Considering the gravity of the crime, the DA had gone out of his way to issue the search warrant for Steward's bedroom, while cautioning them to treat the matter with the utmost delicacy considering who they were dealing with.

Unfortunately, that's where their luck ended.

Already well prepared for another attempt to find proof of Shelley Richardson's murder and their subsequent attack; Steward had lawyered up some more, bringing in not one, not two, but three of the most unscrupulous attorneys New York City had to offer.

And as expected, all three of them were balking at the warrant, running the phones of the DA's office hot while doing everything in their power to stop their efforts. Unfortunately, so far, they seemed to be winning.

As the sun once again rose above the skyscrapers of the city; three weary figures sat around a desk in the middle of the bullpen, staring up at the murder board, trying to come up with another way to tie Steward to the killing while the warrant was being held up in a legal battle between the DA and the Senator-to-be's group of attorneys.

So far, no brilliant idea had escaped either one of them.

Ryan bit his lip again, certain he was about to give himself a blister here shortly, his thoughts racing to his missing partner, the fear of god-knows what was being done to him. And no matter how often Castle reassured him that Esposito could take a beating like no one else in this place, it did little to assuage his crippling worry.

They were partners, practicially attached at the hip, knowing each others thoughts and deepest fears.

Little did he realize that he'd gotten so used to Javi's presence that his absence put him into such a heightened state of panic.

Beckett talking about the kidnapping situation and a certain detective playing hero did not help things one bit.

Off to the right, Montgomery was on the phone again, the Captain looking more exhausted by the hour, having worked throughout the whole night to help get his detectives back.

Even from his corner of the bullpen, Ryan could tell Montgomery was running on fumes by now.

Heck, they all were.

Ryan caught himself absent-mindedly staring down at his wristwatch when he heard a cell phone ring, followed by Castle fumbling for it amongst the stack of files, notes and pictures on Beckett's desk.

"It's Martha…", the writer exclaimed breathlessly and answered the call with a nervous, "Anything new?"

From what he learned about her ties to Jessop Watkins, there was a good chance that a call meant something was going on.

With his heart thumping in his chest, he listened to Castle's occasional mhm's, grunts and okay's with a level of impatience that was starting to hurt, Beckett doing the same from across the desk.

Finally, the writer hung up the phone and let out a deep breath, his brown eyes circling the desk before looking back up at the team, undoubtedly trying to find the right words.

"Martha said that Jessop just called. He was able to get a hold of Salvador. They're willing to deal."

The relief dropped off Ryan's shoulders like a lead weight and he brought his palm to his mouth for a moment, breathing through the stress and anxiety that was threatening to overwhelm his senses.

Not a second later, he watched Castle get up in a hurry and reach for his jacket, already halfway out the door by the time Beckett called him back.

"Castle, where are you going?"

"To the bank.", he responded flippantly.

"The bank? What exactly are they asking?"

"A fair price.", Castle answered as the elevator doors closed on him.