BURNING FLAMES OR PARADISE
CHAPTER SIX
BAD BLOOD
You know it used to be mad love
So take a look what you've done
OCTOBER 2007
She buried herself in work in the weeks following the break-up, which wasn't difficult with the heat of summer leading to an increase in homicides. And when she wasn't at the precinct, she was at home, investigating the case that she'd put up in her office.
Her mom's case.
She hadn't touched it in almost three and a half years, not since the day after her dad went to rehab and she began seeing a therapist. But ending things with Rick broke something in her. She thought she could have been happy with him, but ultimately, she didn't want to get hurt, didn't want her heart broken again.
She jolted awake at the sound of her phone ringing one morning in early October, and she reached out a hand, rifled through scattered paper and photographs only to find it next to her head.
"Beckett," she mumbled, not even looking at the caller ID.
"Body found at 54 Prince Street, Detective Beckett. You're up."
"I'll be there." She grunted and sat up, took in the state of her desk. She'd fallen asleep working her mom's case, again, and couldn't remember what she'd last looked at. She felt like she was close to a lead, needed just one or two pieces to put it together. More and more, though, it felt like she was looking for a needle in a haystack, without even knowing where the haystack was.
A short shower and coffee stop later and she was at the crime scene, a young woman found in a dumpster behind a restaurant, her clothes ripped and a gunshot wound at her temple.
"Yo, Beckett, isn't that your boy?" Esposito asked as they left the alley, after examining the body.
Kate followed where he was pointing, and she almost rolled her eyes at the life-size cutout of Rick Castle in the window of a neighboring bookstore. "He's not 'my boy,'" she insisted, walking past her partner towards the car.
Espo slid into the passenger seat as she turned the ignition. "Maybe not, but he was, right?"
She glanced over at him. "How did you know that?"
"You just told me," he teased with a grin. When she just glared, he put his hands in the air, palms facing her. "Caught you staring at his picture in the paper a few times. You guys went out for what, three months? Four?"
"Almost four," she relented after a long silence, pulling out into traffic. "Look, it doesn't matter, okay? We broke up in July."
"Why?"
"None of your business."
"Alright, I get it." Espo flipped open his notebook as Kate navigated through the streets back to the precinct. "Uniforms are canvassing around the area, to see if anyone saw anything. But if Lanie's right-"
"Which she is," Kate interrupted.
"Of course she's right. Our vic was killed between 3 and 4 a.m. I doubt there will be any witnesses."
Kate pulled into the precinct parking garage, shut off the engine with a sigh. "Did you see any cameras?"
"Not in the alley, no." Espo pulled out his cell phone when it beeped. "Looks like a uni found the victim's wallet. Crystal Harris, 23 years old."
"Great."
Having a victim's identification certainly made their job easier, and as Kate and Esposito spent the day tracking down next of kin, and gathering more information about her. She'd only been a homicide detective for a few years, but she'd learned early on that the more she knew about a victim, the more likely she was to find the killer.
Hours later, long after the other detectives on day shift went home, even after Espo bid her goodnight, she was at her computer, hunched over her keyboard as she prepared a request for the victim's phone records. She stretched after sending it to her captain for approval, finally allowing herself to stand and take a brief break.
She hadn't planned on reading the paper, of course, only intending to scan the front page while drinking her coffee. But a peek of a headline caught her eye, and she moved the front page aside to reveal the Entertainment section.
Author steps out with new girlfriend
She couldn't resist reading the article. According to the journalist, Rick had been seen several times during the previous month with his publisher, mostly on what looked like romantic dinners at high-end restaurants.
Her eyes landed on the picture of them, leaning across a table towards each other, foreheads almost touching. Rick was grinning, his hand on the woman's cheek, and she could almost hear him laughing. He looked happy.
It made her nauseous.
She dumped her untouched coffee into the sink, her mug following with a loud clatter, shut down her computer and left.
"Richard, are you almost ready?"
The voice of his girlfriend startled him, and Rick examined his reflection, ran his fingers through his hair to tousle it in the way his fans seemed to love. He knew that it wasn't one of Gina's preferred looks, but he was going to a fan event, and he figured that appealing to them would sell more books.
"Rick?"
After a moment of indecision, he loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt, another look the fans loved but Gina didn't. "Yeah, I'm coming," he called out, pleased with his appearance. He didn't do it on purpose, he told himself, pick an outfit that she wouldn't love. But his fans did love it, and when Gina rolled her eyes as soon as she saw him, he just shrugged. "It sells more books," he explained.
Not that it mattered to her.
"I know, but do you always have to do it?" Gina asked, picking up her purse and jacket.
"Most publishers would encourage their clients to cater to their fans," Rick argued, throwing his own jacket over his arm. "More women come, which means more books get sold. And you make more money."
"Yeah, well, this publisher doesn't prefer her boyfriend looking like an unmade bed."
Rick just followed her out the door, locking it behind him, ignoring her comment. There was no point in arguing any more; it would only upset them both.
The ride to the party was made in relative silence, much to Rick's delight. As much as he enjoyed spending time with his girlfriend-slash-publisher, their conversations lately had, more often than not, turned to his writing.
Or, more accurately, his lack thereof.
He wasn't entirely sure why, but Derrick Storm's adventures had become stale and boring. He needed something new, but with a contract for two additional books, he knew that a change wouldn't be welcome any time soon. Which was unfortunate, because an idea for a new character had been nagging at him for months.
His thoughts were interrupted by their arrival, and he made his way to the rooftop bar, where they'd had his last half dozen release parties. He and Gina circled the room, greeting fans and other attendees alike. Gina went her own way after the first pass, much to Rick's relief; her comments about his alleged writer's block were jokes to most, but he saw them for the digs they really were.
A quick stop at the bar gained him a whiskey, neat, that he threw back, relished the burn down his throat, as he observed the room. There was some kind of commotion by the door, but he ignored it, instead approached a group of ladies in low-cut cocktail dresses, Sharpie in hand.
"Mr. Castle?"
He turned at the deep voice, Sharpie poised, but when he saw the man holding a gold shield he froze. "How can I help you?"
"I'm Detective Javier Esposito, NYPD Homicide."
Detective Esposito's words faded into the background when he spotted a familiar figure, her arms crossed, staring at him from the entrance.
"-easy way or the hard way," the detective continued, reaching for Rick's arm.
Rick blinked, focused his attention on the man in front of him. "I'm sorry, what?"
Esposito smirked. "I said, we have a few questions to ask you about a homicide that took place earlier this evening."
"I've been with my girlfriend all day, and here since about seven."
"We know, Mr. Castle. Not those kinds of questions."
"I see." Rick winced at the sight of Gina storming up to them, obviously livid at the interruption.
"What the hell is going on?" she spat at the detective before turning her glare to Rick. "What are the police doing here?"
Rick could barely contain his excitement. Sure, he was enjoying the party. But how many times would he have the opportunity to be questioned by police, when he hadn't even committed a crime? "I didn't do anything, they just need my help with something." He turned his attention back to an amused-looking Detective Esposito. "Would you like me to come down to the station?"
"Please."
Kate rolled her eyes when she saw the name on her phone.
Rick.
He'd called her at least a dozen times in the two days since his book party, when they'd seen each other for the first time in weeks, although they hadn't spoken. She wasn't too proud to admit that she'd avoided him while he'd consulted on her and Esposito's case; although it had been three months since he'd walked out her door, she missed him, thought of him often. She lost track of the number of times she flipped open her phone, intending to call him, only to shut it yet again.
When the news of his romantic relationship with his publisher had broken, she'd assumed it was a sign that he'd moved on. And she had too.
At least, she thought she had.
But as she saw her phone light up with yet another voicemail notification, she felt a tug on her heart, the heavy weight of regret in the pit of her stomach.
With a heavy sigh and long look at the file strewn across her coffee table, she retreated to her bedroom, beer in hand, and punched the call button.
"Hello?"
She froze when he answered on the first ring. She wasn't sure why it surprised her; she'd returned his call after mere minutes. Of course he'd answer right away.
There was a rustling noise, some faint mumbling, then a click she recognized as his office door. "Kate? You there?"
"Hi, Rick," she finally answered, a flush of embarrassment creeping across her cheeks despite their physical distance. He couldn't see her, so there was no reason for her reaction. "How are you?"
"How-" He scoffed. "Come on, Kate. You just spent two days avoiding me. Now you try small talk?"
"I wasn't avoiding you." It was a bold-faced lie, and by Rick's low hum she could tell that he knew, even over the phone. "You and Espo had a handle on it."
"Whatever you say, Detective."
She winced at the sharp pronunciation of her title, the way he emphasized it. His voice dripped with sarcasm and anger, even some bitterness. And she didn't blame him.
He left because she wouldn't open up to him. And she closed herself off even more when he'd re-entered her life.
"Never mind. I'm sorry I called," Rick snapped.
"Wait!" Kate hesitated, expecting the dead air of an ended call, but it didn't come. She could still hear him breathing. "I'm sorry." She sighed and dropped to her bed. "Thank you for your help on the case."
There was a long pause before he replied. "You're welcome. You know, it was cool seeing you work. You're a great detective, Kate."
It was her turn to scoff. "I'm okay."
"Youngest female detective in NYPD history? I'd say you're better than okay."
She couldn't help but smile at his words. "Looking me up, Castle?" she teased, her lip drifting between her teeth, a finger twirling her hair.
He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that had other memories flood her mind. "I looked you up as soon as I found out your last name. Had to learn about you somehow."
His words felt like a punch to her gut, like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head. He was right.
"Look, Rick-"
He interrupted before she could even form her next thought. "It's in the past. Oh, hang on."
There was more muffled talking, then when he spoke to her again, there was an edge to his voice that she couldn't quite place.
"Sorry about that. I have to go; Gina will kill me if I ignore her for much longer."
Kate closed her eyes. Gina, of course. The girlfriend-slash-publisher. Rick hadn't called for any reason beyond professional. Obviously their lives were back to moving in different directions. His included a relationship, a family, a soon-to-be second wife if the tabloids were right. And hers consisted of getting justice for strangers while failing to get the same for her own mother.
"Well, thanks for calling, Rick. Take care of yourself."
And with her parting words, she ended the call, brought the latest Rick Castle chapter of her life to a close.
