Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or the recognizable characters who appear in this story. Any other names, for characters or businesses, are fictional, uncompensated, or are in the public domain.

October 26

Beckett sighed as she entered the precinct and saw that the chair next to her desk was empty. There'd been no word from Castle all day, not since he left the hospital against medical advice sometime early this morning. Rather than try to track him down, Beckett remained with the rest of the NYPD and NSA staff watching the New York Public Library in the hopes of catching Cole. As Jeffers had predicted, though, Cole never showed. After five hours they admitted defeat and headed back to the 12th precinct to consider their next move. Beckett had hoped to find Castle here waiting at the precinct, maybe even with coffee in hand, even though she knew such a scenario was unlikely.

"Conference room in ten minutes," Gates called out as she walked by Beckett, Ryan, and Esposito. While the boys – who were still clearly not entirely comfortable with each other following the secrets that Cole exposed – huffed in resignation, Beckett hustled away from her desk. While they likely suspected she was off to feed her caffeine habit (and that would've been a welcome trip), she had a different destination in mind.

"Tory?" Beckett called out after quickly navigating through the precinct while taking a route likely to lose or confuse any NSA agents watching her. "Do you have a few minutes? I'd like to see the precinct surveillance tapes from this morning."

Tory, bless her, launched into action even while she looked confused. Beckett knew she couldn't do much to track down Castle, thanks to the "Tyson Protocols" he concocted with his attorney, but there were a few leads to check. Especially since she had a nagging feeling that the timing of his departure from the hospital wasn't coincidental…

"I'm afraid it's going to take at least twenty minutes, maybe longer," Tory admitted as she clicked through several screens on her computer. "Do you want a dump of everything or is there something on which you want me to focus?"

Beckett glanced quickly at her watch before admitting to herself that she couldn't be twenty minutes late to Gates' meeting. With another quick calculation, she decided to trust Tory and ask for exactly what she wanted. "I need to know if Castle came into the precinct this morning. He would've been here between 5:30 and 9:00, probably closer to around 7:00," she guessed, extrapolating how long it would've taken to get here and when he'd have the best chance of not being noticed by the staff who were diverted to the Library. "If he was here, I need to know where he went or what he did."

"Is he missing again?!" Tory asked worriedly, before blushing and looking down at her keyboard.

Interesting, Beckett thought, slightly unsettled.

"I don't think so," Beckett allowed, "though we've lost contact with him. I'm trying to track him down."

Tory, head still bowed, nodded and returned to clicking at her computer. "Do you want me to bring whatever I find to you or do you want to come back for it?"

Despite the odd conversation, Beckett smiled. Whatever else might be said of her, Tory was as sharp as the detectives she helped. "Will you swing by when you have something? If it makes sense, I'll wave you in. Otherwise, I'll come back after my next meeting."

"So, was our surveillance blown or was the whole NYPL set-up a ruse by Mister Castle?"

Agent Jeffers' opening question put the NYPD detectives immediately on the defensive.

"How could you say that?" Beckett countered, offended on behalf of her partner. "Castle's the only one who figured Cole out. And now you think he's protecting that maniac?"

"Unless," Gates interjected before Jeffers can answer, "you have reason to believe that Cole's skills would enable him to compromise Mister Castle?"

"No," Jeffers answered quietly, unaffected by Beckett's anger or Gates' icy insinuation. "I was suggesting neither of those theories. As to the first, I don't expect Mister Castle would knowingly or willingly protect Cole. Quite the opposite. And," she continued, turning her focus from Beckett to Gates, "Cole's skills do not allow him to subvert the will of his targets, merely to learn their secrets. That could, of course, lead to indirect control through blackmail," she said slightly airily, making it clear that the NSA has used this approach, "but there is nothing in the dynamic with Mister Castle to suggest such has happened here."

"Besides," Jeffers added with her monotone delivery, though with an ever so slight quirk to her lips, "blackmail works when the target fears exposure. Mister Castle's foibles are already rather public."

Irritated at the shot at her partner, Beckett tried to move the conversation along. "So, why did you insinuate Castle's lead about the NYPL was bogus?"

Before Jeffers could respond, the answer came from an unexpected source as Espo provided a simple, short answer while cutting a fierce look at his partner: "Trust."

Jeffers nodded but the others at the table simply turned to the detective for a more fulsome explanation.

"Look, what's important to Castle?" Espo starts, slightly uncomfortable being the center of attention given the current fissures in his working group and the presence of the Feds. "His daughter and his mom. That's it," he says with finality, though he can't help but look quickly at Beckett. "So, he's doing whatever he can to find and protect them."

"Alone?" Ryan interjected. "That doesn't make any sense. If he wants to find them, it'd be faster with our help."

"Says the stalker who wants to bone Castle's daughter," Espo grumbled in reply, softly but still easily within audibility of everyone in the room.

"Stop it," Beckett said repressively. "Save that crap for partner's counseling. We're trying to find Cole."

"But this is the point, Detective Beckett," Jeffers replied, regaining the attention of the group. "Cole excels at disrupting group dynamics and sowing distrust. Considering what Cole revealed or claimed to reveal about each of you," she said with a nod towards the detectives, "it's not hard to imagine that Mister Castle might prefer to work alone. He clearly has the resources and connections to pursue this without assistance, as well as some clout to attempt to navigate the consequences of operating without jurisdiction or authorization. In those circumstances, it's not unreasonable to consider that the NYPL stake-out was contrived to enable him to slip unaccompanied from the hospital."

Beckett didn't like the implications of Jeffers' theory, but she had to grudgingly admit the possibility. In the past, she's fairly confident Castle wouldn't have pursued such an approach. But, considering how rocky things had been between the partners since her shooting and isolated recovery, the foundation of trust between them had eroded. Add in Cole's lies about her not thinking about Castle over the summer, and it's not so difficult to imagine Castle deciding to act alone.

Depressed, she looked at Espo and Ryan only to see that they, too, seemed to be ruminating on Jeffers' theory. Then, almost as if called by her thoughts, Beckett noticed Tory lingering within view of the conference room. Considering the possibility that this would be a good time for a mental regroup, Beckett waved her in to provide a slight break in the proceedings.

"I've got the footage you requested," Tory offered when the group's collective attention focused on her entry. "He was here this morning."

"Mister Castle?" Jeffers asked, getting a nod in reply. "Show us, please."

It took only a few minutes for Tory to plug her laptop into a display in the corner of their conference room, pulling up a quartered image that showed the feeds from four different security cameras within the precinct. Then, after a few minutes, she began her presentation.

"The timestamp is at the top of each image. I've focused on the main cameras with footage of Castle, but there are others if you need to see everything. He first shows up here," she says, pointing to the upper left quadrant, "at 6:53. He entered through the front door, went past the security desk, and was waved in by the desk sergeant. Then," she says, pointing to the upper right quadrant, "he took the stairs up to Homicide. He paused on the stairs, then proceeded to Detective Beckett's work area. Here," she pointed to the lower left quadrant, "you can see that he poked around for a while, before, ummm, opening Detective Beckett's desk and, ahhh, extracting a folder of documents."

The reasons for Tory's stuttering were clear to everyone in the room without needing to look at Beckett's signs of rising ire. First, what Tory described as 'opening her desk' could've also been described as 'jimmying the lock to her desk.' And as far as the 'extracting a folder of documents,' that description excluded the process, shown on the tape, of Castle withdrawing the false bottom of the desk drawer to reveal the concealed documents.

And while Beckett looked offended, Gates looked both troubled and intrigued by Mister Castle's criminality and Beckett's furtive filing.

"Castle flips through the documents, closes up the desk, and leaves with the folder," Tory continued, finally pointing to the last quadrant. "He exited the building through the fire stairs at 7:11, eighteen minutes after he entered. The last footage we have, which I'm not displaying here, shows him hailing cab number 1974 and heading east away from the precinct."

"Thank you, Miss Ellis. Will you please leave the laptop? I'll have you notified when our meeting concludes," Gates dismissed Tory, who looked somber at having provided the footage that was likely to get Castle into serious trouble.

Once Tory left, Gates turned immediately to Beckett. "What was in the file?"

With a heavy sigh, Beckett released thoughts of dissembling. "My case notes from the Delbruck, Hilltop, and Kemp cases. I suspected that our case files might 'disappear' if Castle's hunch about federal participation proved true and wanted to have a hard copy."

"So, you withheld evidence," Jeffers summarized crossly.

"Of course not. You have all my electronic files. And I haven't seen a subpoena," Beckett replied undaunted. "Failing to voluntarily offer redundant information isn't a crime."

"Perhaps not, but it's poor form and shows…" Jeffers began before Gates interrupted the brewing fight.

"Why would Castle take the file?" she asked to return to the issue at hand. "You've worked with him for years and know better than anyone else what Mister Castle is up to. What's he doing?"

"I think…," Beckett answered with a pause as she formulated and confirmed her theory in her mind, "I think Espo was right, but wrong, too. Alexis and Martha are the key to what happens now, that's right. But Cole wanted a challenge, a race between him and Castle to see who could find the redheads first. I don't think Castle's trying to find his girls, though. I think the race is really to see if Cole can find the ladies before Castle finds him."

Beckett's theory provided a new way to approach Cole's recapture, but one that offered few concrete steps for how to proceed: how to guess how Castle would guess to track Cole? Finding Cole alone was a project for several members of the joint team, but trying to figure out how Castle would go about the same task was another avenue of pursuit.

Unfortunately, the process of following these leads showed that the divisive comments Cole made to Beckett's team were continuing to fester. While Beckett resolutely clung to her strategy of strict compartmentalization, neither Ryan nor Esposito could refrain from looks or comments of recrimination or rationalization.

Finally, Gates had to step in and assign tasks as if Beckett's team was filled with rookies rather than seasoned veterans. Beckett, obviously, was assigned to the 'Finding Castle' team, following Gates' early comment about Beckett having the most insight into her partner. To split up the currently dysfunctional partners, Espo joined Beckett while Ryan was assigned to join Agent Hansen on the 'Finding Cole' team. As usual, Agent Hansen showed no reaction to this assignment; Ryan, meanwhile, seemed anxious to provide Espo with a chance to cool down.

After confirming the assignments with Jeffers, Gates excused herself to call Tory about the laptop, check in with 1PP about the lingering presence of the Feds in her building, and tend to the rest of the precinct's operations that had the discourtesy to require attention in the midst of such a trying homicide case.

All thoughts of those tasks fled her mind, however, when she saw the desk sergeant outside her office tending to a visitor. A visitor Gates hadn't seen in a long while and hadn't called until just two days ago.

"Liz," Gates greeted her sister, nodding to the desk sergeant to release him back to his station. He was only too eager to flee the painful awkwardness that had quickly developed between the two sisters.

"Please, come into my office," Gates finally managed, removing the spectacle from the corridor if not clearing the tension.

Once Gates closed her office door, she took a deep breath and began walking to her desk. Midway, she paused, screwed up her courage, and embraced her sister. The hug was over before her sister could react, but the woman was clearly surprised by the overture.

"Ah, is it always this busy around here?" Liz Weston asked, waving to the general commotion on the fourth floor and providing the sisters with fodder to start talking to each other.

"The Feds have an asset with supernatural powers who slipped his leash, went on a thrill-killing spree in my precinct, was captured, then escaped federal custody again, and is currently focused on targeting the family of one of my people. I haven't been head of this precinct for very long, but I don't think this is a usual occurrence. At least, I hope not."

Liz Weston looked at her sister in open-mouthed shock. Victoria was never one for jokes, but neither was she one who would believe in 'supernatural government agents' or blithely describing multiple homicides.

"Ah, okay?" Liz managed after a few attempts to speak. "Just don't expect me to try the case once you catch him."

Gates assessed her sister with raised brows for a long moment before she chuckled. Her laughter seemed to open the floodgates as the laughs that followed provided some catharsis from the pressures of the last few days. Even better, her sister joined the laughter.

"You've lightened up a bit," Liz noted once they had calmed down. "I don't remember laughter being a big part of your professional demeanor."

"Nor yours," Gates replied without heat, getting a nod of acknowledgment in return. "To be honest, while I'm usually pretty serious, I've had to stifle myself even more since coming to this precinct. There's someone here who would be an even bigger distraction if I admitted to finding him amusing."

"Well, it looks good on you. You should laugh more often," Liz suggested with a small smile.

But the grin slipped from her face as Gates visibly grew somber. Clearly steeling herself, Gates slowly turned to the matter that prompted her to finally reach out to her sister.

"It's going to get increasingly difficult to laugh," Gates began slowly. "I got some bad news earlier this week."

"I thought so," Liz agreed. "Your message had me… worried."

Gates nodded while trying to pick her words carefully. "On the advice of someone I encountered on a recent case, I went in for a health check-up. There are still tests to be done and other diagnoses that need to be eliminated, but at this point my physician cannot rule out that recent changes in my cognitive abilities are the result of early-stage Alzheimer's disease."

Liz looked disturbed by this admission, but furrowed her brow. "I didn't think there was a definitive test for Alzheimer's. What makes you think you have it?"

"I've forgotten some case details lately. It wasn't a significant issue and I attributed it to the stress of my new position, but it is also consistent with AD onset," Gates began. "I also had a lipoprotein scan that revealed the APOE allele."

"But that doesn't prove anything!" Liz objected. "People with a positive APOE test don't necessarily develop AD," she replied, showing a surprising amount of knowledge about the disease. "And forgetting a few details when starting a new job is hardly a sign of cognitive decline! Hell, I can't keep all the details of my cases straight and I'm a damn fine lawyer. That's why we have people who work for us! Why are you so worried about this?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous," Gates admitted quietly. "And trust me, I really don't want to believe it. But I know it's true."

"You can't just know something like that," her sister dismissed.

"Haven't you ever gotten a feeling and just known it's right? You still do what you need to do to prove it's true, but you know as you're going along that you're just being thorough?" she asked, getting a very hesitant and halting nod in return. "That's what this is. I can feel it, Liz. I know the diagnostic methods aren't definitive and that my signs are not enough to confirm a diagnosis on their own. But I know."

Liz sat quietly as she digested this statement. It seemed very out of character for her staid sister, or at least what she remembered of her sister before their estrangement. And wasn't Alzheimer's hereditary? While her parentage suggested elevated risks for other issues, AD wasn't among them.

Though the sisters pursued different careers, both were bright and tenacious. So, it only took Liz several long moments before she made the connection. "This person who suggested you see your doctor – was it your 'supernatural' killer?"

When it became apparent that Gates was trying to figure out a way to answer in the affirmative, Liz just scoffed. "Come on! What happened to my sister? You are the most logical, pragmatic person I've ever known. Why on earth do you start believing in the bogeyman now?! This is ridiculous, sis."

Gates looked shock at her sister's characterization, but was even more surprised by the "sis" appellation. It'd been a very long time since she heard Liz to refer to her that way.

"His victims were suffering from Alzheimer's," Gates confessed. "That's how he found them and that's why he killed them. We had him in hand before he slipped away from the Feds again. And while we had him, he warned me to put my affairs in order before I lost the ability to do so."

"Scare tactics," Liz dismissed easily. "You think we don't see the same thing? You catch them and I try them. These people fling threats like the Jets throw interceptions," she said with a small smile while taking a dig at their father's favorite team of perennial losers. "Why does this one have you so rattled?"

"I can honestly say that I've never met a killer like this one," Gates replied in a low whisper. "Based on what he's done, and what else he knows, I don't think I've ever met a more daunting adversary."

"So, catch him quickly," Liz replied in a tone of encouragement, though her eyes made her dismay at her sister's outlook apparent. "Once he's in lock-up, things will look better."

"I don't think that how this story will end," Gates confessed. "He's becoming increasingly unstable, more resources are being called in, we've got a rogue consultant involved…," she explained as if talking to herself. Then, shocking her sister by raising her bowed head and looking her straight in the eye. "He won't let himself be recaptured. This will end soon, and it'll be messy and terrifying when it does."

AN: Look at that! It might not have arrived before Halloween, but it took less than six months for this update. And, I post this from the last softball event of the year, so I'll soon get my weekends back. Speaking of softball, I need to do one quick shout-out. Back in HOWE, I mentioned a museum in Oslo and was shocked that people from there replied. So, in case that might happen a little closer to home: if anyone works at or has friends at the VCU Emergency Center, please give them a big pat on the back from me. My daughter Yeliched her knee a couple weeks ago and we ended up at VCU. It was as pleasant, stress-free, and professional an ER as I've encountered or imagined. A really tough job and they handle it with aplomb.

Also, there's an underlying theme woven through this story that I'll explain upon conclusion. There's an uncatchable reference in this chapter that made me smile, so if I don't later explain it, call me on it.