Commercial break is finally over...
Act 6
"Got something!"
Beckett turned her attention to the tech room as the Irish detective's voice echoed through the bullpen.
"I went through all the names on Vanderhall's guest list," Ryan stated as the team entered the room. "One name stood out. Hunter Booth."
"Seriously?" Castle remarked as the four of them huddled around the smart board. "The guy has two last names."
Beckett rolled her eyes as Espo glared at the writer for a moment. "Says the guy who changed his to be reminiscent of a chess piece," the Latino quipped.
"Touché," Castle relented.
"What do we know about him?" Beckett inquired.
"Not much," Ryan interjected. "Millionaire. Playboy. Oh… and he also happens to be a collector of rare antiquities."
Beckett's eyes lit up at that little tidbit. "Do we have a photo of this guy?"
Ryan touched a button at the top of the screen, bringing up Booth's DMV photo. "Check it out."
"Is it just me," Castle smirked, "or does that guy look identical to the guy Emma described for the sketch artist?"
Beckett's eyes narrowed, her voice cold. "Pick him up."
The three men silently watched from Observation as Beckett entered the Interrogation room. Esposito crossed his arms as Ryan reached over to turn up the volume of the speaker.
Wordlessly, Beckett sat down in the chair across from her suspect, assessing the expression on Booth's face. It wasn't confusion, but neither was it smug. 'He's got a great poker face, I'll give him that,' Castle thought to himself.
Slowly opening the folder that sat on the table in front of her, Beckett's eyes locked with those of the suspect as she gingerly picked up her pen.
"You've had a very interesting life, Mr. Booth," she began, her voice stern, unrelenting. "Exploration of deep caves in the Yucatan... Expeditions to ancient ruins in Greece, India, and Egypt… Crusades through the dense jungles of Africa and South America… Even deep-sea hunting for sunken ships."
"What can I say?" Booth grinned. "Indiana Jones would be proud."
"Too bad he's a fictional character," she retorted.
"Yeah… too bad," he smirked.
"You know something Indiana Jones wouldn't be proud of?" She smiled. "Murder."
Castle smiled as he observed his fiancée back her suspect into the proverbial corner. "Try and get out of this one, buddy," he muttered, the boys grinning as they nodded their heads.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Booth remarked off-handedly.
"You sure about that?" Beckett noted. "Because I'm pretty sure Jack Armstrong would disagree with you."
"Who?" Booth asked innocently.
Beckett slapped a crime scene photo of the victim down on the table in front of Booth.
"I've never seen this guy before," he insisted, pushing the photo away from him.
"Really?" Beckett stated, dropping the sketch of Booth down beside the crime scene photo. "Cuz his girlfriend clearly remembers you meeting with my victim a few months ago." She slid the photos towards him, her eyes cold. "You wanna try again?"
"Okay, so I met the guy once. Big deal."
"The deal, Mr. Booth, is that you were at Emerson Vanderhall's 60th birthday party two weeks ago."
"So what," Booth replied smugly.
"So was Mr. Armstrong - he was one of the waiting staff. Several guests at the party clearly recall the two of you having a rather, let's call it - heated - discussion out on the patio mid-evening."
Booth stared at the detective, wide-eyed and quiet. A satisfied grin formed on Castle's face as he watched events unfold from behind the 2-way mirror.
"But that wasn't the only thing the guests remembered. Apparently your attire for the affair was also quite memorable, Mr. Booth." Beckett noted as she looked at the notes in her folder. "White suit, silver shoes…" she paused, "...and a red belt."
Booth's eyes widened.
"Did you know that Mr. Armstrong here was strangled?" Beckett inquired, eyes boring into Booth's. "We found some red fibers on him. What do you think we'll discover when we match those fibers to the ones on your belt?"
Booth's mouth opened slightly, but no words escaped.
"And then there's this," Beckett stately bluntly as she dropped an evidence bag on the table. An evidence bag containing a key.
She noted how Booth's eyes betrayed him, revealing alarm and trepidation, as he stared at the key.
"It's a key we found hidden in Armstrong's bathroom. A key to a storage bay of The Metropolitan Museum of Art. The storage bay that recently housed a statue of a Grotesque. A Grotesque that is currently missing its emerald eyes. Emeralds we happened to find hidden in Armstrong's apartment." Beckett slapped another picture on the table as she stood up, leaning on the table, face uncompromising, eyes piercing. "Tell me, Mr. Booth… Did you decide to kill Armstrong because he was unsatisfied with $2600 worth of gold coins as payment for the theft… or were you always planning to get rid of him anyway?"
Booth swallowed sharply, lifting his eyes from the photo array on the table to meet Beckett's stern glare. "I want my lawyer."
Beckett's eyes narrowed as they bore into his. "Of course you do."
Ryan and Esposito were clearing off the murder board when Gates approached. "So, Detective, did we get a confession?"
"Not exactly, Sir," Beckett replied, looking up from her computer monitor. "Booth isn't talking without a lawyer, but all the evidence is overwhelming. Uniforms found the belt after a thorough search of his house. The lab confirmed that the fibers found on the victim and those of the belt were a match. It was definitely the murder weapon."
"Well done, detective."
The boys made a show of clearing their throats and coughing in a very unsubtle manner.
"Detective..sss," she smirked, shaking her head.
Castle, sitting in his chair, turned his head to look at the Captain, a small but hopeful smile on his lips.
Gates glanced at him for a brief moment, expressionless, before pivoting to return to her office. "I'll inform the Commissioner that we have our man."
Watching Gates close the door behind her, Beckett turned to meet Castle's solemn face.
"She is always going to see me as an annoyance, isn't she?" he sighed.
"Probably," Beckett shrugged.
"Don't let it get to you, Bro," Esposito smirked playfully as he placed a photo in the evidence box. "I've always thought you're annoying."
"Just for that, I'm leaving my Ferrari to Ryan when I die," Castle retorted, as he held out his fingertips for Ryan to feed. Ryan missed his cue, a confused look on his face, as Beckett rolled her eyes, returning her attention to her report.
"God, that feels good," Beckett moaned.
Castle dug his thumbs into her upper back, working out the knot in her shoulder.
"I just figured that, after this case, you'd want to relax a bit," Castle smiled as he used his knuckles to put some pressure on her vertebrae.
A low groan eked from Beckett as she melted at Castle's every touch. "Wine and back rub while curled up on the couch? Yeahhhhh…" she mumbled as he rubbed her shoulders, "No complaints here."
Castle felt his fiancée go completely lax as he massaged her neck, her head canting back, coming to rest on his shoulder. As her eyelids drooped, he reached forward, removing the glass of wine from her loose grip before she dropped it.
Placing the glass on the table behind the couch, he continued his ministrations along her shoulders and neck, leaning in to kiss the side of her jaw line as his fingers worked their magic. His thumbs kneaded small circles along her spine as his fingertips dance their way along her back muscles, both relaxing her and setting her ablaze.
As his palms and thumbs pressed into her back, sliding towards her underarms, Kate's released a soft grunt.
She felt his hands hesitate as they lifted slightly. "Did I hurt you?"
"Mmmmmm…" she moaned happily. "Not at all."
She turned her head up to face him as she leaned her back into his chest. Her lips met his, tender and passionate and aroused, as their mouths danced together in a well-rehearsed tango. He felt her torso melt against his as she lifted a hand to caress the side of his face. Reaching around, his fingers slowly feathered along the side of her jaw as he gently pulled her upper lip into his mouth. His lips then traveled along her cheek towards her neck. She canted her head to the side to allow him better access as he ghosted his lips across her soft flesh.
"So much tension…" he muttered between kisses. "All bottled up…"
"Mmmmmm…" she mumbled. "Yeah…"
He continued to paint kisses along her shoulder as one hand snaked itself underneath her shirt, the palm smoothing along the lines of her tight abs.
"All bottled up…" she repeated again in a half-stupor as his fingers inched their way up her supple skin towards her chest.
Suddenly, her eyes shot open. "All bottled up!" she declared as she sat up, turning her body to face his.
Castle shook his head, completely lost. "What?" he squeaked out as he attempted to regulate his heavy breathing.
"The bottle," she repeated insistently.
Castle still wasn't following. "What bottle?"
"The rum bottle," Kate clarified. "That's what was probably used to beat Armstrong!"
"Oh-kay…" Castle nodded.
"So where is it?" she queried. "It wasn't at the victim's apartment."
Beckett grabbed her phone from the coffee table.
"Ryan? I want you and Espo to hit up Booth's place. Yeah… right now. Yeah. You're looking for a rum bottle."
She smirked slightly as she ended the call, tossing the phone back on the table.
"That's what he gets for interrupting us the other night," she smiled as she wrapped her arms around her fiancé's neck.
"Karma's a bitch," Castle muttered seductively as his mouth collided with hers.
"So... did you find anything?" Beckett asked as hung her coat on the back of her chair.
Espo looked up from his desk and shook his head. "Nothing."
She was taken aback slightly with disbelief. "What?"
"Dunno what to tell you, Beckett," the Latino shrugged. "Maybe he ditched the bottle."
"Besides, we got the belt," Ryan added. "We don't really need the weapon he used to beat Armstrong."
"Yeah," Beckett sighed, "you're right. But I would have liked to have found it."
"Huh..." Castle muttered to himself as he glanced at his phone.
Beckett looked over at her partner. "What?"
"Looks like my book agent also happened to be invited to Vanderhall's birthday party… Paula just posted pictures on her Facebook page. Look at this," he turned the phone to show her the screen.
"Okay, there's Paula beside Vanderhall," Beckett noted. "Who's the other woman in the photo?"
"The tag indicates that it's Vanderhall's wife, Linda… But that's not what is interesting. Take a look behind her," he pointed.
Beckett smiled. "That's a rum bottle."
"But Vanderhall had an alibi for the night of the murder, remember," Ryan remarked.
"True," Castle agreed. "But what about his wife?"
"Dig up everything you can on Linda Vanderhall," Beckett declared as the boys booted up their computers.
Later that afternoon, the entire team watched as L.T. escorted Linda Vanderhall out of the Interrogation room in cuffs, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Vanderhall's wife?" Gates inquired.
"Yeah," Espo nodded. "Apparently she and Hunter Booth had been having an affair for the past year. They bonded over a love of artifacts and antiquities. Mrs. Vanderhall was also quite the collector."
"She's on the Metropolitan Museum Board of Trustees," Beckett added, arms crossed as she watched Linda Vanderhall march past them towards Holding. "When she found out about that French Collection that was going to be displayed as a temporary exhibit, the temptation of having those identical emeralds for her own private collection was too tempting."
"So she convinced her lover to find some way to steal them. Booth found Armstrong through a job search website. Mrs. Vanderhall used her influence to get Armstrong a position with museum security," Castle continued. "He removed the emeralds from the statue while the collection was still in temporary storage, so nobody noticed that they were even missing until the items were unpacked several weeks later to get ready to be displayed for the temporary exhibition."
"However, when Armstrong discovered the how much the jewels were worth, he wanted more money," Ryan noted. "He hid the emeralds and the key in his apartment for weeks."
"So when Mrs. Vanderhall learned that Armstrong's girlfriend would be at the same business dinner as her husband, she and Booth agreed that that would be the best time to strike," Castle remarked.
Gates turned to glare at Castle.
Realizing what he'd said, the writer quickly held up his hands in defense. "No pun intended."
"Apparently she'd brought the rum from home," Espo stated. "They just planned to get Armstrong drunk thinking that he'd tell them where the emeralds were hidden."
"But when he didn't crack, she got impatient and started to beat him with the bottle. When that didn't work, they tried torturing him by strangling him with Booth's belt. According to Mrs. Vanderhall, they didn't intend to kill Armstrong - but when they realized they had, they dumped him in the bathtub and ran, hoping it would look like he drowned himself accidentally."
Gates nodded, but was still confused by one detail. "But why were the gold coins shoved up his…" She halted before finishing the sentence.
"His booty?" Castle continued with a grin.
"Yes, Mr. Castle. His… booty," the Captain stated flatly as Esposito worked diligently to school his features lest he allow a smirk to escape.
"Booth and Mrs. Vanderhall claim they didn't do that," Ryan explained, drawing Gates' attention away from his partner. "Our best guess is that he didn't have time to hide them before the two arrived, and thinking that they might've wanted the gold coins back, he panicked and shoved them some place he didn't think they'd look."
"So a man is dead because two rich socialites just wanted more pretty rocks to add to their already abundant collection of jewels," Gates remarked shaking her head in disbelief. "Well…" the Captain mumbled as the detectives turned to look at her. She nodded slightly as she turned to head towards her office. "Good job."
"Well," Ryan nodded, "I'm off."
"Jenny?" Espo smirked.
"Yeah," his partner sighed heavily. "She texted about half an hour ago. Has cravings for pickles and peanut butter. Heaven help me if I don't get those to her within the next hour."
"You read anything in Psychology Today about pregnancy cravings?" the Latino teased.
"That they lead to better sex," Ryan scoffed playfully as he grabbed his coat and headed towards the stairs.
Espo released a laugh as he turned towards Beckett and Castle. "Well, have a good night you guys. Don't anything I wouldn't do," he winked, walking away.
"Oh so many possibilities then," Castle called after him as the couple made their way to the elevator. "I hardly know where to start!"
"Oh, I have a few ideas, Castle," Beckett grinned seductively.
The writer turned to face her as they stepped into the empty elevator.
"And they definitely involve some booty," she smiled as she squeezed his ass.
"Yo-ho-ho…" he whispered flirtatiously, his eyes locked on hers, as the elevator doors closed.
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That's it. That's all.
Big hugs to anyone who went on this ride with me.
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Things I learned while writing this fic:
- Saccharum is both sugar cane and Jamaican rum
- Pirate puns are awesome!
- 5-carat emeralds are worth a lot more than I anticipated.
- All Gargoyles are Grotesques... but not all Grotesques are Gargoyles :)
- Balancing a case with banter with romance with bromance with sass… not an easy task
- Writing a case is really challenging! (I humbly bow at the feet of the Castle writers)
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To the Guest who reviewed that I should apply to write for the show, that was one of the kindest and most flattering things anyone has said to me. Thank you. (But I'm completely comfortable being a ... ... ...) :)
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To my Twitter followers for shaking those pom-poms, you're awesome.
I've never had 100 reviews for a fic before... just realized how close I am. Huge thanks to anyone who reviewed. Your support and feedback has meant a lot to me - as you know. :D
RL is getting a bit crazy for me right now...
And because we didn't get the Triple-Crown at last's year's People's Choice Awards, I'll be focusing my attention on voting like crazy for the next few months...
So a few one-shots might materialize, but probably not much until the voting closes.
And as always...
There you go... Judge away. :D