Chapter VII

Philadelphia, PA

They gave her access to the security cameras at both events in Philadelphia, so she spent most of the day watching them.

After the afternoon workshop was over and the attendees took some photos, Beckett made sure to join Castle. To link hands with him and plant a chaste kiss on his cheek. She wanted the photos to go on social media. If the stalker wasn't here then Beckett at least wanted her to see these photos online.

Judging from what she'd observed on the cameras, no one attending the workshop had set off any alarms. Most of them were aspiring writers. She'd gone over their profiles, watched their behaviour in the room with Castle and…nothing.

She'd done the same in the bookshop, later in the day. Sat in a dingy security office and drank too many coffees while trying to scope out anyone suspicious. It was hard to single-handedly oversee everyone. If this were New York, she'd have placed Ryan and Espo inside the bookstore. No, she'd have been in the bookstore herself and would have had Ryan watching the cameras. But her two useless partners from Cyber Crimes were tied up on another case so she was on her own.

When the signing was over, Beckett once more went down to the bookstore to meet up with Castle. She draped an arm over his shoulder after he signed the last book, to make it clear that she was with him.

"Anything so far?" he asked softly, sliding his fingers through hers. Sending an unexpected spark up her arm.

"No."

"That's okay. It's good."

It wasn't good, she thought. It was another pointless day without a lead in sight. She was starting to believe that Gates was right. Maybe she really wasn't a good cop anymore. She'd lost her mojo after getting shot.

"I'm starving," Castle told her. "Let's go somewhere nice for dinner. Maybe somewhere where the paparazzi will spot us."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "In Philly?"

"You'd be surprised, Detective, the restaurant scene here is happening. I'll worry about getting us a table, you wear something sexy."

Her brows went up another notch. Sexy? Beckett hadn't thought that far ahead. Hadn't come prepared for an evening out on the town. Even her hair was a mess, after she'd scrunched it up into a functional bun all day.

"I didn't exactly…"

Castle shrugged. "No problem. Buy something."

She swallowed. "Fine."

He pulled out a credit card from a pocket wallet. "Here."

Beckett gave him a glare that suggested he put that card back where it came from before she shoved it there herself. "I don't need you buying me clothes, Castle."

"I just thought in case you can't you can't expense it…"

Then she'd swallow the cost, she thought angrily. Who did he think he was? Aside from her pretend boyfriend.

"I'm sorry." He looked hurt again. The same way he did when she'd reprimanded him for snooping into her mother's death. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"It's fine," she said tersely. Reminding herself that they were in public. That they were supposed to pretend to be crazy about each other. She wasn't even good at undercover work anymore.

"Don't get anything if you don't want to," he told her. "You're perfect the way you are." He brushed a strand of wayward hair out of her face. "With that bun unravelling before my eyes and you looking at me as though you want to throttle me. Bet you could do it with ease too."

She fought back a smile. It was kind of infuriating; how easily he diffused her irritation. "Don't tempt me."

"We'll go somewhere casual."

"No…" He was right. Again. It was a good idea. Did he have to be right all the time?

If the paparazzi caught them together out on the town, it would only help their cause. Seeing as they had no other leads, they should double down on this. Provoke the stalker.

"Get us a table. The fancier and more visible the better. Just give me an hour."

In fairness, it had taken her nearly two hours to get ready. But he'd have waited twice as long.

Gladly.

He'd gotten them a window table at one of the hottest spots in town. Something with a French name and a global menu. The waiter brought them an amuse-bouche that was covered in fish eggs, right after they ordered a bottle of wine and Malpeque oysters to start.

Castle popped it into his mouth without taking his eyes off her. Mesmerized by the way her sliver dress was hugging her slender body. The way the subtle make-up she wore only served to enhance her striking lips and eyes.

Did she even realize how stunning she was?

Kate didn't eat hers. She wouldn't eat anything that wasn't meant to be shared. Not after what happened to Sherine.

"You okay, Castle?"

"Yes. Why?"

"You're staring."

"Can't help it. You clean up nice."

"Thanks. You too."

He reached for her hand across the table, because he could. Because they were supposed to be a couple and he'd be damned if he didn't make the most of it. He couldn't imagine having the willpower to keep his hands off her if they really were dating. He'd only felt her skin against his a few times and already he was addicted.

What he didn't expect was for her to take his hand in hers and kiss it. Didn't expect her eyes to meet his and light up in amusement.

Hot. It was getting hot in here.

His free hand unconsciously loosened his expensive Italian tie.

He swallowed. "Can I ask you something, Detective?"

"It's Kate. And since when do you ask for permission?"

"Touché."

"Also true."

"Why'd you become a cop?"

Her eyes suddenly darkened and he almost wished he hadn't asked. Their colour always changed with her mood and the hints of gold and green morphed into a more solid brown.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because…" Because he'd already created a character based on her. Because he wanted Nikki to have as much of Beckett in her as possible. Because he knew if she did, his readers would fall in love with her.

How the hell could he explain all that without mortifying her? "Because…I'm curious. Because you asked me not to snoop into your mother's death, so I won't. I'll ask you instead."

Her gaze lingered on his, not the least bit perturbed by the uncomfortably long silence. If he was in an interrogation room with her, he'd probably have confessed to a murder by now.

And then she gave him the subtlest nod. One he might have missed if he wasn't the keen observer that he was.

Everything about the way she looked at him gave him hope. That maybe she now trusted him enough to let him see a glimpse of her past.

"I did become a cop because of my mother's murder," she said softly. "Clichéd and predictable, isn't it? At least it would be in fiction."

"No." Nothing about you is predictable.

"It was dismissed as random gang violence and I was convinced that it wasn't. So I decided to become a homicide cop, in order to investigate her case myself."

"And?"

A waiter appeared with the bottle of Bordeaux he'd ordered and Castle wanted to swat him off. Not now.

The bow-tied man took a painfully long time to uncork it and pour a minute amount into Castle's bulbous glass. In response Castle gave it the requisite swirl and dipped his nose into the glass like the connoisseur that he wasn't. "Perfect."

He didn't care about the vintage. Only that the wine came from a sealed bottle.

And that the interruption wouldn't put a stop to what Beckett was willing to tell him.

He poured her half a glass and asked the question again. "And?"

She took a small sip and then ran in index finger along the rim of the glass. "I was right. It wasn't a random act of gang violence."

The revelation gave him chills. "So…"

"Four years ago, I got an unexpected lead from a reporter doing a story on gang-related stabbings. He brought in a forensic specialist who re-examined my mother's knife wounds and was able to link it to other killings. And then later, when I was working on another case, I found an unexpected connection between her killing and the brother of a dead Irish mobster. I actually caught the guy who killed her. He tried to escape during his arrest by holding a rookie cop hostage. I had no choice but to shoot him. He died."

Castle hung on to her every word. Surprised and grateful that she trusted him enough to tell him all this. "You caught him? The man who killed your mother?"

He'd expected something resembling pride from her. Instead he saw frustration. Shame.

"I caught the guy who was ordered to kill her. Not the one who paid him for it."

"Someone sent a hired killer after your mom?"

"Yes."

She told him about the Coonan case over a shared paella. Normally, the succulent prawns and garlic mussels draped over the Spanish saffron rice would have caught at least some of his attention, but now he could have been eating cardboard and he wouldn't have noticed the difference. He was too busy digesting every morsel of information that she shared with him.

"And then?"

"That's it." Beckett had another sip of wine. She'd barely put a dent in the contents of the glass.

There was more to it. Castle didn't need to see her don't-go-there look to know that. "Your shooting…did it have anything to do with her killing?"

She narrowed her brows. "My shooting is still an active case. I can't discuss it with a civilian."

So that's a yes. It sent a chill up his spine. It's connected to your mother's case and he's still out there. How can you stand it?

"Could he…come back?"

The fork slipped out of her fingers, hitting the paella pan with a clang and her face paled. "Can we not talk about this?"

"I'm sorry." What the hell was he doing? They were supposed to be pretending to have a romantic dinner. Gaze lovingly into each other's eyes. "I'm sorry," he repeated, wished he could take it back. Wanting to make it right.

"Forget it."

"Screw this…" he said, throwing his cloth napkin onto the table. He couldn't play this charade anymore tonight. Maybe he didn't inherit his mother's thespian genes after all. "Let's get out of here."

He was already on his feet and she jumped to hers as well.

"What do you think you're doing?" Beckett glared at him, a flat palm resting against his chest and subtly pushing him back. "I didn't spend an hour getting ready tonight so you could bolt out of here after twenty minutes," she muttered the words under her breath and then inched right up to his face, sending all his senses into overdrive. And that was before she cocked her head, rocked on those impossibly high heels she wore, and leaned in for a kiss.

The silky strands of her long hair covered both their faces and turned it into a private cocoon for two. One that he'd gladly stay in all night.

The corners of her lips curled into a smile when she kissed him. "You don't get to dig through my past and then ditch this operation. No way, Castle."

His hand gripped the back of her neck and pulled her closer. Kissed her more deeply than he needed to for their ruse. He might have regretted it if it weren't for that barely audible, and probably involuntary, groan of pleasure that escaped her throat.

To his surprise, she didn't pull away. Instead, one of her arms snaked around his back and she held on to him while her lips kept exploring his, and, Jesus, he really wished she wouldn't stop. Because he could kiss her all night…

But then she did. Pull away, with a little victory smile that made him grin back at her.

Damn.

"Let's eat, Castle."

She had made him hungry, that much was true. Even though none of what he now hungered for was on the menu.

"Richard Castle? Oh my God…"

A woman's voice boomed from behind them made Beckett turn around with lightning speed.

The woman was flustered, obviously nervous. "I've never done this before, but I'm such a huge fan. Do you think…I could get a photo with you?"

It wasn't the first time he's had a fan encounter but Beckett wasn't used to it. She'd already stepped in front of him, ready to place a barrier between him and the woman.

He gave Beckett a gentle nudge. "It's all right," he whispered into her ear.

But Beckett didn't budge.

"I run this online forum, where we discuss books, I have a special section for yours…"

"That's amazing," Castle mustered his best book-signing smile. "What's it called? I'll have to check it out."

Her already red cheeks darkened. "The Storm Front."

"Love it!" While he was busy charming the woman, he noticed that Beckett was checking her out. Taking in everything with those intelligent eyes that were always observing everything. It was contagious, because he'd begun seeing his fans differently too. Looking out for things he'd never thought to look out for. But so far there was nothing unusual about this woman. "What's your name?" he asked her.

"Rebecca. But everyone calls me Becca."

"I'd love to take a photo, Becca." Castle suggested she give her phone to Beckett. "Darling, will you take a photo of us?"

Beckett cocked her eyebrow. "Of course, kitten."

Becca giggled. "Thank you. You have no idea how much this-"

Castle already had his arm around her shoulders and smiled for the photo and then he spotted a waiter. "Excuse me, do you think you could take one of the three of us?"

The waiter obliged and suddenly Becca was sandwiched between him and Beckett. They took a couple more photos and then his happy fan off took, after thanking him profusely.

"Well?" Castle beamed. Pleased by what had transpired. They couldn't have asked for a better outcome. "That was perfect."

"I suppose. Too perfect maybe." Beckett stared after Becca, until she'd disappeared from view.

"If she posts any photos on her forum, I could tweet them."

"No," Beckett shook her head. "Too obvious. Any stalker this obsessed with you will be on all the fan forums. As long as Becca puts those photos out there, I think we're good. And if it sparks nothing, then we'll re-evaluate." She'd already pulled out her phone and started texting the guys from Cyber Crimes. "Meanwhile, I'll have the Cyber Crimes guys run a trace on this Becca and her Derrick Storm book forum. Make sure nothing's off about her, because this, tonight…this was a little too convenient."

"Are you always this suspicious? Not everyone's a psycho stalker. I've met thousands of fans and most of them acted exactly like her."

"They all fawn over you?"

"They're fans. Have you never been a fan of anything or anyone? Teenage Kate had no posters on her wall?"

She blushed a little. That's a yes, then. And that too, made him curious. Made him put the thought aside for a future conversation. There was so much he wanted to know about her. So many layers he wanted to unravel.

"Well, then let's hope she posts some pics of both of us on all her social media channels and let's hope it triggers this psycho."