Rick bolted down the stairs, heart in his throat. He could hear Beckett's footsteps clattering behind him. It sounded like she was wearing heels, and even as he took the stairs three at a time, he couldn't help but wonder why on earth a woman that tall needed to wear heels to a job this intense.
He heard her call Stop! but he ignored it, his pulse pounding in his ears. Her rapid footsteps were getting closer. She was catching up. He -
He heard a cry, and looked back up to see her falling down the stairs, her body hitting the landing with a thud.
She was only halfway up a flight, and he almost stopped to see if she was okay, but then he remembered he needed to get away from her.
"Castle -"
He kept running.
He heard her start again, and he held his breath. He was almost to the main floor.
Castle was about to stay on the stairs, run into the basement wing, and either sprint for the emergency exit or hide in among the crowded, overstocked shelves, but he caught a glimpse of what looked like a kindergarten class, walking together towards the front doors, hand-in-hand.
Ignoring the grumpy volunteer asking him to kindly stop running, Rick bolted towards the class, slowing to a walk as he got close to them. The last one, a little boy with sandy blonde hair, looked up at him curiously, seemed to decide he was harmless, and looked back at his teacher.
A glance back confirmed what he'd hoped - Beckett was watching him, gun in her hand, but he was surrounded by innocent children; she wasn't going to point the weapon anywhere near him. Her eyes met his. She started running.
He hit the door, sprinted across the street, and was around the corner and out of sight before Beckett's voice, crying Stop! Castle, stop! rang out across the plaza.
Kate raced through the doors, stumbling on the bruised knee that was burning now, down the front steps, panting as she scanned the crowd. Nothing. No Castle. He was gone.
"Damn it!"
She heard Ryan and Esposito calling for her. "Yo, Beckett! What's going on?"
She sighed, running her hands through her hair, so frustrated she wanted to kick something. "He got away." Kate gritted her teeth. "I almost had him."
Esposito trotted down the block, looking through the crowd, but came back shrugging. "Nothing. Long gone."
Ryan looked back and forth between them.
"So what the hell was he doing here?"
Rick's pulse was still pounding against his ribcage by the time he got back to his tiny little flat. He splashed some water on his face, leaning on the sink, before sinking onto the thin mattress.
Too close. Way, way too close.
He couldn't help but wonder about this woman chasing him. He knew the branches of law enforcement; he'd recognized the star-shaped badge of a U.S. Marshal. Beckett didn't fit - she was too young, too gorgeous to be what she was.
And he didn't understand. She was chasing him, but the look in her eyes, the hesitation before she'd followed him down the stairs - did she really want to catch him?
Who are you, Deputy Beckett?
She seemed like a riddle. He liked riddles.
But for now, he already had one to solve.
Rick had mastered the art of convincing prank calls as a child, and thanks to a very gullible directory clerk, had the address he wanted in minutes.
Joshua Davidson lived in the Pullman neighborhood, in an apartment in one of the old rowhouses. It wasn't even difficult to get inside; Rick grabbed a dirty rag from the nearest dumpster, wrapped it around his fist, and broke the basement window, crawling through and up into the first-floor apartment. He couldn't help but think that should have been more of a challenge.
Okay. Clues.
He started opening desk drawers.
Kate's desk phone rang as she adjusted the icepack on her knee. "Beckett."
"Beckett, it's Karpowski. We have a guy on the line, claiming he's Richard Castle."
"Another one?" That made thirteen. Great.
"Sorry."
She sighed, exchanging glances with Ryan and Esposito. Another Castle, she mouthed. "Put him through."
There was a click, and she heard the change in ambient noise. "This is Beckett."
"Do you remember what I said to you in the tunnel?"
She froze.
Ryan and Esposito immediately noticed the change in her posture, the sharp intake of breath; Ryan scribbled really him? on his notepad. Kate nodded, swallowing hard. He dashed out to grab Tory as she turned her attention back to the man on the phone.
"It was noisy, dark. I think - you said something like, um -" she took a breath. "You didn't kill your wife."
"And do you remember what you told me?"
Kate dug her fingernails into her armrest. "I remember you were pointing my gun at me."
"You said, 'Tell me a better story.'"
His voice was different than she remembered. It was calm now. Deliberate. Low and melodious. For a man living a constant game of cat and mouse, he sounded far more collected than he had any right to be.
"Yeah, I did."
"Did you mean it?"
She shut her eyes, breathing through her nose, her heartbeat flickering, rapid and hectic.
"Do you have a better story to tell me?"
"Almost."
"Castle. Rick. Look. I'm not trying to solve a puzzle, here."
"Well, I am trying to solve a puzzle. And I just found a big piece."
"Castle. Castle -"
There was a loud click, and Kate steeled herself, but - no dial tone.
He didn't hang up.
She looked up at Esposito, who was still sitting across from her desk. "He left it off the hook. He didn't hang up."
Her cell phone rang. "Beckett, it's Ryan. Tory says it's south side. Pullman. I'm getting the address now."
Kate Beckett sat at Joshua Davidson's desk, right where Richard Castle had sat not an hour earlier, and took a deep breath, scanning the surroundings. The forensics unit said his fingerprints were focused here. He'd broken in through the basement, come up here, and spent at least fifteen minutes at this desk.
What were you looking for, Castle?
She heard heavy footsteps in the hall, and a taut, annoyed man's voice. "What is this, a trenchcoat convention? Come on, what the hell's going on here?"
She glanced up, taking him in coolly. Joshua Davidson was tall, solidly built, handsome in an aggressive way. Clean-cut dark hair, unsurprising; records showed he was a former police officer.
"You had a break-in, Mr. Davidson."
He stared down at her, chewing on what she was sure was a polite comment.
"I sure as hell hope you're a cop."
She shook her head. "Kate Beckett, U.S. Marshals Office. Mr. Davidson, this morning a fugitive named Richard Castle broke into your apartment."
"Who?"
Esposito handed him Castle's mugshot.
"Oh, yeah. That author, the guy who killed his wife." He handed the photo back. "Why was he here?"
"We were hoping you could tell us."
Davidson shrugged. "I never met the guy. I don't even think I've read any of his books."
'Did you know his wife?"
"No."
"What line of work are you in, Mr. Davidson?" Her lips quirked. "Cardiac surgeon, perhaps?"
He didn't look amused. "Security."
"Who do you work for?"
"After I left the CPD, I joined a private security firm. I handle security for a political campaign now."
'Which one?"
Davidson paused, and Kate noticed the faintest flicker of hesitation on his face.
"Senator William Bracken."