The Other Path
Chapter 53
Kate motions Rick into the lounge and closes the door behind them. With a tiny shiver, she swallows. "The test was positive."
Rick gathers her into his arms. "That's amazing! Wonderful! We're going to have a baby!"
"Yeah," Kate responds stiffly.
With his hands on her shoulders, Rick steps back, searching Kate's face. "You don't want it?"
"I just didn't want a baby so soon. This was supposed to be our time, our honeymoon stage. And work's been going great with me back at the precinct full time. I don't know what to do now."
Rick pulls her close again. "We'll work through this together like we always do with everything. But the first step is we get you the best OB in the city and make sure everything's OK with you and the baby. Right, Kate?"
"Yeah, sure. But if I don't use someone in my health plan, it won't be covered."
"For you and our baby, who gives a damn? I can't think of a more vital way to spend money. I'm going to call Mother. She knows that actress who faced all those problems before her baby was born. Mother can find out who she used."
"Babe, don't tell Martha yet. Don't tell anybody. I need some time to process this."
"All right," Rick agrees. "I guess I understand. I'll just do my research thing."
"Can you do it from home? I don't want the boys looking over your shoulder."
"Fine. I have my subscription resources there anyway. But Kate, this isn't the time to assert that stubborn Beckett independence. We're a team, right? Yin and Yang. Batman and Robin. Holmes and Watson."
The corner of Kate's mouth tweaks upward. "None of them could get pregnant."
"Xena and Gabrielle. No, that probably wouldn't work either. So, Caskett will blaze a new trail. Call me later?"
"Yeah. Sure."
As Kate watches the elevator doors close on Rick, the landline on her desk sounds off. Almost unconsciously, she reaches for the receiver. "Beckett. Broome and Greene. Got it! Guys," she calls to Ryan and Esposito, "we've got one."
The ligature lines are clear enough on the neck of the woman's body fished out of a dumpster that Kate doesn't need Lanie to tell her the victim was strangled. The clothes on the body are expensive, even for the SoHo neighborhood. And the one pump still on her foot cost more than Kate's salary for a month. But she wasn't worth much to someone. Bits of refuse still cling to her skin and hair. Kate backs away as the scent of spoilage reaches her nose. "What was the TOD?"
"She hasn't been dead long. Right now, I'd say between five and seven this morning. I may be able to narrow it down more when I get her back to the lab. And whoever did this was angry, Kate," Lanie adds. "A bruise was beginning to form on her cheek as if she'd been slapped perimortem. And I can see signs that she'd been grabbed hard by both arms. She may have been shaken, too. But I'll have to check that on my table."
"Do we have an ID?" Kate asks.
"Jane Doe."
Kate turns to Ryan and Esposito. "Set up a canvass. Someone around here must know who she is. And if she was fighting with her killer, maybe someone heard something."
Ryan nods. "Will do, Boss."
Lanie looks up from Jane Doe. "Something wrong Kate? You seem a little off this morning. You and Castle have a fight?"
"No, nothing like that," Kate insists. "We're fine. He had something he wanted to look into."
The M.E.'s head bobs skeptically. "Uh-huh. If you want to talk, you know where to find me."
"I'm going to look around. The killer may have left a clue in the area. I'll check with you later for an update."
"Ri-i-ght."
Rick surveys the map of ob-gyn offices displayed on his screen. The listings offer a filter by rating, with the highest at 4.5 stars and up. "Kate's not getting anything less than five stars," he mutters, scrolling through the entries and making notes. "That's five with five in Manhattan." He'd poured out the coffee that was bothering Kate and never made more. A search in-depth of his five prospects could take some time. Where Kate and the baby are concerned, Rick's not about to take any chances. He gets up to make a fresh pot. He might as well drink it while he can. He has a feeling he won't be brewing much more of the heady brew for a while, possibly months."
Kate slowly walks the crime scene. She has no idea what she expects to find. She's searching for anything out of place, as Rick would have her alter-ego say, "the odd sock." The crime scene is only a block from the loft. Kate should know the area well, but she doesn't. In fact, she knows fewer than half the people with lofts in the same building where she and Rick live. He knows them all, of course. Part of that is his natural friendliness, but she suspects more of it is his childlike curiosity. His endless questioning can be both charming and infuriating. It also solves cases.
Kate's tempted to call Rick now, but she's not ready for the conversation he'd insist on having. So she examines the area on her own. A tiny glint from the ground grabs her attention. A button. It didn't come from the victim. Her sleek sheath had no fasteners except for a zipper. It could have been part of the trash in the dumpster, or the murderer's struggle to dispose of his kill could have dislodged it from his clothing. Kate snaps a picture before reaching down with a gloved hand to slip her find into an evidence bag. If she's lucky, it might have DNA or a partial print. CSU can check that out.
The detective continues circling the dumping ground but finds nothing else she'd consider a clue. CSU will look more in-depth. If she returns to the precinct, she can start tracing the victim's shoe. Even in Soho, she doubts many women wore a pair like it.
Rick settles on his top choice with a fall-back in case Kate objects. He wonders if it's too soon to call her. She said she needed time to process. In his experience, that's synonymous with retreating behind her personal wall. The question is, should he wait for her to emerge or start knocking on it. Damn! A baby, Kate's and his baby, is too important to sit around twiddling his thumbs. If he presents Kate with his findings, perhaps a brick or two will fall. He can walk to the Twelfth. Getting some air should chill him out enough to keep him from shoving his feet too far down his throat. At least he hopes so.
A jazzy ringtone sounds from the pocket of Kate's jacket. "Hey, Lanie."
"Kate, I ran some preliminary bloodwork on our Jane Doe."
"Drugs?"
"No, she was clean. But something else popped up. She was pregnant, but she hadn't been long. I'll know more later, but from the hormone levels, I'd say three or four weeks. She might not have known or just found out."
Kate's stomach leaps into her throat. "Could that have been why she was killed?"
"Girlfriend, finding that out is your department. But I thought you'd want to know right away."
"Yeah, Lanie, thanks."
