FOUR

"Yo Beckett; glad you could make it."

Kate rolled her eyes at her partner Esposito's backhanded insult. "So I'm a few minutes late—sue me. Traffic was a disaster getting here."

"There's a car fire in midtown." The final member of her team, Ryan, informed her. "Traffic is a mess everywhere."

Kate nodded, not having known about the incident previously. Then, turning back to Esposito, she nodded towards the building they stood in front of. "Vic inside?"

"Yep; waiting for you."

The female detective donned a pair of blue latex gloves and followed her coworkers inside. As they made their way to the first floor apartment, Esposito explained that their victim was twenty-three year old Ashley Haynes, a waitress slash struggling actress. She lived with a roommate, who after returning home from a weekend trip to Florida, discovered the gruesome scene and called the authorities.

"You've interviewed the roommate?"

"I took her statement, but she was extremely shaken up, so I had unis take her downtown; we'll talk to her in a bit after she calms down." Ryan explained.

Kate nodded and ducked under the police tape draped across the entryway to 1C. Just inside the door, she sucked in a breath as she took in the grisly scene. The young blonde girl was sprawled out on the floor between a sofa and television stand. Judging from the broken and spilled beer bottle on the floor and the overturned nature of an end table and its accompanying lamp, a struggle had taken place. Kate did not need her medical examiner friend to tell her cause of death; the vicious slash across Ashely's throat and surrounding spatter of blood did that for her.

Both as a rookie and as a detective, Kate had seen many a crime scene. She no longer felt ill or nauseous at the sight of blood or other bodily fluids, but some crimes still made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. This was one of them.

Ashley wore a soft pink sleeveless top. From the way it was bunched around her hips it was hard to tell its original length, but judging by the delicate rose print of the fabric and the eyelet lace around the collar and sleeve edges, Kate presumed the garment to be a nightgown. From the way her body was posed, it was clear Ashely wore no underwear. Kate did not see any in the immediate area which meant one of two things: the girl had simply chosen not to wear panties to bed or they had been taken as a trophy by her attacker.

"Sexual assault?" Kate asked simply to the ME.

Lanie shook her head. "Can't tell without an exam, but it doesn't look good, does it?"

Kate said nothing. She cautiously stepped around the body to observe the scene from a new angle. From that direction, the blood spatter was even more prominent. "The killer would have been sprayed." She concluded, not bothering to make it a question; she had visited enough scenes to know.

"Absolutely—the knife hit the carotid and blood gushed everywhere. No way he or she didn't get it on him—all over, really."

Kate turned to one of the uniforms at the scene and said, "Make sure all dumpsters in the surrounding area are searched." Then, she turned back to Lanie. "Estimated TOD?"

"Sometime Saturday night, I imagine."

"Fits with the witness statement." Ryan chimed in. "Roommate said she got a text from Ashley midafternoon on Saturday, but had not heard from her since."

Kate considered all the information before her and considered their next course of action. "Okay, so that means we're already a day and a half behind this thing, so we need to get moving. Ryan, check with the super about video surveillance. Given the state of this building, I'm not hopeful, so check the area for any other surveillance: ATM's, convenience stores, street cams—anything."

"You got it." The detective nodded before taking his orders and leaving the scene.

The female then turned to the remaining detective in the room. "We've got to canvass this building, see if there are any witnesses."

"We're short on unis right now because of that car fire." He reminded her.

She nodded. "Then we'll have to help." Though it took time she could have dedicated elsewhere, she actually liked canvassing, especially if it found them a useful witness.

Half an hour into their canvassing, Kate was less hopeful. They had spoken to four of the five remaining residents of the first floor, but all of those people either had not been home or claimed to have heard nothing. The fifth resident was one immediately next to Ashley and thus the most likely to be helpful, but no one answered the door, which meant they needed to check again later.

Heading up to the second floor meant their likelihood of finding a witness was even lower, but not impossible. Since Ryan confirmed the apartment building had no security cameras, Kate was willing to interview everyone to find even the smallest of leads. As apartment 2A did not answer their knock, they headed to 2B, where Kate received a most unexpected surprise.

"Kate!" Noticeable surprise crossed Rick's face when he appeared in the open doorway.

Though she generally fought to keep a professional exterior no matter what she saw behind a potential witness's apartment door, she failed at that moment. Her expression fell and she cursed internally; this was definitely not how she expected the day to go. She had taken her latte from the barista bright and early that morning, but it appeared he was done with his shift and now at home. Also, he was a potential witness.

"Hi… We, um, need to ask you some questions. Official police business." She pulled back her blazer to reveal the badge on her hip. Then, she turned to her companion and explained. "My friend Rick feeds my coffee addition; he works at the Starbucks near my place."

Esposito nodded. "Gotcha. Name, sir? And do you live here alone?"

"Rick Castle and no, I live with my mother, Martha."

"Is she at home?"

"No, she's been on tour for three weeks….What's…what's this about?" he asked, his eyes turning immediately to Kate.

The female's skin bristled when Rick mentioned his mother was on tour. Immediately, her mind flashed back to his kidnapping report. On tour with Pippen. Her gut told her this conversation was not going to end well.

Kate cleared her throat and said, "The woman in 1C—Ashley Haynes—did you know her?"

He shook his head and his brow knit. "I'm sorry I don't know the name. I don't think I knew her." For his benefit, Kate held up the photograph of the victim's face on her phone from earlier that morning. "Oh, um, I saw her in the vestibule a few times, I guess. Never said more than hello. What happened to her?"

"She was killed Saturday night. Her throat was slashed," Esposito said clinically.

Rick took a half step back and his eyes began darting back and forth between the two detectives. Kate saw the flash of panic in his eyes and fought to keep from cringing. Yep, this was going to end badly. Just as she was about to step in words exploded from his mouth.

"Jesus. And you…you think that I…just because I…and that-"

"Rick." She tried to calm him, but the damage was already done. Esposito moved his hand towards the weapon on his hip and he stepped forward in a challenge.

"Just because you what?"

"Espo." Kate gently put her hand on his shoulder and, when he looked at her, she shook her head. "Just let me talk to him a minute."

"Beckett."

His voice was warning but she shook him of. "It's okay; I know him." She had one hundred percent confidence that Rick had nothing to do with the horrible crimes that took place in his building. He was a man broken by his past, not inspired by it. Still, they needed to follow protocol.

As Rick had backed his way into his apartment, raking his fingers violently through his hair, Kate followed, though tentatively. "Rick. Rick. Look at me, Rick." She requested a third time before he did so, wide eyed. "It's okay; you're okay. You're not a suspect. We just need to interview everyone in this building. I didn't even know you lived here until you opened the door a minute ago."

Still, the terror boiled in his eyes. "But…she was…"

"It's okay." She continued in her soothing voice. This was not her understanding-the-victim tone, but actually more closely resembled her talking-a-jumper-off-the-ledge tone. She dared not come in contact with him, but did inch ever closer. "I know what you're thinking, but that's not the case. I know, Rick. I know who you are; what happened to you as a child."

A different type of fear spilled into his gaze and his chest began to rise and fall with more rapid intervals. "I…how…how long?"

"Since the 5K. I recognized you, but didn't know why. As soon as you said you were kidnapped I was able to figure it out. I didn't tell anyone, though; not even my partner."

Almost a month had passed since her heart-wrenching discovery and she remained tight-lipped. She had wanted to tell Lanie, especially with the ME's continued teasing about her "barista boyfriend," but out of respect for Rick she couldn't; the secret was not hers and thus she could not be the one to tell it.

When Rick nodded, his mouth still agape, she continued. "I'm sorry, but I do have to tell him now. You understand that, right? Because of how you reacted you made yourself look guilty."

He dropped his chin to his chest and rasped out, "Yeah."

"Now we just have a few more questions and they're perfectly routine. Would you like some water first?"

"N-no…I'm okay. I'm fine." He folded his arms over his chest, sniffed, and then set his shoulders, prepared to accept whatever questions she had to ask him.

Kate gave him a half smile and turned back towards the doorway, beckoning her colleague inside. When Espo stood behind her, she continued. "Where were you Saturday night—say between eight and midnight?"

"Satur…Oh, I was at work."

"Starbucks?"

"No. Bartending. I worked seven to close…got home around three."

She jotted down the information in her notebook along with the rest of the statements she had collected so far. "And did you see anything out of the ordinary at that time?"

"No."

"Okay. That's all we needed. Thanks."

Kate flipped her notebook shut and turned to leave the apartment. Once Esposito was out in the hall, she turned back towards Rick as he wrung his hands together, his chin still connected to his chest. He looked…smaller and she imagined briefly what he must have looked like at eighteen on the day he was rescued; her heart broke for him.

"Rick?" she said softly. He glanced up, tentative. "I'll call you later, okay?" Though he didn't speak, he did manage to jerk his head in a short nod. She smiled, thanked him, and then shut his apartment door gently before continuing on her canvass.

Due to the murder case, Kate was unable to get a chance to properly speak with Rick until a few days after the incident in his apartment. She did call him that evening and saw him the following morning at Starbucks, but it wasn't the same. They needed to have a real conversation about it, and she wanted to, but finding their victim's killer took precedence.

Unfortunately, without any witnesses or quality surveillance footage, the case quickly hit a dead end. Kate hated that. She hated being trapped into a spot with no results; it made her feel like a failure and she hated to fail. Rationally she knew not every case could be solved, but the prospect of not solving this case bit extra hard due to its brutality.

Finally, on Thursday evening after her shift she made time for Rick. She told him she would meet him anywhere he wanted to talk, but he requested she come to his apartment as he felt the most comfortable there; she could not as that she blamed him. When she arrived, he offered her a drink, which she politely refused and instead they stood in silent for a few moments. Not wanting to stare at him, Kate tentatively observed the space and found it tight, but standard for an apartment in that area.

From just inside the hallway door, Kate felt she could see almost everything the apartment had to offer. To her left was an L-shaped kitchen tucked in one corner. Opposite it, a worn wooden table with four mismatched chairs. Directly in front of them was a cramped seating area with a sofa, a green cloth recliner which was threadbare in many spots, and a television set on an oak stand. Stuffed into the corner of the room was a double bed made with white sheets and a maroon blanket. Finally, at the far right of the apartment she saw two closed doors, which she assumed led to a bedroom and bathroom. If she was forced to guess, she imagined Rick took the bed in the apartment's main living area and he allowed his mother the only bedroom. She briefly wondered if they had always lived together, but then pushed the thought from her mind, knowing it was not relevant to their discussion.

"I'm, ah, a little surprised you're here." Rick broke the silence with a quite confession

"Why's that?"

He shrugged and looked away from her as he made his way towards the couch. She took this as an invitation to follow and sat at the end opposite from him. "Just figured once you knew you wouldn't want to be involved."

"And why would that be?" she asked, somewhat rhetorically. He didn't respond. "Rick, listen, I'm sorry it all had to come out the way it did; I promise that was not my intention. I am glad it's out there, though; I felt bad hiding the fact that I knew from you."

He glanced up at her. "Why didn't you say anything?"

She shrugged. "I didn't want to upset you. You told me you were kidnapped and that was more than enough. Figured if you wanted me to know you'd tell me in your own time."

He nodded and gazed down towards his lap where he picked at one thumb nail with his opposite index finger. "But, um, you know…all of it?"

"I read the police report and a few articles, but I highly doubt that's all of it." Since his kidnapper was killed during a struggle with police, the investigating officers had not delved into his case as thoroughly as they would have were they going to prosecute. At that point, he was safe and found and they were probably trying not to traumatize him further, so a superficial level questioning was sufficient.

When Rick said nothing, she continued. "I remembered the case. I was too little when you were taken, but about twelve when they found you. My mother and I talked about it. The case stuck with me over the years, because I remember thinking that if I was put in the same situation as you were, I wasn't sure if I would survive."

He looked up at her, as confident as she had seen him in the prior week. "You would. You would because you have to."

His strong tone made her skin prickle. What he had seen, what he had went through—god, she couldn't fathom it. She was certain she would have had a nervous breakdown if it had been her—and that was as an adult! As a child? She feared she would have been irreparably damaged.

Shaking her head gently she told him, "I'm sorry. That wasn't meant to be an invitation for you to talk about it. You don't have to if you don't want to."

He nodded, skimmed his hand over his jaw and gazed off blankly towards the television. "Thanks. Not now…maybe another time."

Kate said nothing, but nodded. She was more than willing to follow his lead. If he never broached the subject again, she would be okay with that. Well, she certainly would wonder, and the investigator inside her would be displeased, but she would respect his wishes and continue to be his friend.

After a few moments of silence he looked over at her tentatively. "Did you ever find the person who hurt that girl downstairs—Ashley?"

She shook her head. "No, not yet; we're still looking."

He nodded and turned away from her. "I hope you find him."

A/n: thank you all so much for your comments/feedback - i'm so glad to see you're enjoying this twist on Hollander's Woods