Chapter 23

Oh. My. God. I am SO sorry for the unforgivable delay between chapters. The usual issues have arisen, but I am back now. I am bringing this story into its last streak of chapters. More frequently. I swear. So ashamed...

Thank you to my long suffering Beta. This was never meant to go on this long. Thank you for your understanding and dedication to this labour. I appreciate it so much.

And lastly, I am very nervous about this chapter. Its needed to bridge to the next part of the story, but I hope it adds something along the way and I hope that you like it. Please let me know what you think. And once again, sincere apologies to all you lovely people that have stuck by this (inadvertantly) lengthy story. I hope you continue to find these chapters worth waiting for.

On with the show...

Beckett watched Castle as he blinked away his round-eyed surprise at the unexpected appearance of the auditor. Within a heartbeat lines of tension smoothed, his posture straightened, body language becoming relaxed and open, and somehow, somehow, despite the slight smirk that also appeared, he was suddenly all at once both guileless and beguiling. But then that twist of his lips grew as the auditor went on and on with his over-articulated and painfully plodding introductions, and Kate added cocky and smug to her descriptive list. She had seen this sort of instantaneous transformation before of course, in the street, on cases, even in the Precinct, as fans large and small, famous, infamous, bashful, fawning and sleazy, lunged at him without warning. No matter what he was doing at the time he seemed to flip an internal switch, and there he was: Mr Smug-celebrity-cum-wise-ass. It was the same self-satisfied flippant expression, the exact body language that he had worn at their first encounter. And she had immediately assumed as she became instantly, heatedly, irritated by it, that what she was seeing in front of her was the outward expression of the entirety of his character: cocky, immature, self-centred, smart-ass, opportunistic, shallow jerk! It had irked her then, and it continued to, even as she came to know that her first assumption had been wrong.

"- And, considering the circumstances, I am sure the Captain will not mind if we use his office for this interview - " the auditor was saying, turning to look at his victim. Beckett glanced at the Captain, reading the flash of annoyance on the man's face.

"Ah!" Castle interrupted the smaller man, his grin stretching into a fully fledged beam as he swooped to Montgomery's rescue, "but we can't get ourselves coffee in the good Captain's office." He slung his injured arm around the auditor's shoulders, making the smaller man grunt and dip under the unexpected weight, and pointed at the break room door. "Now, you probably don't know this about me, but I make a killer latte. I do. Really, outstanding. The foam: as delicate as a springtime cloud. You can ask anyone here - Espo?"

"What? Don't lay that delicate cloud crap on me Castle," Espo retorted, squaring up his shoulders, jutting out his chin. It took all Kate's strength not to roll her eyes. "I drink real coffee, man's coff-"

"Ah, don't mind him, he's shy," Castle interrupted the other man with a dismissive wave so perfectly reminiscent of his mother. Espo bristled. "He's a fan. Really. Now, where was I? Oh yes: the perfect latte-"

"This is really not necessary, Mr Castle," the auditor spluttered, as Castle talked over the top of him.

"It's no trouble. No trouble at all. Now, behind that very door over there, is the machine with which I will work my magic for you."

" But -"

"Aah, feeling cautious?" Castle asked companionably as he began to escort the bewildered auditor the short distance from their huddle to the break room. "I understand. I do. It's difficult to get a really top line caffè latte away from The Continent. But set aside your reservations my friend: I am a trained Barista! Two summers ago, my family and I vacationed in Rome and -" Castle opened the door as he continued to ramble away, and gently but inexorably steered the auditor into the break room. The author winked back at them, smirked at Espo, and vanished into the room still running his patter like a used-car salesman. The door closed behind them. A moment later the venetian blinds in the break room windows clattered shut.

"I don't know which one of them to feel sorrier for," Espo muttered. "Clouds, my ass!"

Montgomery ignored the outburst, drew in and released a relieved breath, a satisfied look on his face. He turned to the two Detectives: "Right. Castle is doing his job. Now, you two go find that girl."

CASTLECASTLECASTLE

Kate accessed the speed dial on her cell as she stared at the closed break room door. What was Castle doing in there? She raised the phone to her ear catching the purr of the last few numbers cycling through the dial out for Kevin Ryan. Was he really actually making that annoying man coffee? And - a latte? Really: a latte? He couldn't have picked a cappuccino to tempt...

"Hey Boss."

"Kevin!" Kate snapped, and winced, feeling a faint flush of embarrassment. It's just a coffee for godsake! She was losing the plot here. Unprofessional. Ridiculous. Petty. She drew in a breath. "Sorry. Are you free to talk?"

"Yes, go ahead."

"What's happening with Carmichael? Any movement?"

"Not really. He's pretty much marking time from what I can see. Made a few phone calls. I can't get close enough to listen in without being made. But, so far, no movement."

"OK. It looks like we have a new lead. Carmichael, or at least someone connected to him, has been keeping Baxter quiet," Kate paused, "by threatening his daughter."

"Jesus." Ryan's disgust broadcast clearly over the cell connection.

"So," Kate went on, "Javi and I will be tracking her down to bring her in. ASAP. I need you to sit tight a little longer. We'll be as discreet and as fast as we can, but if Carmichael learns what we are up to - "

"He'll make a move on the kid - if he doesn't have her already," Ryan finished.

"Yeah. Or move on Baxter. Or both of them." Kate nodded as she spoke. She could only hope that Carmichael, or his associates, did not already have the girl. Right now, their best hope was that the threat was still abstract, still only words. If not then their job was going to be near impossible in the minuscule timeframe they were pushing against.

"OK, I'll let you know if Carmichael makes any suspicious moves. Or if he disappears."

"Thanks Kevin."

"What about the lawyer? Barnes? Anyone sitting on her?"

"Not enough evidence to support the resources we would need. If she is involved, and I am not so sure she is, we are just going to have to move even faster and be even smarter. A little girl's life may depend on it."

"Understood," Ryan answered. The call ended.

Kate drew in a long breath and let it go.

They would have to move fast. And tactfully. She ran her fingers through her hair as she laid her cell down on the desk and logged back into her computer. Kevin was good at his job. Better than good. So, for the moment Carmichael was dealt with, and she could focus on Baxter and his daughter. Espo was already adding grease to smooth the official and unofficial wheels that led to Baxter's cell door. A friend from his old neighbourhood, one that had joined the Force a few years after him, was currently the Uniform on duty in the cells and her partner was confident that he could be relied upon to help their mercy dash to save a little girl. Those cameras down there in the cells were after all overdue for maintenance anyway, and Javi felt sure they weren't in the best of condition and might at any time go on the fritz. He was sure his friend would feel the same way.

So for the moment, Kate was able to turn her mind and her resources to narrowing down the best leads that might take them to Baxter's daughter - without the big man's help if necessary. She brought up the records and began to read, jotting down notes as she did so. The mother of Baxter's child was not listed amongst his next of kin and she knew that the child was not being held at his recorded place of residence, so she widened the search. Bingo Dubois' vacant eyed stare glared out at her from his mugshot as she brought up his file. Again she dismissed place of residence, instead looking at his personal connections. There was a girlfriend listed, Persephone Eloisa Charity Benardi -Chandler. Really? Kate's eyebrows climbed her forehead as she read the name. She had a similar record to Dubois', and was currently out on parole. Dubois' sister emerged next - the woman from the photograph Espo had shown them. As rat-shifty and empty-eyed as her brother, with a criminal record to rival his, also out on parole. Kate noted down her details as well. Children listed: a daughter - age 10, name: Monday Daisy Dubois-Baxter, attending a local elementary school. She flung the net wide then, tracking known associates close enough to be involved. Amongst them, Baxter's dead comrade had no listed next of kin, but there was an ex-wife living on the other side of the country. Unlikely.

This was going to have to do. They had to move.

Kate logged off from her computer and, clutching her notepad, headed towards Montgomery's door. She knocked.

"Come." Her Captain was working at his desk; a file open in front of him and his laptop open to the side.

"Sir," she greeted him.

"Detective."

"We are about ready to make a move on Baxter."

"Good. Do you have sufficient resources?"

"We still don't know all the details yet Captain. So, I am reluctant to go in heavy or with uniforms given the timeframe and how little we know. We can't afford to alert Carmichael or his people to what we are doing. If the threat against Baxter's daughter is academic so far, that's one thing, but if he is holding her somewhere - "

"Let's hope he's not."

"Given the circumstances then, sir, I would like to request two additional officers, in plain clothes. Gomez and Ataturk are available, and they are discreet and reliable. Depending on the outcome of the interrogation with Baxter we may to need to hit multiple locations very quickly to pick up the daughter."

Montgomery regarded her for a moment, nodding, and sat back in his chair. "I know we have discussed the matter," he said, "but do you really think Castle is up for this? For interrogating Baxter? For convincing him to let us help his daughter? The man looks like yesterday's punching bag, and while I am well aware how well he handles his hearing issues, there is a lot riding on this: can he handle it?"

"Yes. Sir. I think he can." Kate nodded slowly, realising as she listened to Montgomery's concerns, that she meant it: yes, she did think Castle could do this. Despite his ordeal over the last few days. Maybe even because of it. "He's seen how we operate, and I have to admit that he has some - ability. And he isn't police. In this case, right now, I think he could be the one to help us."

"Well. Stay with him when you are interrogating Baxter. Apart from anything else, I don't want to see another headline connecting Castle's face with a suspect's fist and this Precinct again for a long long time. Go brief Gomez and Ataturk. Dismissed. And good luck."

Kate headed back into the bullpen, and was relieved to see a familiar figure once again in Castle's chair: her partner was back. He was hunched over and staring at his cellphone, forehead creased, lips firmly pressed together, oblivious of her approach. She took a moment to quietly, stealthily, appreciate what she was seeing now that she could take the time to do so. He looked good – better, anyway. A little scruffy – though he had clearly tried to shave around the bruises – but otherwise he appeared much more rested than she had seen him since the fight with Baxter. He was wearing that blue open collar shirt and navy pea coat that he so loved, and those dark jeans that she so – well –. But the familiar shape of him, broad and solid, filling the chair and somehow managing to sprawl messily outside its frame even as still and contained as he was right now, took some weight from her shoulders. She watched him swipe and swat at his cell phone with his less injured thumb, still not registering her approach. Yes, they were going to do this, she thought. They were going to save that child and solve this case. Together.

But then that painful confession, the one that was so difficult for him to put words too, rose in her mind and she was suddenly also reminded of his embrace - their embrace - barely a day old. It was the one thing she had been trying not to think about since that night, and she had been somewhat successful at it until right about now. He had grabbed at her, pulling her in to his chest, without preamble or any warning. She remembered the raw feeling bleeding from him, the heat of his skin burning through his shirt, and that same cologne that was now permeating the air around her desk... She swallowed. Had he thought about it since? No. This was not the time or place to be thinking about this. In fact she did not want to think of it at all. Nope. She was still feeling the newness of the small touches they were sharing. Even if most of them were utilitarian in motive, the feel of him under her finger tips and those returned touches were startling in their intensity and were stirring things she would rather not recognize. Thinking of anymore was just too much.

No.

They had a case.

They had a girl to find.

Then they had Castle's case – if he would let her help him. Anymore was just too much.

"That better not be Alive4-ever, Castle!" She called out, disguising the alert to her approach within familiar hard edged banter. Alive4-ever was his favorite App at the moment: zombies and more zombies. She had caught him out more than once fussing with the Undead and creating a nuisance of himself with his wriggling and flourishing and loud exclamations as some virtual zombie took him by surprise, so it was a safely normal thing to broadcast across the room. She rounded her desk and bumped the back of his chair with her hip as she did. Just to be sure he got the message.

"Ah, Beckett!" Castle finally looked up, smoothly deflecting from his failure to detect her approach with a broad showy grin, cheesy and plastic, and slipped his cell into the breast pocket of his shirt, under his coat. Kate frowned at the odd secrecy of the movement. Perhaps he was also deflecting from whatever he was doing on his phone as well? Didn't he say something about Alexis sending him messages while he was out of the loft? Was that it? No, that didn't make sense. He wouldn't hide that? Her curiosity bubbled just under her skin, but she could see he was not in a mood to tell her. Fine. That was fine.

"What did you do with our mutual friend?" she asked, gesturing at the break room door. "Do I need to make an arrest?"

"Ah no. No cuffs needed. Not for that at least," he rejoined. "No, our Mr Jones, Auditor Extraordinaire, discovered all that he needed to and is on his way back to see our beloved Mayor to file his glowing report on the conditions at the 12th with - regards to yours truly." She heard the subtle hesitation as he instinctively avoided mention of his precise medical condition, and she watched him breeze on before he could be called on it. It was amazing to see these small signs now that she knew what he was doing and why. Each cover was so smooth, so natural in execution that she was beginning to feel she could let herself off the hook for not recognizing his hearing issues much earlier. "I don't think he will be back."

Still...

"That- " she hesitated herself, searching for the words. Maybe just finding the courage to voice them. "That must have been - difficult Castle. To talk to him. About –" She watched Castle's lips twist, recognizing what she was asking. How long had it been since he had had to have a frank discussion about his hearing with a stranger, with anyone? Now, in less than a week he had been forced to have that revealing conversation with so many people, and see it put up in headlines in the press, but this was a different, perhaps more confronting thing. This was clinical. This was a discussion designed to dissect his experiences at the 12th as a person no longer viewed as whole, vital or capable. In that room, no matter how he would no doubt have tried to control the conversation and keep it as distant from himself as possible, he would have been forced to let the auditor's knife slice into that hidden part of himself and allow the wound to be pulled open. There was a flash of something very serious, maybe even painful in her partner's eyes as she spoke, and for a moment she thought he was about speak of it, but then the expression was gone and he was shrugging it off.

"You know me: talking about myself is my favourite subject." He threw back at her, cockily, in what she now knew was a bald faced lie. But OK, message understood - that was too much of a conversation to have right now. Relief, and guilt about feeling so, sent her into retreat as well and she threw him a reflexive annoyed look that seemed to bring a measure of respite to her partner as well. Their eyes met for less than a second, but it was long enough for her to see his appreciation that she had asked the question, and the relief that she hadn't pushed him to answer.

"Well," she said, breaking the tension for them both, "on behalf of everyone at the Precinct, I thank you."

"Wait, what?" Castle blinked back at her, groping for his cell again. "Hang on, can you say that again? I need to record it."

"Record what?"

"You said: thank you. To me. About something work related. I have to record this, or the boys won't believe me."

She frowned at him. He raised his hands, cellphone back in his pocket and eyes widening in mock fear and surrender, before his gaze returned to her desk, her computer.

"So," he moved on, smoothly, and peered at her darkened computer screen. "Found anything while I was charming our dear Mr Jones?"

"Yes, actually. A few leads, but -" She paused, taking in the subtle signs of the discomfort and fatigue that were written into his face and the graceless slump of his body even as he forced himself to sit up at attention, to play his part, and knew she had to ask. "Castle. We need Baxter's help. There are leads we can run down, but it's going to be difficult. We are straddling a knife blade here - one misstep and a little girl's life could be in danger and so we need Baxter's co-operation." She watched his gaze harden, but not with anger. He understood the gravity of the situation (perhaps better than anyone involved), and she knew he did, but sometimes things needed to be voiced. "Can you do this? What you told the Captain, are you up to tackling Baxter? Really? I - I'm not asking you this because I think you can't do it. I am asking for you to think on this. To be sure. Do you feel you can do this? There is no shame in saying no. If you are needed at home. Espo and I can -"

"I can do it Beckett," he said. And from the look in his eye she could see that he intended to do it, no matter what Baxter threw at him, no matter what it cost him. She nodded and watched him lift his shoulders, the motion stiff and heavy but determined. He was tired, hurting. Was he overestimating his capabilities – as usual? Had she miscalculated how much better she thought he was? But that look in his eye... Fire and light and... Oh. She suddenly realised that the reason he was looking better than he had, was less a result of recuperation and more about that sparkling warmth, that fierce delight in the work - their work - that had returned to eyes. Something had changed since she had seen him last. Something good. He was more himself than he had been since the hospital. She wanted to ask. But, then there was a little girl out there; a child in danger. Her own personal curiosities would have to wait.

"All right." Kate nodded again, accepting Castle's surety. "Espo has gone ahead of us to clear the way to talk to Baxter, uninterrupted, and I have to go brief a few people about what we are up to. We have a few minutes. Go, take a break. A real break, Castle. You look like you need it and once this starts we won't likely get the chance to rest for some time."

End

Chapter 24 - Castle takes on Baxter and then takes on the world (as he knows it) ...