Disclaimer: I am from a land-locked area, I know nothing of boats, please excuse any minor mistakes. If I made any huge mistakes then a polite correction would be appreciated.
ACT THREE
"You seriously didn't make him do the Truffle Shuffle?" the writer was just about to take his customary seat at his partner's desk when her words gave him pause.
She shrugged, continuing to type, "Hey, he had it coming."
"Why, Detective Beckett," Castle grinned as he sat, "childish pranks from cult classics while at the police academy no less. I may have to think of you in a different light."
"And what light would that be?" Beckett said with disinterest.
"Mauve… or maybe a burnt yellow," he eyed her carefully, then a thought occurred to him, "but wait, wouldn't making a guy pull his shirt up and jiggle around at the police academy constitute sexual harassment?"
"Maybe," she refused to meet his gaze, "but I've a known a few men to take their shirts off and jiggle around… and it definitely wasn't harassment."
There was a moment between them were she held her composure but he could see her fighting it, her head not moving but her eyes darting over to catch his reaction. It was these times he wasn't sure if she was serious or just had a wicked sense of humor, or both. So many layers to his muse, he was afraid he could keep peeling them back for a lifetime and never get to the core.
"Well," Esposito and his partner walked up, "that was a bust."
"Nothing at Dobins apartment?" Beckett replied.
"No information on the Irving," the man sighed, "no trace of the victim's laptop, or any evidence of a blunderbuss."
"Musketoon," Ryan corrected.
"Seriously?" Esposito was exasperated, "You're going to keep going on about that?"
"How'd the bathroom look?" Beckett interrupted them.
"Toothbrush, razor, no signs of packing," the man's attention turned back to her, "and no signs that he'd been there since he went to work."
"No mad dash to make a get away," Castle thought outloud, "so either he found the gold and is trying to make his way to a non-extradite country and didn't have time to pack or maybe he doesn't realize we're on to him and maybe he'll be back."
Ryan nodded, "We put a uniform on the apartment, in case he does."
"And the BOLO in case he doesn't," Beckett added.
""""
"I played a pirate once," Martha was pouring a drink as Castle sat on the sofa, legs propped up, feet resting on the coffee table and a laptop at his fingertips.
"I don't remember that," he commented, honestly not being able to recall.
"Oh, well," he swanned over with her glass of wine, leaning against the back of the sofa, "it was a bar maid actually, it was an off-off Broadway production by the next Gilbert and Sullivan… or at least he liked to think so."
He wracked his memory, "Still got nothing."
"You know, you remember," she prompted him, "I was the pirate captain's love interest who was deathly afraid of water?"
Castle just shook his head.
"Well, that's a shame," her shoulders slumped in dismay, "for all it was lacking it had some of the best costumes, had this corset that was ten times more effective than a wonder bra I tell you."
As his mother began to explain exactly how that could be possible, the writer threw up his hands to stop her, "You know, I think I'm remembering why I forgot."
He was saved any further embarrassment thanks to his daughter bounding down the stairs.
"I found it," Alexis shouted excitedly.
"That's great," he replied with equal fervor, then took a breath, "what did you find?"
"My copy of Muppet's Treasure Island," she held up the dvd case proudly. "I haven't watched it in ages."
"Arr, me-hearty" he folded his laptop, "you set it up and I'll get the popcorn."
She nodded and headed towards the DVD player while Castle made for the kitchen.
"Alexis, honey," Martha moved to take her son's seat on the sofa, "did I tell you I once played a pirate?"
"No, grandma," she answered as she punched buttons on the system.
"Ah, ah, ah," Castle leaned out over the kitchen island, "I declare no more speak of pirates unless they are of the Muppet kind."
"Dad," Alexis held up the DVD, the silvery surface covered in deep scratches, "now I remember why I stopped watching it."
""""
"Alright, thank you," Beckett was hanging up the phone when Castle sat down in the chair next to the desk, a plastic bag from an electronics store in his hand.
"I know, I'm late," he quickly said, "but I have really good excuse."
She didn't seem convinced, "And that would be?"
"I went shopping," Castle held up the bag.
"You're right, that is a really good excuse," the woman deadpanned, "if you were a fifteen year old girl."
"I'm going to ignore that slight on my manhood and I'll have you know that this," he pulled out the Muppet's movie, "is one of Alexis' childhood favorites. But we discovered our copy was severely damaged and in need of replacing."
This got the other two detective's attention, Esposito asking the obvious, "Why didn't you just get it 'on demand'."
"Are you kidding?" the writer laughed, "The amount of times she's going to watch it, trust me, this option is cheaper."
"What else you got in there?" Ryan was the one to ask, eyeing the bag.
"Oh," he started to pull out a stack of four DVD's, "there was a sale, I just couldn't help myself."
Beckett grinned, "Not a fifteen year old girl, huh?"
"Hey, The Princess and the Pirate" Ryan blurted out with his somewhat dopey grin, "love that film."
"It's for my mother," Castle wanted to make everyone sure they knew that.
"Ice Pirates," Beckett snatched the next dvd from his hand, "now that brings back memories."
"You'll have to tell me," was his response, "and in lurid detail."
"In your dreams, Castle," she continued to peruse the back cover.
"I'm sure," he grinned, but then held up the next dvd, "who can forget Time Bandits?"
"Does that count as a pirate movie?" Esposito asked.
This made Castle pause for a second, "It has a pirate ship on the cover, let's move on. Now, the pièce de résistance: The Princess Bride."
"Now that is a pirate movie," the man agreed, slipping into an accent. " 'Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.' "
" 'You seem like a decent fellow,' " Ryan added, " 'I hate to kill you.' "
" 'You seem like a decent fellow,' " Castle countered, " 'I hate to die.' "
They began to chuckle and Beckett looked between the three men like they all belonged in a loony bin. "I'm guessing I'm missing a joke here?"
"Wait," the writer's jaw literally dropped, "Kate Beckett has seen the Goonies and Ice Pirates but she has never seen the greatest love story of all time? Inconceivable!"
"I've seen Titanic," she replied, "that had a ship on the cover."
"But… it's… The Princess Bride," he was at a total loss of words to describe the epic nature of the film, "I mean even guys, straight guys, love this film."
"You know," she said slowly, "I think one of my girl friends might have a copy in high school, just never found the time."
"Here," he put the dvd in her hands, "I insist. Watch it."
"I will," Beckett put it down on almost the farthest reaches of her desk, "but first we have to meet Sophia Ketter."
"Meet her for what?" he asked while looking a little dismayed at her apparent lack of regard for the film.
"To let us onto her grandfather's boat," the woman stood, grabbing her jacket, "it's been on a local dock since the accident and Gwen Ketter authorized us to search it. Thought we might find some evidence there regarding the case seeing as Dobins never returned home and he hasn't been located and we're out of other leads."
"Good thinking," Castle agreed, standing to join her.
"Now," she held her hand up to stop him, "we're going to be on a boat, you're going to be tempted, but please, please refrain from the pirate commentary."
A grin formed on the man's face. "As you wish."
""""
"Well, found trace of the blunderbuss," Beckett emerged from the cabin of Ketter's boat, "some residue of rusted nails and what looks like black pow-what are you doing?"
Castle knew he was caught and stepped down from the very front of the ship where he was standing up on the rails.
"Are you trying to reenact Titanic?" she asked.
"What, me, no?" he laughed her off, then boyishly said, "Just… forecastle, Richard Castle… okay, maybe you had to been there."
"I probably shouldn't have said anything," Sophia Ketter admitted from her perch on top of the cabin.
"I don't even want to know," Beckett shook her head. "Like I said, I think Ketter stored the blunderbuss here on the boat."
"So Peritti or Dobins had access to it," Castle continued the thought.
The detective nodded then turned to the young woman, "How did the boat get here from Cape Cod?"
"It's a sloop, not a boat," she corrected them, "I sailed her up here, docked her, been keeping the maintenance."
"Sailed all by yourself?" the writer replied with a tint of respect.
"No, I think my grandfather was with me," a ghost of a smile touched her lips, "we did a lot of sailing when I was younger, he told me his stories and crazy theories. I wish I could have been there that day."
"Where you supposed to be?" Beckett asked.
"No," she bowed her head, "I just started at Mount Holyoke. I told him I'd try to come down more, but he said he found a new sailing partner and not to worry about it. School was more important."
"Did you see the blunderbuss?" the detective asked softly.
"I don't really spend much time down there," Sophia confessed.
Castle spoke up, "Who else has had access?"
"There was a memorial we had here after the funeral," she shook her head in thought, "my dad, grandma and me have keys to the boat. We also have the access code to the dock gate, but then people are always propping it open or not shutting it properly."
"We'll need to know who was at the memorial," Beckett replied, "see if anyone remembers seeing it."
"I don't recall who was there," Sophia admitted, "but I'm sure my grandmother has a list somewhere. I'll make sure you get it."
"Thank you," the detective glanced around the ship, turning to Castle. "Well, I think we should go before Castle starts to reenact more scenes from Titanic."
"I was not!"
""""
"That's annoying," Beckett had hung up her phone as Castle approached with coffee.
"What is?" he was about to take his seat but she stood, snatching a cup and moving over to the murder board.
"The dock only has the last two days worth of surveillance," she answered as she sipped the drink.
"So if anyone stole the blunderbuss recently," he felt her pain, "we wouldn't have it on tape."
"Yep," the detective picked up a stack of stapled papers from her desk, handing them over to her partner without looking. "And that is just as annoying."
He glanced over it. "Transcript?"
"Dobins covered a fellow teach as guest lecturer at a conference at last minute, he had to satellite uplink through the school's computers," she covered the highlights. "It was at eleven am the morning Peritti was killed."
"Peritti was killed before seven," Castle couldn't understand the problem.
"Eleven am… Greek Time," she corrected, "The American School of Classical Studies at Athens."
"Long name," he frowned, "but Greece is what, seven hours ahead? That still gives him a small window of opportunity."
"I know," it was her turn to frown, still staring at the murder board, the timeline, victim and suspect information scrawled across it, "but something is bothering me about it."
A smile crept up onto his face, "Your gut's turn to have a feeling?"
"Something like that," she leaned back against the desk. "We have three dead men, Ketter, Peritti and Pendlecote. Two murders, one accident."
"Are we even still sure it was an accident?" Castle threw into the mix.
"Likely," she said after a moment, "after all, the only reason to kill Ketter would be to get the supposed gold and if they did have the gold, or its location, why spend a year researching it."
"Point taken."
"We're missing something here," she leaned a bit closer to the board, "I'm just not seeing what it is."
Castle moved beside her, also resting against the desk, "You know what we have in common with those movies I brought earlier?"
"Other than an egocentric male lead?" the reply came quickly and easily from her.
"You forgot ruggedly handsome," he corrected her.
"Ah, yeah, sure," she didn't sound convenience.
"Like our dashing do-gooder's," the writer pressed on, "we always succeed and win the day."
Beckett immediately added, "And win the heart of the beautiful damsel who apparently can't save her own hide and needs the man to do it for her."
"Do I denote a touch of cynicism, Detective Beckett," he grinned at the look she was giving him, "I thought you were a romantic at heart."
She smiled sardonically, "I have my moments."
"Well, in the nature of goodwill in the battle of the sexes," he didn't let her phase him, "you can save my hide any day of the week."
"I already do, all the time," she smiled, really smiled at him but then her phone went off.
"Oh, yeah," he felt a little dejected at that realization.
"Beckett," she called into her phone, ignoring him. "Yes, I put out the BOLO on Cecil Dobins. Yeah, uh huh. Okay, be right there. Thank you."
"Located Dobins, maybe now we can get some answers," Castle was pleased.
Beckett frowned, "Maybe not."
""""
"I ain't going in there," Lanie stood with them at the edge of the pier, "this is a two hundred dollar hair cut thank you very much."
"The divers will bring up the body," Beckett sighed as they stared down at coast guard divers untangling Professor Dobin's from netting that had caught him on the very end of the fishing pier, keeping the bloating figure from washing out into the middle of Long Island Sound.
As they watched their attention shifted to only a few feet away where someone had taken a flat wooden plank and jammed it in-between the pier floor planks and cross struts.
Beckett's gaze turned back to her partner.
"What?" he asked innocently.
"Go ahead," she gestured toward the object, "say it, get it out of your system."
He thought at about this for a moment, "Nah, too easy."
