Greetings! This isn't my first fanfic but it is my first Castle fanfic. I hope it will bring you as much joy reading it as I had writing it.
Takes place mid-season 3.
This isn't my native language so if something sounds strange; I may have inadvertently changed languages in my head.
That said, this wouldn't have been possible without the help of a very dear friend of mine, whose passion for this show and to help others is nothing short of awe-inspiring.
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A man as sensitive as he considered himself to be could feel it the moment he stepped out of the elevator. It was in the air he breathed, it caused tingles to run from his fingertips all the way to his brain, putting his cued senses on high alert.
For a minute he swore it was in the air, changing the light spectrum enough to enhance color, making red seem decidedly more vivid this morning- and urgent.
Rick Castle knew that there'd been nothing extraordinary on the agenda; if one were to exclude the usual getting-shot-at, rounding up murderous individuals, profiling blood-thirsty psychopaths-type of workday.
Matter of fact, he'd been so confident that the day would be relatively quiet that he hadn't thought twice when Alexis asked him to spend the morning together, considering it some much overdue father-daughter time. Not that school being out meant his genius offspring was bored all day; her ambitious amount of hobbies made sure of that
But, to be perfectly honest, the last few weeks had been a rollercoaster, wearing on all of them. Murder after murder, along with the usual drama that befell a certain Homicide Department at the 12th had left them all feeling on edge, worn out, aching for a reprieve.
Thankfully, as of now, there was only one case left to tackle.
So when the opportunity finally arose, Castle decided to grab it. He relished every minute spent with Alexis at their favorite little corner coffee shop. Peace, though only temporary, was a rare commodity to come by these days and he'd be sure to hold onto it tightly.
Back to the office though.
This wasn't the usual bullpen atmosphere.
Rather, wherever he glanced, there was frantic, unorganized tension.
He saw it in every face he crossed, heard it in every hushed and muttered word. There was a good chance the sole call coming from the 12th an hour ago had something to do with it.
While part of him cursed himself for not answering now, Castle had given his word to Alexis, keeping their morning time uninterrupted for once, allowing them to share their thoughts openly and leisurely enjoy their time together.
A promise was a promise
This though.
Castle drew in a deep breath as he crossed the bullpen, his eyes automatically scanning for the usual suspects.
Beckett?
No.
Esposito?
No.
Ryan?
Yeah. Ryan was here.
As a matter of fact, he and a stern-faced Captain Montgomery stood in front of Beckett's murder board, nervously gesturing from one side to the other.
Intrigued by the unusual teamwork, Castle moseyed past the assortment of desks, noticing the absence of Beckett's coat, meaning she was out.
Perhaps whatever she'd found on her journey had something to do with the undeniable tension that threatened to break the seams on this bullpen, thickening the air enough it almost choked him.
No, he wasn't being melodramatic- not this time at least.
Just observant…and undeniably worried.
Castle opened his mouth to greet the two men at the murder board when Ryan noticed him out of the corner of his eye, the detective's expression something in between out-and-out panic and gut-wrenching guilt. His pale features had lost what little color there was to begin with.
Castle felt a stab in the pit of his stomach, and he swallowed hard when Montgomery turned around to face him as well, the Captain's lips pursed to a thin line.
He'd seen this expression before. It was the type that preceded bad news.
Really bad news.
"Wh…what's going on, guys?", Castle stammered, swallowing a comment about all presumed hell breaking lose while he was gone for a few precious hours.
No, that expression warranted serious thought only, the kind that would turn his enjoyable morning into a really, really bad day in an instant.
"I tried to get a hold of you as soon as possible.", Ryan cut in, sounding almost apologetic, nervously playing with the cap of the black marker.
"Beckett and Esposito have gone missing.", Montgomery then explained, keeping his voice even as though he was holding a press conference, "So far, there are no leads, no ransom demands. Their car was found north of town, along with their cells."
Wait…what? As the words slowly reached his brain, Castle gasped quietly, for once at a complete loss of what to say.
Missing? Missing indicated a kidnapping, some…some sort of unplanned event. What could have been so unplanned this morning that it led to a kidnapping? How…how could they get kidnapped? That made no sense at all.
"You…didn't get kidnapped?"
He hadn't meant to sound accusatory when he looked over at Ryan. It was the only words that made it past his inner defenses before he had a chance to think twice.
Thankfully, the detective seemed to understand, his guilt-ridden stare lowered to the ground for a brief moment as he nodded.
"We'd split up. We were…we were at Holly Roger's apartment, the sublet she shared with Shelley Richardson. Suddenly, Beckett said she wanted to go check something out and took Esposito with her. I stayed to talk to the techs and make a couple of phone calls. When I tried to call her forty-five minutes later, it went straight to voicemail, same with Esposito."
Ryan's voice nearly broke when he said that, his cheery blue eyes empty now, devoid of any sort of warmth, as a plethora of frightening thoughts began to circle around in his mind.
"There were no signs of struggle in the car. They're bringing it in right now for CSU to comb through. Hopefully we can find some prints or anything else that might explain this.", Montgomery added, as if reading his mind, then let his gaze drift back to the vastly-filled murder board.
While Castle wanted to do the same, his frantically beating heart sent waves upon waves of adrenaline through his body, making the lines on the board blur the more he tried to focus on them.
"That makes no sense. Who could have…?", he stuttered, his mind refusing to comprehend how a simple investigation could have derailed to such an extent.
A college student earning money on the side via prostitution had been found murdered, strangled, discarded in a dumpster like a piece of trash. The crime, though vile, was nothing new for them. In the grand scheme of things, nothing was standing out from this case compared to any of the others they'd handled. Except maybe…the client roster. That had been an interesting one.
Shelley Richardson had kept meticulous records of her customers, their individual needs, and preferences, down to their favorite days and times for a meeting. What she hadn't done was use their real names in these portfolios, helping disguise her impressive list of customers behind fake names, some of them funny, some downright creepy.
Her documents had been difficult to read if one were to imagine the acts described in there being done by a sweet-looking, blonde, twenty-three-year-old girl going to college to become a school teacher.
Thus far, the search for Shelley's illusive killer, or any of her customers, had proven incredibly difficult thanks to several extra steps she had taken to cover her tracks. The calls to her customers had gone out via a well-used pay phone down the street, that much they'd gathered from talking to her roommate Holly.
Any dates would take place far away from the apartment, where Shelley's customers had her picked up and dropped off in a cab, all meeting places kept public; busy spots from which a third party would escort Shelley to her eventual destination.
Everything about it had reeked of high-end prostitution, their list of players more than likely big and rich enough to help support Richardson's sometimes extravagant lifestyle and skyrocketing college tuition.
"They had to have come across something important…", Ryan muttered, more or less talking to himself now, chewing on his bottom lip as he let his eyes drift across the board over and over again.
"What were you guys doing back at the apartment this morning?", Castle asked intrigued, trying to reel in his frantic thoughts, although it was getting harder and harder to do.
"Beckett wanted to talk to Holly again, see if there was anything she'd forgotten about, any minor detail that would help us identify Shelley's clients. Half an hour in, Beckett got that…that glazed-over look and…and grabbed Esposito and left, telling me to bring in CSU and see if we can find the clasp from Richardson's stocking strap."
By now, Castle was mirroring the lip biting, his mind putting the puzzle pieces together, already trying to think of who in which position of power within his large group of acquaintances would be able to help them gather all resources possible to find Beckett and Esposito.
Beckett.
The one morning he chose to stay away.
And Beckett gets kidnapped by God knows who.
Damnit.
Unable to disguise the shudder running down his spine, Castle nodded quietly, at a loss of ideas for the time being, his mind too busy trying to digest the shock.
Montgomery must have noticed it and he put a hand on Castle's arm, keeping it there a second longer than usual, then cocked his chin toward his office.
"I'm gonna make a couple of phone calls, see what can be done. You guys let me know the moment you hear back from CSU."