some open cases."
"Huh." Ryan peered over her shoulder. "So he's a crime junkie?"
"I guess so." She set the notebook down. "With that amount of detail, I'll bet he spent a decent amount of time at the library, looking that stuff up."
"You want to see if anyone there knows where he is?"
She half-smiled at him. "Might as well try."
"I'll see if Esposito's free. We'll make it a family adventure."
The Chicago Public Library was one of Rick's favorite places in the whole world.
Safely clad in his new fake glasses, slight age lines and touches of grey in his hair, he walked in and took a deep breath, drawing in the familiar, gentle smell of old books, polished wood, the hum of quiet conversation.
He took the elevator to the sixth floor, heading for the sign reading Microfilm Archives, and breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the woman behind the desk - a white-haired woman in a tidy flowered blouse and skirt, engrossed in a book.
"Excuse me?"
She glanced up, smiling. "Can I help you?"
"Vera." He grinned. "Don't tell me I'm that good at stage makeup."
Vera stared at him for a long moment, and he could see the second she recognized him. Her whole face lit up.
"Oh, dear God, Richard -"
She engulfed him in a warm, tight hug, pulling him into her smaller frame with fierce hands. Rick felt his throat getting tight. "Hi, Vera."
"I can't believe this," she murmured, pulling back to look at him carefully. "What happened to you?"
"Like I said. Makeup." He grinned. "Had to look less handsome somehow."
"Not easy for you."
"Vera, as much as I wish I could just chat, I need your help."
She nodded. "Anything."
"I'm looking for someone."
Kate and her fellow deputies found themselves stopped by a particularly fierce-looking volunteer. "Can I help you?" the young man murmured.
"Yes -" she glanced at his nametag - "Mr. Decker. We -"
"Could I ask you to please speak more quietly?"
Kate stared at the earnest young man. Oh. He's serious.
"Right." She held up her badge. "U.S. Marshals Office. I need to speak with your director."
Mr. Decker blinked at the badge like he'd never seen a five-pointed star.
"Um. Okay."
"So - what did the logo look like?"
Rick shut his eyes, blocking out everything else, remembering the pen he'd picked up while he waited for the police to arrive.
"It was - here."
He started sketching on the back of a spare sheet of paper. "Like that. This part was blue, and this was red." He sighed. "That's all I remember."
Vera blinked, picking up the paper, scanning it carefully. "Hmm."
"What?"
"Does this look familiar?"
She dug through the pencil cup on her desk, pulling one out. "Was it like this?"
Rick took the pen, his stomach turning.
"Yeah. That's the logo. That's it, exactly. But - it was a different pen." He turned over the plastic ball-point pen in his hand. "It was heavier. A fountain pen."
"Well, this is from a campaign trail," Vera mused. "A nicer pen, maybe one given to a donor? Sounds like you're looking for a wealthy patron." She paused. "Maybe - was it one of Meredith's - male friends?"
Rick let out a mirthless chuckle. "You'd have to be more specific, Vera."
She patted his shoulder. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay. And you're not wrong."
She put the pen back. "Well, it's not a sure thing, but do you want to check newspaper photos? If you're looking for a donor, maybe he got photographed at a fundraiser, or a rally."
Rick nodded. "Good idea."
Vera took him back to the microfilm machine, sorting through newspaper records and pulling out the ones that might help. "I'm always happy to help you research, but I much prefer when it's for a book."
"So do I." Rick took the reels she handed him. "Have you - have you talked to Alexis?"
"Not terribly recently, but she stops by when she's in the library." Vera smiled at him softly. "She misses you. Joe and I miss you, too."
She settled him at the microfilm machine. "Call me if you need any more help."
Castle kissed her wrinkled cheek. "You're an angel. You know, you are aiding and abetting a fugitive. You could be in real trouble for this."
She pinched his cheek. "You wrote a novel about my life, kiddo. I can handle myself in rough times."
"You know," he told her, "to date, Blue Butterfly is still my best-selling book."
The library manager welcomed them into his office. "I'm sorry about Brad. He takes - well, everything - a little too seriously."
"Thank you, Mr. -" Kate paused.
"Montgomery. Roy Montgomery." He shook her hand.
"Mr. Montgomery, I'm Deputy Kate Beckett; this is Kevin Ryan and Javier Esposito. We're looking for a fugitive."
"Richard Castle?"
"How do you know?"
Montgomery shrugged. "I can't think of any other reason you'd be at the library. Rick Castle did a lot of work here on his books."
"You know him well?"
"Not well, but I do know him. He's been coming here all his life."
"We'd like to look at his library records, if that's all right."
Montgomery nodded. "Of course. Let me pull them up for you."
Rick rubbed his eyes, peering through the lens at what must have been his thousandth issue of the newspaper.
Vera leaned over his shoulder. "Any luck?"
"Nothing yet."
"Well, keep at it."
He didn't even know how many more newspaper articles he looked through before he clicked to one more and froze.
"Vera."
She bustled back in from her desk. "What is it, sweetie?"
"Vera." He swallowed hard. "It's him."
She paused, her eyes going wide. "Are you - are you sure?"
"I saw his face, Vera." Rick moved, letting her take a look through the lens. "It's him."
Check-out records in hand, the three deputies headed for the elevator.
"You think this is going to help?" Espo asked.
Kate shrugged. "Can't hurt." She stabbed the elevator button. "Jeez, how slow is this thing?"
Ryan flipped through the records. "No recent activity. Not surprising, I guess. But come on, he wouldn't come back here. The library? What's he going to do here, hide in the middle of the encyclopedia? That's just wonky."
Esposito just rolled his eyes. Kate frowned. "Wonky?"
"Yeah." Ryan grinned.
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know." Ryan shrugged. "It's just wonky."
Kate pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ryan, stop using words that don't have any meaning. This is taking too long. I'm taking the stairs."
She stalked off to the stairwell, leaving Ryan and Esposito in front of the elevator doors.
Ryan huffed. "At least I didn't say 'boyo.'"
"You take care of yourself, Richard." Vera hugged him tight. "And if you need anything - anything - you come to us. Joe and I can help."
Rick smiled, tucking photocopies of the article into his pocket. "I want to keep you out of trouble, Vera."
She fixed him with a stern look. "Rick. Joe and I stole a diamond necklace from a gangster. We may not be young, but we don't scare easily."
"You take care," he told her. "When this is all over, I'm having you and Joe to the loft for dinner again."
She nodded, her eyes twinkling. "I'll hold you to that."
He took a deep breath, put his fake glasses back on, and headed for the stairs.
The stairs gave her a chance to think.
Chasing fugitives was one thing. She could catch a killer. She knew how to find out what they wanted, and use that to follow them. But this? This was hard to pin down. She didn't understand Richard Castle.
Kate paused, glancing back down the stairwell at the man a floor away. A tall man, broad-shouldered, with thick, greying brown hair, and she thought she saw the edge of glasses.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
She clenched the railing.
"Rick?"
He looked up, completely involuntarily, and she stared Richard Castle in the eye.