The damp cold surrounding Central Park was penetrating his clothes- and his soul for that matter.
It was filled with bad notions for what was to come, along with a distinct coppery smell and a group of grim- faced patrol officers to vividly paint the scene as they arrived.
A thin young policeman barely thirty years old greeted them with a mixture of forced professionalism and underlying excitement, seemingly star-struck when he met Beckett face to face.
Castle smiled inwardly, enjoying the much-deserved attention surrounding her.
"I am Officer Jackson, I called you earlier, Captain Beckett, Mister Castle. Per your orders, we were keeping an eye on the area. Our officers didn't see anything but they heard a commotion and when they went to check it out, they found this over here…"
Beckett followed the officer to a spot barely two-hundred feet away from their earlier murder scene, the area lit up by a handful of tripod lights that attracted swarms upon swarms of moths.
Several other unis stood in a tight ball nearby, unsure how to proceed.
"There are no bodies but definitely signs of a struggle…and blood."
"Did you hear any gunshots?"
"Negative.", Jackson replied and chaperoned them to a large oak tree off to the left, the damp grass surrounding it disturbed, each small blade seemingly bent in a different direction. Here and there were grooves where the sod had succumbed to the violent fight, causing chunks of dirt to litter the area.
"It's right over here.", he added and pointed at two good sized blood spots, the fluorescent lighting making them stand out against the dark ground.
Castle watched the quiet interaction in front of him, knowing that there was little he could do but stand by at the moment, take in the scene, hoping to detect what others might overlook.
The scene was comfortably far away from the concrete sidewalk, nestled in behind a few bushes, well in the shadows. What little light the handful of nearby lamps offered did nothing but paint menacing shadows across the area, a never-ending cacophony of light and dark, black and white.
Whoever was hiding here, preying on their next victim was comfortable in that position, somebody calculated, full of authority. It was somebody who enjoyed the act of murder more than anybody else they'd ever come across.
Approaching the scene carefully, he watched Beckett crouch down, using her gloved hand to touch some of the blood, then rubbing it between her fingers, confirming that it hadn't even started to coagulate.
"We weren't sure if you wanted for us to call a coroner, Captain. Lab crews are on standby if you want them out."
"There isn't a body this time around…", Castle added quietly, just to see her nod.
"Maybe he was interrupted…but where's our victim?", she began, just to have Jackson tap her on the shoulder.
"We did discover two blood trails, leading off in different directions. But we lost them after a few hundred feet. The grass is just too wet. Maybe once the sun comes up we can try again…"
"We should comb the area in case our victim collapsed and died farther down the park.", Beckett suggested and turned around, meeting his eyes for a brief moment, subtly seeking his input.
"Or our killer. Maybe this time he met his match."
Beckett nodded and was about to reply when her gaze drifted off to the right, her brows suddenly furrowed.
"Hold on, there's something shiny in the grass over there. I just saw it when the breeze made the branches move a bit."
Castle turned around to find it, but the area was lying in the dark once again, far enough away from the artificial light to make it hard to see anything until the sun would rise over the sky scrapers.
With newfound enthusiasm, Beckett walked past him, her black coat brushing his arm as she strode by and slowly approached the spot, her head cocked to the left, then the right, like a cat looking for a mouse.
"Here, let me help…", Jackson offered and reached for his standard issued flashlight, standing slightly behind them as if unsure how to proceed.
"Here…I got it…", Beckett finally said and carefully tiptoed through the grass, hoping not to disturb the crime scene more than necessary as she bent down to retrieve the object.
The slight gasp he heard coming from her was enough to set his senses on high alert and Castle stepped closer, trying to see what she found but Beckett held it clenched in her hand.
"What is it?", he urged, only to see her shake her head in disbelief.
"That's…that's impossible. This is a…a keychain. From the 54th Precinct. That's Espo's."
The reply got stuck in his throat for a moment, his vision suddenly blurring at the unexpected news.
"That…that doesn't make any sense. Are you sure?"
A slight nod would be his only response for a moment as Beckett stripped out of her latex gloves, using them inside out to cradle the keychain, protecting any evidence left on it.
The troubling discovery made his stomach churn, the latest developments too surreal. Why would Espo be here in the middle of the night? And what were the odds of him coming across their killer? Or had this been something else, a robbery attempt gone bad? But why hadn't Espo called it in? Or was there a perfectly rational explanation for this? Had he lost it canvassing the park yesterday? Or did it belong to somebody else from his former precinct? But what were the odds of that?
The bad gut feeling grew more intense as he glanced around, desperately trying to come up with some sort of theory that would explain all this but failing miserably.
With mixed emotions, he watched Beckett reach for her cell to call their missing colleague, the tense seconds eating away at his nerves relentlessly.
Eventually, a shrill ring tone and a display lighting up the darkness farther into the park turned his worry into mind-numbing heartache.
