"What have we got?" Beckett asked as she approached the crime scene. They had been called to a residence in Lenox Hill, just a little after noon.

"Benita Ruiz," Esposito answered her, reading from an ID card he had pulled from the handbag hanging in the coat closet by the entrance. "Thirty-seven years old, from Washington Heights." He continued to read.

"Washington heights? What's she doing here, then?" Beckett questioned, curious as to the whereabouts of the homeowners.

"She has cards for a cleaning company in her bag – maybe she's employed here?" he explained before slipping the woman's ID into an evidence bag and pointing Beckett in the direction of their scene.

She tried to prepare for the scene ahead of her – as much as you possibly can with the very little information you're given before arrival. As she rounded the corner into the kitchen, the first thing she noted was blood splatter across the marble floor. Across the room, face down on the floor, was a petite woman laying in a pool of blood. Behind her, the door to the terrace was wide open – the killer must have entered through there.

"Hey, Lanie." She greeted her friend, who was examining the body.

"No Castle?" The medical examiner sounded disappointed.

"I assume cause of death was…" She motioned to the mess of their victim's bloody, matted hair – choosing to ignore the change of topic… for now.

"Yep – single GSW to the back of the head." Lanie pointed a gloved finger to expose the entry wound. Noting her friend's troubled expression, she continued, "You can take solace in the fact that she never saw this coming – and she would have been killed instantly… she didn't suffer at all."

And Beckett did find that somewhat comforting – knowing that Ms Ruiz didn't feel the fear of knowing she was about to die… and that she was never in pain.

"Can't say that for the homeowner, unfortunately." Ryan said, entering the room.

"There's another body?" Beckett hadn't been forewarned of a double homicide…

"No… he's been transferred to New York Presbyterian… but it's not looking too hopeful right now."

Beckett nodded her understanding – however, she didn't seem to understand at all. The scene in front of her – it seemed so expertly done… how was it that the homeowner had survived? Was it a botched murder-suicide? She looked around the room… the were no signs of another attack in this room. The blood splatter on the floor in front of them didn't appear to have been smudged or smeared – meaning the killer would have had to exit from the other side of the kitchen. Beckett moved around the room, careful to not contaminate the scene, and continued down the hallway. CSU seemed to be gathering around the room at the very end.

"This where the homeowner was found?" Beckett asked, approaching.

"Yeah… we're still combing through… But detective Ryan has most of our notes so far."

Beckett craned her neck, getting a better view into the room. One look at the set up was enough to explain her confusion – the chair sitting in the middle of the room, the rope, the duct tape… their killer wanted information.

"I'll let you get back to it." She smiled, heading back to the kitchen.

"So… who exactly is the homeowner?" she asked as she approached her team.

He couldn't believe his luck – or lack thereof – when Beckett had called about a case not even five minutes after he had agreed to an impromptu meeting at Black Pawn. He had been itching for a case… for a chance to get back in the field with Beckett and the boys all week.

But now that his meeting was all wrapped up, there was nothing stopping him from making his way directly to the precinct.

Meanwhile, at the precinct, Beckett had made a start on putting together the murder board. Centred was the photo of Benita Ruiz they had taken from the DMV database. Beckett stared at the photo – as she often did at the beginning of a case – a million thoughts and questions running through her mind.

"She looks… hopeful." Castle stated, bringing Beckett from her thoughts. He leant back on the desk, beside her – something they had done many times before. "Sorry I'm late… I hear there was a survivor?"

"Uh, yeah…" she remembered she had sent Ryan to follow up on that… "Ryan should be back soon."

"I talked to Ruiz's boss – Carter Cruise. He said that Ruiz worked at the Smith residence once a week for the past three years. Usually Monday's, but she was sick earlier in the week, so she rescheduled for this morning. Cruise said she probably would have arrived around 6am." Esposito walked over to the duo, reading notes from his notepad. "Good to see you, bro." he finished, with a smile. The elevator 'dinged', and Ryan hurried out.

"So, we've confirmed that Smith – the homeowner – is definitely the man that was taken to Presbyterian?" Beckett asked, not to anyone in particular – she just hoped someone could confirm or deny with 100% certainty.

"We have now." Ryan said, attaching a clip to a DMV photo and slapping it up on the murder board. "Michael Smith, lawyer, prominent in certain circles but mainly keeps to himself. He's worked some pretty large-scale cases – so someone targeting him for information really isn't that much of a stretch… but most of his big cases were decades ago…"

Ryan's voice trailed off as Castle stared at the picture in front of him. His brain tried to convince him that Smith was an excessively common surname… and Michael really wasn't that unique, either. But there was no mistaking this – the man pictured on their murder board was the one and only Mr Smith… the man who had been protecting Beckett since her shooting. His head had never felt so light – and if he hadn't had been leaning on the desk already, he would have had to take a seat in fear of fainting. He focused on his breathing… he didn't want to show the other's that he had been overtaken with a newfound sense of fear. Not fear for himself, though. Fear for Beckett… little did she know, a target had just been painted on her back. With Smith fighting for his life, how was he supposed to ensure Beckett's safety?

"You okay, Castle?" Beckett's voice broke through his fear. He felt a sudden sharp pain in his palms, where he had been digging his nails into the flesh. He whimpered, looking at the damage he had accidentally inflicted on himself. "You're bleeding!"

She took his hands into her own, reaching across her desk and grabbing tissues from the top drawer. She placed them into his palms to soak up the small amount of blood.

"I'm fine." He managed, taking the tissues from her and walking to sit in his chair by her desk. "Do we know if they managed to get whatever information it was that they wanted from Smith?" he regained himself – if they were going to solve this case, they needed to have their head in the game… all of them.

Beckett couldn't hide her concern for her partner – her brows furrowed, and she refused to take her eyes off his face, studying it for any clue to possibly explain his behaviour just now. Ryan looked at her, as if to ask for permission to continue talking about the case – but when her eyes never met his, he pushed on.

"We can't be sure. The filing cabinets had been searched and CSU found remnants of documents in the shredder and the fireplace… but we may never know what those documents are in relation to – if they're even linked to the case at all."

Castle hung his head low, taking another second to collect his thoughts. "Is smith… is he going to make it?"

"Do you know him?" Beckett asked, before Ryan had a chance to answer. She didn't understand why Castle hadn't just said that he knew Smith… Why would he shut her out?

He looked up, meeting her eyes. He could see they were filled with concern… concern for him, when she should be concerned for her own safety.

"No." he lied.

And she knew it.