Civil War

Synopsis: A comedy about the Civil War. Beckett V Castle over domestic bliss. Season 4.5.

Chapter 2: Gettysburg, the bloodiest battle

"Mrs. Lee, I'm Detective Kate Beckett and this is Richard Castle. I'm sorry for your loss," Kate settles in to the chair across the table from the woman in the interrogation room, "I understand that you'd been married for 20 years?"

"Yeah, we . . .were, " she finishes, pursing her lips.

"And did your husband have any enemies, anyone who would want to see harm come to him?"

"He was a dentist, we live in Connecticut for heaven's sake, I can't imagine anyone wanting to hurt Rob," she sobs.

Handing her a tissue, Castle queries, "and how was business? "

"Fine. Great. Wonderful," she escalates, "we just put in a pool for the kids, Rob was talking about taking a vacation."

"And how was your relationship with your husband?" Beckett pushes.

"We . . .," the woman breaks down completely, pushing her face into her tissue, "He was cheating on me!" her sobs coming like the whine of a vacuum cleaner punctuated by short bursts of cat-in-heat. Beckett is alarmed.

"What makes you say that, Mrs. Lee?" She asks quickly.

Snuffling back, the distraught woman leans in, "He was buying me flowers."

Confusion on his face, Castle asks, "And why would that lead you to believe he was having an affair?"

"Married people don't do that," she replied nonchalantly, "and he was coming home late, sneaking around reading."

"Reading what?"

"I don't know!" the woman is beginning her decent to hysterics again, "Probably one of those pornographic magazines. He hid it from me every time I caught him with it."

"And do you know who he was seeing?"
"No, only that he was late every Tuesday night and that he was constantly mumbling to himself and hiding that book from me." And then she was wailing again.

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"Unbelievable," Castle says the moment they are standing in front of the murder board again.

"I know, right? After 20 years, he decides to cheat?" she agrees.

"No, not that," he's pulled back in his surprise, "I mean about the flowers, 'married people don't do that.' Is there some kind of rule about having no romance once you're married?"

"I don't know Castle, seems to me like you ought to know."

He quirks a brow at her.

"Besides, flowers scream, 'forgive me, I was wrong.'" Kate says nonplussed as she picks up a file.

His eyebrows squeeze together in disbelief, "How can you say that? Flowers are a way of saying, 'I'm thinking about you, my heart is with yours."

"Or a way of smoothing the path," she says, sliding her hand into the space between them to visualize her point, "to beg an apology."

"So what did your secret admirer do wrong?" He turns the conversation.

Smugly she replies, "Maybe that's for me to know."

"So you do know who he is!" He spits back.

Esposito appears at her desk, wedging himself between a tall stalk of bird of paradise and a spray of roses, his face barely peeking out, "everything all right in here?"

"Fine," they reply in unison.

"Okay, well in case you're interested we got the financials back on the dentist partnership."

"And?" Beckett is irritated, glancing at Castle.

"Grant was looking into selling his half."

They exchange a knowing glance.

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"We need to find out what Lee was doing on those Tuesday evenings," she says, "and we need to get Grant back in here to see why he wanted to sell. Espo, you and Ryan check into who Lee was seeing, find out if someone else can identify Lee's girlfriend. Castle and I will go back and see Grant."

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"So who is he?" He asks as they walk into the hotel.

"Who?" She's totally intent on finding her suspect in the crowd.

"Your secret admirer?"

"Castle, not now, we need to find this guy." She's craning her neck to see above the crowd.

"You can't think of one guy who wants you?" He says sarcastically, "I'll bet it's that neighbor of yours."

"No," she says distractedly, "he's got a girlfriend."

"Who else could it be? A guy at the precinct?"

"What?" she shakes her head lightly, finally turning her attention on him, "Castle, I . . . there was a guy a couple of months ago, works in Vice, but I told him 'no' and he hasn't contacted me since."

"And there's no one else you can think of that's of interest?" He quirks his eyebrows.

She gives him the eye, purses her lips, "of interest to whom?" She's put her hands on her hips.

"Don't I have a right to know?" he cocks his head.

"There's nothing to know Castle."

"Well then, who is he?" he persists, narrowing his eyes at her, "who do you want him to be?"

"You know what? I don't know who he is," she pushes back, "but maybe if I date him, he won't act like a jealous idiot," she marches off while he takes a deep breath.

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"Ms. Iverson," Ryan says to the fluttery receptionist sitting in the hotel lobby seating area, "we need to ask you some questions."

"I just don't know how I can help," she answers as she twists the tissue in her hands.

"We need to know about any women in Dr. Lee's life."

"Dr. Lee?"

Both detectives shake their heads.

"Other women, oh! You think that I . . . no, no, I was in love with Lester Grant, there was nothing kinky going on or anything like that," but before she can finish Esposito interrupts.

"We don't mean you, Ms. Iverson, we want to know the names of any women Dr. Lee might have had a relationship with."

"Oh," she says, taken aback, "Rob Lee was in love with his wife. There is no way he was cheating on her."

"Mrs. Lee believes he was."

"Why on earth would she believe that?" she says, furrowing her brow.

Ryan flips open his notebook and reports, "apparently he was late coming home every Tuesday night."

"Oh," she giggles, "poor Mrs. Lee."

"So you know who he was seeing?"

"Madam Bourgeouis."

Esposito pulls back, raises an eyebrow, "madam?"

Iverson cocks her head, "Madam Bourgeouis is his French tutor."

"And he was having an affair with her?" Both detectives are utterly confused.

"Well hardly, she's like 70 years old," she's amused at the thought, "he was taking lessons to surprise his wife."

Esposito and Ryan exchange glances.

"He was planning to take her to Paris for their anniversary."

oxoxoxoxoxxox

Beckett is examining their murder board when the boys come back.

"Looks like no cheating for the good doctor," Esposito tells her, "he was taking French lessons on Tuesdays, his tutor says he was constantly studying from a book she gave him. Apparently he was making plans to woo his wife with a trip to France."

"Thus making my point about romance in marriage," Castle interrupts, handing her a coffee.

"Yeah, well, his wife wasn't seeing things that way," comes her haughty response as she purposefully sets the coffee on the edge of her desk, not drinking it, and continues.

"We didn't have any luck with Grant either, turns out, he was only looking to add a younger partner so he can retire in a few years, he wasn't planning on selling his half the partnership."

"And now," Ryan says as he moves pictures of Grant and Iverson on the murder board, "we are out of suspects."

"We're missing something. Let's go over this again." She's calculating, pacing. "Lee comes to New York to present at the conference. He's alone in his hotel room when someone gains entry, shoots him with a silencer," she holds her fingers out, enacting the scene, "and then ransacks his room."

"What were they looking for?" Castle interrupts. All three detectives look puzzled, "this whole time we've been looking at what Lee did in his personal life, but what if this has to do with his professional life?"

"Yeah, but what threat is a professional dentist presenting at a conference about a nerve problem?" Ryan says.

"Tomorrow we need to find out more about this presentation," Beckett says, "I don't think we are going to get any further on this tonight."

"Great, I can still make dinner at Jenny's parents."

"Good night," Esposito calls over his shoulder.

Already in her coat, she's straightening the files on her desk as he watches her, "you coming over tonight?" he asks hopefully.

"You know what? I think I need a night on my own."

The giant bouquet of flowers she's holding swipe him in the face as she walks away.