Chapter XVIII

Hamptons, Long Island

Something's wrong.

It's just a feeling at first, but I have a sixth sense about this stuff. You don't survive my kind of life unless you do, and I'm feeling it now.

It's not the first time Pepe's called me in like he did last night, but there was something different in his voice. I could hear it through the phone.

I'm still rattled by what happened in Manhattan. Almost running over that bitch. Doing it, but not really doing it, it keeps me up at night. I haven't slept well since it happened and that phone call only made it worse.

So I got up before the sun did and went outside.

I'm not even sure what I was looking for. All I wanted was to snoop around. To reassure myself or something like that.

Snooping is the one thing I'm really good at.

I rode my old bike to Pepe's shop. If you can call that shitbox a shop. It's a crappy office next to a giant shed full of gardening supplies, where Pepe and his wife run their landscaping business.

In a way, they're like me. They try to stay under the radar and hope that the government doesn't shut them down for hiring mostly illegals.

Anyway…I ride my bike wearing my dirty gardening overalls and a baseball cap. It's dirty from all the outdoor work I do. I call it my MEWOU, Mexican Worker's Uniform. It's better than an invisibility cloak, because when you're wearing it, you're basically invisible. Especially here in the Hamptons, where everyone likes to pretend that the people that make their pretty homes pretty don't exist.

When I wear my MEWOU most people start assuming a whole lot of shit.

I'm dumb. Poor. Uneducated. Slow. That I probably don't understand English (You'd be surprised of the things they say within earshot of me). Funniest thing of all is that I'm not even Mexican.

I was born in Florida.

I've only been to Mexico once to visit some stupid cousins.

It's the best disguise in the world and I'm wearing it now when I bike towards Pepe's shop on my MEWOU bike.

There's more life in this neighbourhood than in a lot of places here, where a lot of the houses are lived in only a few months a year, but here there are other shops and retail and grocery outfits. Even so, not much is going on yet except for other people wearing MEWOUs that look a lot like me. There's also an old guy walking his dog. A white kid on a bicycle. A bakery truck making a delivery.

Then there's a block of apartments and that's when I notice it.

The cop car less than a block from Pepe's shop.

It's unmarked and the two guys inside the car are plainclothes, but I know a cop when I see one. I'd stake my life on it.

When you come from a family of crooks, you learn how to spot cops at about the same time that you learn your ABCs.

I get stupid nervous again and my knees shake when I pedal my bike. I almost want to hit the brakes and turn around. But that would attract attention.

So I keep pedalling and remind myself that I'm invisible.

Then, one block further down, I spot the second cop car. Unmarked with two fat, white plainclothes coppers inside.

Fuck.

I keep pedalling even though I'm shaking so hard I'm scared that I'm gonna fall off my bike.

Something's very, very wrong.

Manhattan, NYC

He watched her restlessness with fascination. Between texting Esposito, checking the time every thirty seconds, biting her nails, and pacing an oval-shaped indentation into his hardwood floor, she was a pent-up coil of nervous energy.

"It's nine fifteen."

"I know."

She stopped pacing to bore her eyes into him. "He should be there by now. Why isn't Espo giving me an update?"

"Because…he's at work and wants to keep his job?'

"How are you not on pins and needles? It's you who this guy is obsessed with."

"Thanks for the reminder."

She cringed. "I'm sorry."

He held out his arm and when she accepted the offer, he pulled her towards the kitchen counter that he was leaning against. "Come here. Your pacing is driving me crazy."

He wrapped an arm around her when she was close enough and could feel the pounding of her heart. "I want this over with."

"Me too."

He caught a mouthful of her hair in his mouth when she whipped her head around to show him Esposito's latest text message. "Shit…" she mouthed.

-No go

"What does that mean?" Castle questioned her.

"Means he didn't show."

"You said they'd call again at 9:15 if he didn't show."

She called her partner this time instead of texting. Or at least that's who Castle assumed she was calling when she held up her phone to make a call. "Espo, it's me. Tell me what happened…" She cringed again. "Okay…I'll hold."

Castle raised his brows.

"Gates is within earshot. He's gotta step away," Beckett explained.

They both waited an endlessly long twenty seconds before Esposito was back on the other end. "Espo, you're on speaker," Beckett told him. "I'm with Castle."

"When he didn't show by 9:15am they called his number as was the plan."

"And?"

"Number's been disconnected."

"Damn…" Beckett balled her fist and for a second he thought she might punch something. "So what next?"

"Local cops in the Hamptons are doing an area canvas. Getting his picture out there. And Gates wants to bring in the mother, asap. Come down on her hard before she thinks of squirreling away her psycho kid."

Beckett bit her lip. She'd have done the same. "Okay. Makes sense."

"Gotta go."

"Wait! If they're bringing in Maria Ojeda, I need to be there! This is my case!"

"I suggest you call Gates and check with her. But maybe wait five minutes so it's not that obvious that I'm your personal snitch. And be careful, she's on the war path."

Beckett did as he suggested. Waited ten minutes and then called Gates to ask whether Ojeda had shown up and pretended to act surprised when the Captain told her they were moving on to plan B.

But, no matter how much thin ice she was on with her boss, she didn't hide her irritation when Gates told her she wouldn't be conducting the interrogation because she was still on sick leave. Because of the urgency of the matter, it had to be done today. Gates would do it herself, alongside Esposito whose fluency in Spanish would be an asset.

"She said if I wanted to come in and observe it in my spare time, I could," she told Castle, while angrily tossing back a strand of hair that had fallen over her face.

"So we're going to the precinct?"

"Yes." Beckett eyed him. "Wait…what do you mean we?"

"You're still my bodyguard, aren't you? Forced to keep an eye on me at all times."

Beckett's rolled her eyes. "Oh, I've got my eye on you, don't you worry."

12th Precinct, NYC

It all went downhill quickly. From the moment Beckett stepped into the precinct.

Maria Ojeda walked into the station thirty minutes later, with no fewer than two lawyers in tow. Well-armed and defensive from the get-go.

Beckett had observed Gates and Esposito in the interrogation room from the two-way mirror, with Castle by her side, and it was obvious they didn't stand a chance.

Even though there was plenty of evidence to suggest that Maria Ojeda was fully fluent in English, she pretended not to speak a word. When confronted about the car, she fluttered her eyelashes and turned to her lawyers.

And they explained that it was stolen months ago.

The entire interrogation was over almost before it began.

Beckett hoped that at least Esposito might have caught an utterance or two in Spanish that would tell them something. But this was a mob family. They'd learned how to handle law enforcement from the time they could walk.

"Is there nothing we can hold her on?" Castle asked her, still staring straight ahead into the

"Like, what? Not reporting a stolen car?"

There wasn't anything concrete, Beckett knew it. Not without a witness saying they saw her drive the car that hit her. And of course, that wouldn't happen because she wasn't the driver.

"But there's a clear connection," Castle argued. "Between her, the ownership of the car and our suspect, her son!"

"Even Salvador Ojeda is…nothing more than a suspect right now. That Civic could have been in the area by coincidence," she told him, wanting to kick herself all over again for letting him slip out of her fingers. "You do write crime thrillers for a living, right? We need evidence, Rick. We need to find the car. Find out where he lives. Find something tangible. As of now we just have a missing gardener that used false ID and a potential car thief guilty of a hit and run."

"I know…" he mumbled. "I'm grasping at straws."

She wanted to put an arm around him. But she whispered an apology instead.

He wouldn't have to grasp at straws if she'd done her job.

"So they won't hold her?"

"Gates might come up with some Mickey Mouse charge," Beckett told him. "But I don't think she will. Maybe if she'd have come in on her own, but the two lawyers in the room will alert the family that we're looking for Salvador anyway."

They watched as the lawyers told Gates to either charge Maria Ojeda or let her walk, and Beckett saw no hesitation when the Captain stood up, straightened her skirt and shot one of the lawyers a look that could kill. "You tell your client that her son is a suspect in two attempted murders. That it is in his best interest to come in to us willingly."

"Mrs. Ojeda has already informed you that she hasn't seen or heard of her son in months," one of the lawyers shot back. "We have nothing else to say."

The three of them walked out of the interrogation room, and Beckett's eyes never left Maria Ojeda until she stepped into the precinct elevator with her two-man entourage and disappeared from view, giving away nothing. Not a single emotion to be read on her flawlessly made-up face.

"Anything?" Beckett turned to Esposito when they were gone.

"Nada."

Gates stormed across the bullpen. "I want tails on as many Ojeda family members as possible, for at least the next 48 hours, starting now and including the one who just left this precinct."

Detective Kevin Ryan picked up his phone. "On it."

"Esposito, I want you to coordinate the rest. Keep an eye on the comings and going of their main family home and let me know which ones you have tails on. Manpower is not an issue, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Mr. Castle," Gates turned to him. "I'm confident we will find Salvador Ojeda sooner rather than later, but until we do, I would recommend you stay in the city and continue making use of your police protection."

Castle was taking everything in, Beckett noticed. She half expected him to start taking notes for a new thriller he was writing. "I can do that."

"Beckett…"

Beckett winced. She wanted to lead this investigation, to get back to the precinct where she belonged rather than continue as a demoted bodyguard. But she knew what was coming before Gates finished saying her name.

"Can I count on you to keep Mr. Castle safe for the time being?"

"Yes, Sir." She didn't argue. She knew it was what she deserved after failing to catch Ojeda when she had the chance. She also didn't want Castle to see how much it frustrated her.

It wasn't about not wanting to protect him. She'd do everything in her power to make sure he was safe, with or without Gates's orders.

But she wanted to do more.

That was the end of the conversation and their captain stormed into her office to make the phone calls it would inevitably take to mount the kind of assault on the Ojeda crime family that she was hinting at.

Beckett knew that Gates didn't need to go this far to apprehend a celebrity stalker, that this, this escalation of everything was because of her. To bring down a man who'd tried to kill a member of the captain's precinct.

And for the first time since meeting her, Beckett sensed that maybe Gates had her back after all. That she'd been too busy licking her wounds lately to realize it.

"Keep me posted, will you?" she told Esposito. "And make sure you talk to Castle's Hamptons staff first, now that we no longer have to worry about spooking Salvador. The lady who comes in once a week to clean and the other gardeners. They must have interacted with Salvador at some point. See if he gave anything away."

"Of course."

"Come on," she cocked her head in Castle's direction. "Let's get out of here." If Gates wouldn't let her work on the case then they might as well get out of the precinct. She wasn't good at being useless.

"Do you think they'll find him?" Castle asked her once they were back outside. The mid-town traffic pulsated around them, and the bright, late-morning sun was letting them know that it would be another scorcher. Castle pulled out his sunglasses before he she got the chance to answer.

It made her smirk. How gorgeous he was in his dark, blue shirt and those expensive glasses.

Not that she'd tell him, because it would only go right to his ruggedly handsome head.

"Well…" He pestered. Relentless, as usual.

No.

She didn't think they would.

But she didn't tell him that either.

"I think…" She weighed her words. "We'll find his place. Maybe the car."

"But not him."

"Not if his family gets to him first."

"And the tails you're putting on them…"

Useless, she wanted to tell him, but that felt too much like she was betraying her cops.

Neither of them turned towards the subway entrance they passed, and that was a silent agreement that they'd walk back to his place.

Castle wanted to stop at a vendor for an ice cream and he offered her one, but Beckett declined. She wasn't about to be caught off guard twice. Her full attention was on their surroundings this time. Watching every car and every pedestrian that came near them with the eyes of a hawk.

So much so, that she barely noticed him devouring his chocolate dipped vanilla-swirl cone.

She breathed a sigh of relief when they entered his loft building just over thirty minutes later. She exhaled when they stepped into the empty elevator, finally allowing herself to let her guard down.

Castle moved into her space, and lifted his sunglasses off, giving her a smile that lit up his blue eyes of his. "Was it as hard for you as it was for me?"

"Hard?"

He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close. "To keep your hands off me at the precinct?"

Yes.

A hand cupped her neck and he leaned in to kiss her, his lips sweet and warm and hungry.

Warmth flooded through her, her body melting into his already. It still frightened her a little, how urgently her body craved his touch. "You taste like chocolate."

He kissed her deep and hard. "You taste like heaven."

"You know that 'cause you've been there?"

"I know because if it doesn't then I don't want to go there."

She could feel that he wanted her too, when he pressed her body into his.

"Castle-" It took all her willpower to push him away when the elevator door pinged open. To clear her head from the whirl of intoxication that was clouding it now.

To remind herself that Salvador Ojeda could be lurking in the hallway, ready to ram a knife into her.

She shot out her arm and made sure she stepped outside first and scanned the corridor before she let him walk towards the door of his apartment.

He pulled her close again, making her hot and bothered all over again.

"I need to scan your place first…"

"First before what?" He teased, sliding a hand into her jeans, letting his fingers caress her belly and move almost low enough to…

"For fuck's sake." She twirled out of his delicious grasp. "Before I'm gonna kill you…"

He followed her as she reconnoitered. "You won't. Because you want me as much as I want you."

"You're so cocky, Castle, you know that?"

"What about my cock?"

"Unbelievable," she mumbled under her breath, clearing one room after another, unsure how she able to concentrate on a damn thing when his hands kept toying with her clothes.

When she was done, she grabbed him by the collar and yanked hard, bringing him close enough that their noses touched. "I am going to murder you. Right now. Death by homicide detective."

He was grinning. "Just kiss me first. Then you can do whatever you want."

She did, jumping him and wrapping her longs legs around him, knowing that he was more than strong enough to hold her.

And he did, kissing her back while he carried her over to the kitchen counter and slid her on it. Undressing her with such haste that she didn't even feel him taking off her bra and already his mouth was on her breast. She must have had a hand in it too, because suddenly he was naked too, claimed her and filling her, and it was too much and not enough all at once, and all of it was glorious haze that she wanted to drown in.

Rough guttural sounds came from the depths of his throat and uncontrollable cries escaped hers in response to what his body did to hers.

It was hard and tender and desperate and it made her ache in all the best ways.

Alive. He always made her feel so alive.

"Feels so good to have you. To see you come undone," he whispered into her ear after his teeth nibbled on its lobe and then he picked her up and took her into the bedroom. Made love to her all over again. Made her cry far too loud and she was grateful that this old once-industrial building had very thick walls.

When they were both spent, she found herself on top of him, head buried into his chest and legs entwined with legs, his heart still beating hard and fast beneath her cheek.

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and then trailed an index finger down her back, sliding it along the spine that was slick with perspiration. "I could get used to his."

She smiled. "Sex before lunch?"

"You. On top of me. Like this."

"You won't say that if you keep feeding me like you do."

He laughed. "You won't have the energy for this if I don't."

Her fingers played with the hair on his chest. "Oh yeah…"

"Kate…"

The tone of his voice changed, drastically enough so that it made her tilt her head up in his direction. "What is it."

"There's something I need to tell you."

He sounded so serious now that she slid off him and propped herself up on one elbow. "Is everything okay?"

He was still lying on his back looking up at her. Hesitant.

"Tell me," she insisted, all her earlier giddy playfulness gone now too. Suddenly afraid and chilled.

"There's something I've kept from you."