Chapter 2

Lunch at the loft was just the two of them, Rick and Alexis, her available time limited before she had to be back on campus for a meeting of the newspaper staff, and he hadn't yet decided whether or not to tell her about the letters, but as close as the pair had always been, despite his effort to conceal his growing uneasiness behind a smile, it was obvious to her that he just wasn't quite himself. Of course, truth be told, he hadn't quite been himself since the end of the summer.

As fathers went, Alexis had been incredibly blessed. With her mother at a perpetual distance-however honest or dishonest her insistence that reality hadn't been of detrimental consequence-nearly the entirety of her life had passed solely under his watch, and there were few complaints of any significance she'd be able to cite if asked. He'd been everything she'd needed, and she wanted to be the same for him, especially in his rare periods of struggle.

"You always finish all your noodles. They're your favorite part," Rick observed aloud. "Are they okay? You can have the rest of my rice, if you want."

Alexis stopped pushing them around with her chopsticks and set the carton down. "No, thanks, they're fine. I'm just distracted, I guess. I'm at deadline for my article and I still haven't figured out how to end it."

Like father, like daughter, he thought-on both counts.

"I have written a thing or two in my time, you know, so if you want me to, I can take a look."

"Thanks, Dad, but I'll get it. You already have enough to do with your own stuff. Gram said you're late on your new chapters."

Rick tore open the plastic around one of the included fortune cookies, tossed it toward the takeout bag and missed with a scowl. "Did she now? Well, I heard your grandmother rehearsing for something this week, and I say she should be more concerned about her own house than mine." With a crack, a spray of crumbs tumbled down the front of his shirt.

"Dad, be nice," Alexis scolded. "She's just worried about you. That's all." Grabbing a cookie for herself, she followed his lead. "I am, too. And, yes, before you say it, I know. You're fine, right?" she went on mockingly. "I don't know who you think you're kidding," she mumbled, tugging free the paper hidden inside.

Sometimes Rick wondered why he even tried to pretend, and he'd done it to himself. He'd cultivated exactly the kind of relationship with his daughter he'd always hoped for, and now he couldn't hide anything from her.

"Are you reading first or am I?" he asked, hoping to bypass any further inquiry on his current emotional state. "Fair warning, mine is gloriously stupid this time. This might be the day I take back the crown."

"You will never again wear the crown. Never," she replied in playful dismissal. "But, by all means, go ahead. Take your best shot. I could use a good laugh."

He cleared his voice deliberately and fired. "Mine says, 'If you're reading this, stop playing with your food and eat it.'" With a cocky flick of his brow, he pushed it across the table. "There is no way I'm losing with that."

Alexis gave hers another glance and her lips curled. "You have underestimated my skill at fortune cookie selection, once again, Father," she declared in a cartoonish voice. "The crown is on this head to stay, because the only thing mine says is 'Cookie' with an exclamation point."

Rick swiped it from her hand in disbelief, but it was true. "Unbelievable," he scoffed and crinkled up the paper. When he looked up, she was grinning widely, and he couldn't help but do the same. That was her power.

"Alexis," he said, his tone mismatched to his expression, "I know I don't have to tell you this, but when you're out alone off campus or even when you're at school, make sure you're careful, okay? Make sure you pay attention to the people around you, and just be aware of what's happening."

Even with everything he had going on, she found the admonition and its timing strange, but she knew the best course of action was to simply acknowledge and agree. With him, that would be her easiest and cleanest way out of a conversation they really didn't need to have."

"I am, Dad, and I do. I promise." She got up, gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for lunch, but I have to get back. I have my meeting and another class."

"I wish we could do it every day. Text me when you get there, okay? Yeah, yeah, I know, dads right?" he said when he spied the look she tossed him. "Humor me. I bought you noodles."

Alexis hugged him and left, even more certain there was something going on he wasn't telling her about.

xxxx

Sometimes Rick still got lost in her face. Minutes would go by and he wouldn't look away, no matter what the rest of the world was doing around him. Over his time with her, he'd managed well to sidestep detection, but she had caught him a few times-a number nowhere near what he'd been guilty of-and as he sat there that afternoon in the corner of the coffee shop, Kate staring up at him from the screen of his phone, he found himself back inside one of those few times, the recollection so crisp, it felt as though they were still locked in that closet together at that very moment.

The blunt edge of the shelf along the wall forced an audible puff from his lungs when she backed his body up against it, the burn prompted by the unexpected impact quickly soothed by her warm mouth as it made contact with his.

They were in their place-if only on occasional loan from an unknowing 12th Precinct-a place they went to, a secret place, when days were hard, when they hungered for touch, when there was no other reason beyond the rush of it.

"Beckett, if this mop and I get any more acquainted, I might have to buy it flowers," Rick joked in a whisper as Kate's tongue sampled the skin of his neck.

"Why did you do that?" she asked before nipping his jaw with her teeth. "I told you not to look at me like that when I'm trying to work. I don't have time for this."

Rick's fingers drifted into her hair and he clutched a knot of it in his fist. "Seeing as you were the one that pulled me in here, I'd say all evidence to the contrary, Detective. And, yes, before you ask, I did hope that dazzling pun might earn me some extra closet credit." With his free hand, he crept beneath the hem of her blouse, dipped just below the waist of her jeans but no further. "Will it?" he said, more a dare than a question.

All they had was a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, but where she had him pinned its soft light hit just right, the glisten off the target of her tongue's thorough attention prompting an impish smile.

"Pulled you? Right, like you weren't begging me with that look. Castle, you can't…" When his hand traveled lower and his thumb started, her words broke off, because every thought she had besides screwing him silly against that shelf suddenly disappeared.

"Oh, I can, and it definitely feels like you want me to." He'd picked up her wayward reprimand and run sideways with it, but Kate could formulate no retort. The methodical circuit of his exploration had her entire body humming under its spell. "But, I'm sorry," he said and stopped the motion. "I interrupted you. That was rude of me. What were you were saying? What can't I do, Detective?"

"You're such an ass," she huffed as her hands flew to his belt. "Ten minutes, Castle, that's it, and don't wrinkle my shirt like you did last time."

Rick reached an arm over his shoulder for the pile of rags behind him and tossed one over the top of the mop's handle. "So she doesn't get jealous," he wisecracked and then made matching work of her button and her zipper.

He felt the hand on his shoulder before he heard the voice that went with it, and he looked up to find one of the coffee shop's employees standing beside him with an empty mug in her hand. He recognized her right away, though she hadn't been the one to help him at the counter earlier, and as pleasant as he recalled she'd been in the past, he couldn't help but feel anger towards her for yanking him from his reverie.

"You're Rick, right?" the woman said, sounding certain she already knew. "I try to learn the regulars' names. They seem to like it, the personal touch."

"Rick, yeah." She had a name tag pinned to her shirt, and he did a double-take when his eyes landed on it. Twice, then three times, then four, he read it, and as a self-professed observer of the world, he could hardly believe he'd never noticed. I mean, Christ, it was even spelled the same way. "It is nice, Nikki, thanks." It felt weird to even say it.

"Can I get that out of your way for you?" Rick grabbed his empty, tried to hand it to her as she'd offered, but in just the time that simple action took him, her focus appeared to have drifted. "She's pretty," she remarked without context. "You love her."

He was sure of what he'd heard, and confused until he realized her eyes were fixed on his phone with Kate's image on the screen. Flustered, "I am finished with this," was all he said, leaving her comments unacknowledged in an effort to try and move her along. "Thanks."

She snatched the cup from his hand, gave him a "You're welcome" with something that wasn't sincerity behind it, but then her demeanor abruptly changed again. "I'll see you soon, Rick," she declared with a smile and walked away.

xxxx

The shop had a website he called up while at his desk later, and along with what one might expect to find there-the story of its history, its menus, and its contact information, among other tidbits-its small band of employees was also featured, but, strangely, Nikki wasn't among the group.

Rick liked it there, and he'd visited frequently, with his mother, his daughter, even Kate when she'd stayed at the loft rather than going home to her own bed. It was a neighborhood place, quaint, absent the masses that crowded the chain he used to swing by in the morning near the precinct, and he was certain the woman had attended to him before. How else would she have known him?

He couldn't stop thinking about the name, about the chances it could be the very same as his literary heroine's and that he'd never have noticed it. It was too implausible a failing, too much of a coincidence for his brain to wrap itself around, and the voice he kept hearing in his head was Kate's, reminding him how rare true coincidences actually were.

Alexis was off skiing with friends for the weekend, a chance to blow off some steam before the lockdown for exams, which he'd verified and which did help to bring some ease of mind. He'd left a message for Javi, too, just to bounce the day's peculiarity off of him, and he was still awaiting his return call.

They'd spoken about the letters after his visit to the 12th, but without any directly expressed threats, without anything in them to work with as far as author identifiers, all Rick could really do, he'd been told, short of hiring personal security to follow him around-an option he found extreme, at that point-was practice vigilance and report anything unusual or any further contact.

"A buck for your thoughts?" Martha slid into the office wearing an expression of pure satisfaction and the shade of a garden rose, shoulder to shin, her hands filled with bags of all shapes and sizes.

Rare was a moment his mother wasn't a sight to behold-entirely purposeful on her part, to be certain-and that moment was no exception.

"It looks like you put quite a dent in Fifth Avenue, Mother. Are you sure you have a buck left to give? What, did you get a raise in your allowance or something?"

She dropped her assorted treasures where she stood and peeled off her new winter coat. "We're best of friends, already, aren't we?" she cooed at the cashmere hanging from her finger, before draping it across the nearby chair. "I rather enjoyed myself this afternoon, darling, yes, and why shouldn't I? Everyone should splurge on themselves now and again, especially when they've just scored a recurring role on the hottest new nighttime soap around."

"What? You're kidding! Mother, you didn't say a word about any audition for a new show." He pushed out of his chair and came around to give her a hug. "That's amazing news, congratulations. Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"Thank you, Richard. I mean, it all just came together, really, and I know you've been, shall we say, preoccupied the last week or so. I figured it best to wait until I was sure."

Rick went back to his desk, the website's employee bio page still up on his laptop-preoccupied, Exhibit A. "It doesn't matter, Mother. You know I would've wanted to know," he said feeling a twinge of guilt with the parallel.

"And what's good for the goose, Richard..."

She and Alexis, both of them always knew.

"It's nothing I can't handle," he replied with hope of truth in his assurance, but when her fists hit her hips, he knew his attempt to placate had fallen short. "Okay, fine, it's just a thing with a fan who has sent some letters that have taken a turn toward…less than appropriate."

"And what exactly are we talking about here, lace underthings in envelopes, selfie-centerfolds? What?"

Rick scrunched up his face, though either of those scenarios would definitely be odd but preferable.

"God, Mother, no, and let's agree right now never to talk about lace anythings, okay? It's just not a good mother/son topic," he added with a shiver. "This person-this woman-seems to be under the misguided notion that she and Alexis and I can somehow be a family. The language has just escalated, recently."

"Alexis? She talked about Alexis, too? Oh, Richard, that is not-"

"I know, Mother. I know, and I haven't said anything to Alexis about it, not yet, so please don't. I'm not sure I even have to. I know she's already careful, but I reiterated that she needs to be aware of what's going on around her, whether she's at school or wherever. And there haven't been any threats, but I went to Esposito and Ryan about it anyway, just to see what they thought, and I'm doing everything I really can right now."

"Javier and Kevin? That's smart, yes, good. I know they've always been there for you. I only wish-" She caught herself before the name came out. It was one she hadn't spoken in a long time, but she thought of Kate every time she looked at her son, because she knew he was still carrying so much of her with him. "Please don't act like you're alone here, Richard. This and all the rest of it are what you have us for."

They shared a look of understanding before Martha gathered up her things.

"I'm very happy for you, Mother. I'm sure you're going to be great."

"From your lips, kiddo. Oh, and not to worry, if you hear any sobs coming from upstairs tonight, it's just me worshipping the positively divine gold pantsuit I bought. Who knows? Maybe I'll wear it to the Emmys next year," she said with a wink.

Rick smiled as she twirled away on her toes, and then turned his attention back to his laptop. Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe he was thinking too much. There had been twelve other letters, after all, and nothing had happened during all those months. Maybe it was all bullshit and his mind was stuck in fiction mode or needed the distraction. By trade, that's where it lived most of the time, anyway.

The trouble was, where there existed a maybe, there also existed a maybe not.

xxxx

That night, restless sleep plagued him once again, but rather than lay there staring at the ceiling, Rick was up and out with the first light of morning, and with a purpose. The coffee shop opened at 6:30 a.m., and he walked in shortly after, stood in line behind a pair of joggers catching a break from the cold.

He only noted one employee, the woman behind the counter, and it wasn't Nikki, and for her absence he was thankful, because it presented him with just the opportunity he was hoping for.

"Morning, what can I get for you?" she asked when the two before him finished their transaction and stepped aside.

Realizing he hadn't given any thought to the actual coffee part of it all, he ended up blurting out the first thing that came to mind, and it turned out to be something he never usually ordered and didn't really want.

"Lilith, can you tell me if Nikki's working today?" In light of the previous day's encounter, he'd sought out her name tag straight away, and in an effort to preempt any misgivings about an inquiry from a stranger that might well elicit them, he tacked on a tranquilizing fib. "I could've sworn she said she was opening this morning."

She angled her head around the raucous machine spinning between them. "I'm sorry, who? It's impossible to hear over this thing," she said, tapping the grinder.

The noise began to subside and Rick reached for his wallet. "Um, Nikki? I just, I thought she was going to be here, that's all."

Lilith knitted her brow. "We don't have anyone named Nikki that works here. Do you mean Maci? I know she's supposed to come in in a couple of hours."

Rick's face flushed what he imagined must've been cherry red. "Right, yeah, Maci, that's…Sorry, it's really early. Obviously, I haven't had my coffee yet."

He'd tried to make light of it, but nothing about what he'd just learned felt funny.