The Haunting – Chapter 5

Spring 1891

Castle returned home buoyed, and in high spirits. His meeting with Kevin Ryan went extremely well. The young constable was intrigued by what Castle had to say and had learned so far. He had agreed that Katherine Beckett's death, in context, seemed suspect. Ryan was the first one to not call his secret obsession foolish or frivolous. He was more than willing to help. Smiling to himself, feeling pleased with how his day was going so far, Castle rushed upstairs, quickly changing out of his day coat and into a nice suit and tie for his afternoon interview with the editors of the New York Times book review.

On Gina's urging, he had sent them some of his short stories last month, and they had now requested a meeting to discuss his work. After arriving at the New York Times Manhattan offices, he soon learned that they wanted to publish his stories. The Chief Editor asked if he could produce a serial that they could print twice a month in the book review section of the paper. Castle was thrilled. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for. One of his all-time favorite novelists, Charles Dickens, had sprung to fame with the 1836 serial publication of The Pickwick Papers. He readily agreed, signing a contract with the Times immediately.

Castle returned home on a natural high, a large beaming smile spread out across his face, the mysterious messages completely forgotten. He spent the rest of the afternoon sitting at his desk in the parlor, outlining the story he wanted to write for the serial publication. He was so focused on his work that he was only vaguely aware of the feeling that he was not really alone. A chilly breeze caressed the back of his neck, making the hairs stand on end. He glanced up, momentarily catching a glimpse of a bluish haze in the doorway. Frowning, he ignored the odd feeling, chalking it up to his imagination and being too absorbed with the story he was in the process of crafting.

Later that evening, he treated himself to a night out at a fancy restaurant and afterwards paid a hefty fee to enjoy the atmosphere of one of New York's most prestigious gentleman's club. It had probably been naïve of him to think otherwise, but he had been surprised when he learned that it was not just men sitting around in leather armchairs smoking cigars and swapping stories. He watched some of the wealthiest and most powerful men of New York slink off behind a velvet curtain with what he would call courtesans.

He was almost tempted when a perky blonde by the name of Jacinda made him an offer, but, even if he was so inclined, Castle had never been one to pay for female companionship. Besides, he had just ended a relationship, and he was not looking for a night of passion, especially one that came with a bill at the end. He politely declined her invitation and watched as she turned her attentions to the tall, dark, and handsome man who was sitting across from him. It had not taken long before Jacinda had Doctor Joshua Davidson following her into the backroom for a private consultation.

When he got home, Castle was still buzzing with the excitement over finally becoming a paid writer. Though having enjoyed his time in the gentleman's club, to a certain extent, he was more than pleased to be back home. He went upstairs, exhausted from his night out. Preparing to retire for the evening, Castle almost forgot about the note on the nightstand. But he caught sight of it as he climbed under his covers. His eyes went wide with shock.

She had replied.

I am still sorry – KB.