Chapter 2: We're Supposed to Believe That Happened?

A/N: Time to end the angst and start the fun.

Published: 16 Jan 2012

Chapter 2 – We're Supposed to Believe That Happened?

"I don't think he did it. It's too easy," Castle asserted as he plopped down into his chair next to Beckett's desk. He set a coffee in front of her, which she greedily took.

After a sip, Beckett resumed writing at her notepad and replied, "Castle, it has to be him. We found him dressed in black tactical gear, standing over the body, breaking into a safe, with a gun at his side."

"But I—"

"Just because I found you over a dead body twice when you didn't do it, doesn't mean this guy is innocent."

Beckett still refused to look in Castle's direction. She wasn't mad at him. No. She refused to look for an entirely different reason. Lately, Kate could barely withstand Rick's 'ruggedly handsome' look without smiling like a love-sick idiot. But after seeing him dressed up last night, and how that non-date almost got out of control, there was only so much she could take.

"But it wasn't the right kind of gun."

Unfortunately, he had a point. The gun on the bed was for some kind of tranquillizer dart. The vic was shot with a 9 mil. That weapon had not been found.

"We think he had an accomplice," Beckett countered, finally looking in his direction.

Castle hair was slightly mussed, making him look like he just rolled out of bed. He probably did as it was not yet 7 AM, early for him, especially on a Saturday. He was wearing a casual, purple button-down and jeans. His shirt was untucked as he has been wearing them recently in a weak effort to hide his thickening midsection. Beckett didn't care he had put on some weight over the past year. It made him more huggable.

I really should be thinking like that at the precinct. Or anywhere else.

And she hoped he didn't just notice her checking him out.

"I still think he didn't do it. The maid didn't see him."

"So what then? He dropped in from the ceiling to rob the victim at exactly the wrong time?"

Castle shrugged, "Why not? Do we have an ID on the victim?"

Beckett pointed to the murder board across the bullpen by Ryan and Esposito's desks, as she took another sip of her coffee. Before she could get up to walk over there, Castle was behind her chair, rolling it out from the desk. Beckett surged forward to balance herself, thankful her drink had a lid.

"Castle!"

"Feet up!" he replied as he rotated the chair ninety degrees.

Beckett adjusted herself to the back of the seat, and when her feet were slightly raised for an instant, Castle started pushing her around the desk and toward the murder board. Kate grasped the left arm of her chair for dear life while balancing the drink in her right hand. Castle ignored her second cry of protest, so she just held on. At their destination, Castle brought her to an abrupt stop, causing her feet to drop forward as brakes.

"I am perfectly capable of walking, Castle."

"I know, but this was more fun. You should thank me for not making racing car sounds."

"And you should thank me for not shooting you. There aren't any witnesses around this early."

"Nah, you wouldn't shoot the driver. It might've caused an accident. So what do we have?"

Beckett sighed before reviewing the murder board. The timeline was short at one end because they were on the scene so quickly. They still needed the facts leading up to the murder, and those facts were scarce.

"The victim had no ID, but the room was registered under the name 'Merle Robbins' using a credit card issued by Sberbank Rossii."

"He didn't look Russian or like a Merle."

"No, he didn't," Beckett agreed. 'Merle' did not fit the black man. "He might not be the person that registered the room."

"Or it could be a fake ID."

The only hit for Merle Robbins was the inventor of UNO. She wasn't going to tell Castle that though. She didn't need to hear any card game theories. Beckett simply nodded and continued, "The suspect gave the name Charles Carmichael, but did not provide any more information." The picture under the suspect heading was a new mug shot of the man from last night. He had a toothy grin, unusual for a murder suspect. "There are over a hundred people in the US with that name in the DMV database, but none of them match his height or approximate age."

"Another alias. Hmm. Something about him seems familiar."

Beckett tilted her head to the side and closed her eyes. Castle was standing behind her rubbing her shoulders while they were reviewing the details. Tilting her head to the right gave Castle access and tacit permission to move towards her neck. It felt so good. She had a crick in her neck from crashing in the break room last night.

Wait.

"Castle." Beckett righted her head, trapping his left hand underneath her hair.

"Hmm?"

She leaned forward and rotated to look at her partner, partially pulling free of his magic fingers. "Maybe you should sit in your own chair."

"What?" Realization crossed his face. He hadn't realized what he was doing either. "You're right." He bounced over to a nearby desk and pulled another wheeled chair to a couple feet past the far end of the murder board. He sat dramatically and looked like he was sulking.

Beckett shot him a 'you're being ridiculous' look. "Get over here."

He pushed off and the chair went sliding across the floor, lightly banging into Beckett's. She tightened her lips into an angry frown, but her eyes were still smiling. She used both arms to firmly position Castle's chair to an arm's length away. Close, but a safe distance. "What's gotten into you this morning?"

"Alexis told me a few weeks ago not to grow up too fast. I'm following her instructions." Castle gave her one of his charming smiles that always made her insides do a flip.

Beckett chuckled. "A little more decorum would be appreciated. Gates will be coming in soon."

Castle straightened in his chair and put his hands in his lap like a good boy. A couple officers from the weekend day shift were starting to arrive, and Ryan called twenty minutes ago saying he was coming back from the hotel with a witness.

"Just how many coffees have you had since you woke?" she asked.

Castle thought for a couple seconds with a single finger across his lips. "Five. No, Six."

"Six! How long have you been up?"

"Oh, twenty-four, twenty-five hours."

"You didn't sleep?"

"Too wired. You managed to sleep?"

"I got a couple hours in the break room. I wanted to get most of my paperwork done so I could enjoy the rest of the weekend. You left here around 11. Why didn't you sleep?"

"I was writing."

"Let me guess. Nikki and Rook go out on a date at a hotel restaurant where there is a murder."

"We were on a date?"

Oops. "No. I was talking about our fictional counterparts, not us."

Castle smiled. "I did write about last night, but that was for my witness statement. It's in your inbox."

"At least you did your paperwork for a change."

"Last night's murder didn't fit in the current outline for the next book anyway. But it did get the creative juices flowing. Let's just say they had a 'Nookki' filled evening."

He spent the night fantasizing about us. I will not blush. I will not blush. Quick. Back to the case. "You know your witness statements are always too verbose. That's why you should use the forms. They have a limited amount of space."

"I will not let small minded forms limit my talent. Anyway, that's what paper clips are for. The colored ones are good for bracelets, too." Sensing her waning patience, he looked back at the board and asked, "Why does it say 'No Videos'?"

"Security cameras were disabled for a one hour window around the murder. They were re-enabled before we got a look at them, so someone turned them back on."

"The co-conspirator?" Castle asked.

"That's the theory."

"Do we know anything about him?"

Beckett pointed at the big question mark labeled with '2nd Man'. "The canvas of the hotel staff revealed our suspect and a second man, shorter with a beard. He and our suspect arrived during the blackout window, posing as heating and ventilation men—"

"—but our guy didn't have a maintenance uniform—"

"—and we didn't find one. We think—" Beckett continued.

"—the other guy took it." Castle finished.

"The witness is coming in this morning to talk to a sketch artist," Beckett said.

Castle leaned back in contemplation. "You said they arrived during the blackout window. How is that possible?"

"They probably rewound and erased it. The tech guys will look at it, but that probably won't be until Monday." Last night, the uniforms did a great job helping with the canvas to ensure they caught the hotel staff while they were still on shift. However, some things still had to wait.

"Or maybe… Carmichael was telling the truth and the real killer disabled surveillance."

"Or maybe there is a third conspirator," Beckett suggested.

"Nah. He didn't do it."

Oh, no. This is going to be one of those cases. She hoped he wasn't going to be right this time. That would mean this case would take all weekend.

"So what's next?" Castle asked.

"I've completed the paperwork for filing charges. He's being taken for arraignment in a couple hours. So far he's waiving right to counsel, so I thought we'd take a shot at him before he gets his court appointed attorney. Esposito's bringing him up."

"You called the guys in?"

"Esposito was arguing with Lanie last night when she got the call. I didn't think we needed them, but he called Ryan. They've been here since 6, I think mainly because of their curiosity. Expect some ribbing about picking up a body while on a date."

"It's not the first time."

"It wasn't a date. And what other time are you talking about?"

"That weird cover band… last spring…"

"Oh, I had forgotten all about that. That was in the middle of that..."

"…that thing we're not supposed to talk about."

"How did you remember those morons in the middle of everything else?"

"It ended a memorable afternoon. We need to stop doing that."

Beckett wrinkled her brow. "Doing what?"

"Finding dead people when we are having a great time together."

"Ok. Next time."

Castle raised his eyebrows and smiled. That's when Kate realized she hadn't corrected him about having a great time together. Or about it being a date. But it wasn't one. Not really. Especially if she kept telling herself that.

After a few more minutes reviewing the murder board, Castle received a call from his daughter. She was just checking in before she headed out for the day. Alexis was such a good kid.

The interruption gave Beckett the chance to escape back to the safety of her desk. She resumed outlining her interrogation plan. Castle joined her after his call and made himself look busy while they both waited for Carmichael to be brought in from lock-up.

A little while later, Captain Gates aggressively walked through the bullpen. Not even bothering to stop and exchange pleasantries, she barked, "Beckett, my office!" as she passed.

Castle started to stand to join her, but Beckett halted him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. He was being a good partner offering to join her, but Gates didn't ask for him. Beckett would do this alone. He nodded in agreement to their silent exchange. She knew he'd be there for her when she returned.

She knocked on the captain's door and was greeted with a harsh, "Enter!" She silently stood in front of Gates's desk, waiting for whatever she was so bent out of joint about.

Gates took her time getting settled, unsuccessfully trying to unnerve Beckett. After a minute the captain sat and looked up with her normal cold stare. "I heard you and your friend decided to get in the middle of an investigation during your date last night."

"First, sir, it was not a date. We were at a restaurant opening of an old high school friend of mine who used to date Castle." Not completely true. Maddie and Castle only went to half a dinner together. But that would stop one problem at the pass. "Officers Jacobs and Winston were having trouble with hotel management. My friend helped me take control of the situation."

"Oh, so we're going to have another one of your friends asking to consult on this case."

"No, sir. Maddie just opened the door by calming the manager. She knows to stay out of the way now. However she offered her assistance with the staff if we run into problems, and she did come by with the muffin basket for the precinct."

Gates put down the muffin she had just bit into and swallowed slowly. Point to Beckett.

"Good. Make sure you get a quick confession and get the suspect arraigned as soon as possible. The victim is a foreign national. We want to have the suspect at Rikers before the Feds try to pull jurisdiction."

That's what this was about. This was a power play—something to make Gates look good. Who cares about justice? Part of Beckett was hoping Castle was right and Charles Carmichael was innocent of the murder. He'd still go down for the B&E regardless. She didn't reveal this secret wish and just said, "Yes, sir," as she nodded and left.

Back in the bullpen, Beckett saw Ryan escorting a bearded man into interrogation. Esposito was waiting with Castle at her desk. "You caught the second man?" Beckett asked.

Before Esposito could respond, Castle said, "You know 'the second man' doesn't sound as cool as 'the third man'."

Both Esposito and Beckett gave him a disapproving look. Esposito answered Beckett's question, "Sort of. He accidentally turned himself in."

Ok, this has to be a good story. "What happened?"

"Ryan came back with a witness to work with a sketch artist. As they were walking through security they passed Carmichael's lawyer."

"He lawyered up?" Beckett asked.

"No, he came on his own," Esposito continued, "The lawyer, a Michael Carmichael—"

Castle interrupted, "Who would name their kid that?"

"Well, he was having trouble producing credentials, which is why he was stuck at security."

"Another alias," Beckett suggested.

Esposito nodded. "So the witness ID'd the second man right at our front door. Ryan brought him up and put him in the second interrogation room."

Beckett tightened her lips, stuck between a smile and slight frustration. "Ok, cancel the arraignment."

"Gates is going to be pissed," Castle commented. He must have been eavesdropping again.

"She'll have to get over it. We need to interrogate both so we can formulate the right charges with the DA." Despite the extra work, Beckett found herself slightly satisfied Gates wasn't getting her way.

"Do you want me to run Michael's prints too?" Esposito asked.

"When you have a chance. They aren't going to get done very fast on the weekend anyway. You and Ryan can take a stab at him first. We've got big brother Charles."

Esposito nodded at Beckett's plan and went to join Ryan.

Beckett and Castle walked into the observation room so Beckett could make sure everything was recording. She looked through the window at Charles Carmichael and saw he was mumbling.

"Oh, crap."

"What's he doing? Is he talking to himself?" Castle asked.

"He might be trying to set up an insanity defense. I'm going to have to call for a psych consult before I can question him."

"Didn't he waive his right to counsel?"

"If he's crazy, he can't make that decision for himself. I have to go make a call."

Beckett walked out of the room towards her desk, when she saw Ryan and Esposito leaving the other interrogation room.

"You guys are done already?" Beckett challenged.

"We could say the same about you," Ryan replied.

"Our guy's trying the insanity defense."

Esposito said, "Ours too. You should see this."

Beckett and Castle joined the other two detectives in the second observation room. Through the window, Michael Carmichael was chanting over and over, "I'm not going to talk. You'll never make me talk. I'm not going to talk. You'll never make me talk." He was rocking back in forth in rhythm with his words.

After a minute Castle got impatient, "He's got to stop sometime. Right?"

Beckett grimaced. "Maybe he won't talk, but maybe he'll listen. Come on, Castle."

Beckett entered the room with the chanting man and calmly sat down. Castle joined her. After a couple of minutes, she spoke quietly, "You don't have to talk if you don't want to Mr. Carmichael. But you should listen."

Her quiet voice worked. Michael had stopped chanting to listen. Beckett continued, "Thank you. I'm sure continuously talking like that can be tiring, so maybe we can come to an agreement. You say you won't talk, but you came to the station for a reason. If I help you with that, maybe you could help me."

Michael looked defiant, in a sort of overly dramatic kind of way. After setting his jaw for a for a long pause, he finally said, "I came here to talk to Chuck."

Beckett continued her quiet voice, "I'm sorry, but you have been identified as a possible suspect for a murder. I cannot put you in a room with another suspect."

With Michael's promise of not talking broken, he didn't seem to care and started talking freely. "As if Chuck would ever kill anyone. The person you should be worried about is Sarah."

"Are you saying this Sarah committed this murder?"

Morgan's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "No. She wasn't even in the same city. I'm saying YOU need to be worried about Sarah. The last time Chuck was held captive, she tore up half the Thai jungle to rescue him. You know they have stories about the Giant Blonde She-Male because of that."

Castle let out a laugh. "Yeah, I saw that article in The Onion, too."

Morgan bobbed his head in agreement. "I know. I used to think those articles were a joke. But after seeing one that I know for a fact is true, I'm rethinking that entire publication."

Beckett sighed as Castle replied, "You mean to say the Giant Blonde She-Male is coming to rescue your brother."

"Yes, unless you let me see him and let us go. Also, she doesn't like the GBSM name, so I wouldn't call her that. It's not that she killed anyone who called her that. Most of them were running away as they shouted it out."

Beckett covered her eyes. This was getting ridiculous. This was supposed to be Ryan and Espo's interrogation. She could just imagine them laughing behind the glass.

Beckett tried to regain control of the discussion, "Your brother is pulling out the insanity card. He's not in a state to talk to anyone."

"What did you do to him? Did you use needles? He doesn't like needles."

"Of course not. He's talking to himself."

"Oh, no. That means she might be coming. We don't have much time. Just let me in to talk to Chuck. You can even listen in through the glass. I'll get him to call off Sarah, and then we'll answer all of your questions and help solve your murder. How does that sound?"

It wasn't normal protocol, but it might work. She looked over at Castle who gave her a 'why not' shrug. She thought about it for a few seconds and then made her decision. "Ok, Michael Carmichael. Let's go see Charles."

As she walked Michael over to the other interrogation room, she noticed Ryan and Esposito running interference with Gates. That almost made up for sticking her with that interrogation. Gates didn't need to know what Beckett was going about to try. She let Michael in with Charles, locked the door, and quickly joined Castle in the observation room.

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"Chuck!"

"Morgan, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to rescue you."

"Aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"As in Star Wars… Never mind. So what's the plan?"

"Sarah didn't tell you?"

"She's giving me the silent treatment."

"That's better than what she gave me. I got quite the earful. This would have been a lot easier if you just let me use the thing in my noggin."

"Morgan, you still need more training with that."

"I'm tired of training."

"I know, buddy, but we're just looking out for you. We don't want you by yourself in the field when you don't flash properly."

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"Did he just imply they're going to break out by flashing everyone?"

Beckett winced, "I'm not sure, but I hope not."

"That's a really dumb plan."

"And I won't want the story getting around to other divisions and precincts."

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"I've been thinking I need a different word than flash. I'll let you know when I think of something."

"Whatever."

"All I know is you better stay on your woman's good side."

"Of course, she's my wife. You think I haven't learned that by now?"

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"This fictional GBSM, a.k.a. Sarah, is Chuck's wife?"

"There is no Giant Blonde She-Male."

"But there is a Sarah."

Beckett groaned. Why did Castle have to go along with every crazy idea?

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"So what's the plan?"

"Maybe I should hold off for now. We are being monitored." Morgan pointed his thumb to the glass. "Speaking of which… I really like the glass in this interrogation room. It looks new. Maybe we should ask where they bought it and order some for Castle."

Chuck ignored the suggestion, "Well, please tell me the plan before it's my turn to do anything."

"Don't worry. Casey has everything under control."

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"What Castle, and who's Casey?"

"I don't know, Castle. Just please refrain from the 'Who's on First?' bit with Casey at the Bat."

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"What about Ellyas Abshir?"

"Actually, Sarah's working on that part."

"Good."

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"Could that be the vic?"

"Probably so." Beckett peaked out the door and saw Ryan walking over. Esposito was still running interference. She quickly told Ryan to look up Ellyas Abshir.

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"At least I've confirmed you're ok. I never meant to be captured myself. I hope this still works with Casey's escape plan."

"We could try talking our way out."

"You are really good at that, Chuck. Maybe we should try."

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"I'm getting tired of them talking about breaking out. Come on, Castle. It's time for our questions."

Beckett and Castle walked into the interrogation room and Michael, a.k.a. Morgan, moved to the other side of the table, joining Chuck.

"We met last night, but I never introduced myself. I'm Detective Kate Beckett. This is Richard Castle. You can cut the escape talk now. We have you on theft, breaking and entering, and conspiracy to escape police custody. We'll soon have you on mur—"

Chuck interrupted, "Excuse me, sorry to interrupt. But did you say Detective Beckett and Richard Castle?"

Oh great, fans. "We don't do autographs for murder suspects."

"What? No. It's just we've met before. Sort of. That's a relief. This is going to be a piece of cake."

Castle, who had been furrowing his brow since he walked in, suddenly snapped his fingers and exclaimed, "I knew I'd seen you before."

Chuck replied, "I don't think so. We've just talked on the phone. I've only been to New York once before."

Castle replied, a little excited, "I know. At my bar, The Old Haunt."

Chuck thought for a second. "I went to a bar with Sarah, but we didn't stay long. I don't remember the name."

Castle was sure of himself now. "You were there with that leggy blonde." Beckett rolled her eyes. Of course that's why Castle knew this guy.

Chuck sent Castle a pointed glare, very different than the common guy persona he had been projecting. "That's my wife you're talking about. Well, she was my fiancée at the time."

Castle's eyes widened. "This Sarah you've been talking about, the Giant Blonde She-Male, is your wife? That makes so much sense."

Chuck held his stare, "She doesn't mind that name, but I do."

"Sorry. I just saw the article in The Onion. I meant no offense." Castle turned to Beckett, who had her own glare for her partner. "Chuck here was in my bar last spring with this… Sarah. Some big guys went over to their table to hit on her, even though she was clearly with Chuck. I was expecting it to go sideways, especially with those other people in the bar." Castle gave Beckett a knowing look.

She didn't understand. "What other people?"

"Those military people we aren't supposed to talk about," Castle mumbled.

Chuck heard anyway, "Oh yeah. I flashed on those guys in the back, but everything in their files was redacted. That's part of why we left. We didn't want to get pulled into anything."

Huh? That made no sense, but unless something happened in the bathrooms, 'flashing' didn't mean what they thought it did.

Castle said, "Well I assumed it was because of what happened next. I was about to call the station to have a patrol come by. My place is a cop bar, but for some reason none of the regulars were there."

"They were doing paperwork because of what happened earlier that day," Beckett hinted.

"Makes sense. So I was about to call when suddenly the big guy was on the floor. She took him down with some kind of wrist lock. She didn't even have to stand. Two seconds later, the other two stumbled backwards trying to get away. A few seconds later, all three were gone."

Chuck laughed. "She'd pulled out one of her knives from her thigh holster."

Oh great, some crazy chick is really going to try to break these two out.

Chuck continued, "This has been a nice trip down memory lane, but that's not what I meant when I said we know each other. We talked on the phone the night before we were at that bar."

Beckett and Castle looked expectantly at Chuck. He simply offered his hand. "Hi! I'm Chuck Bartowski. It's good to meet you in person. This is Morgan Grimes, my best friend and another member of my team at Carmichael Industries. We talked about Lester Patel and Jeff Barnes. You had arrested them for murder, which was really couch lock, and then were later confused because of the name of their creepy stalker van. You called us in the middle of that DEA raid." Realizing neither Beckett nor Castle was going to take his hand, he withdrew it.

Beckett remembered, even though she wished she didn't. Castle's eyes were wide and he was barely holding in a grin of excitement, "You're CIA!"

Beckett interjected, "Wait a second. For all we know you are some mercenary team that occasionally works for the US government."

Chuck said, "That's sort of what we are now. But we like to call it 'Private Spies for Hire.' At the time we were CIA, but we're independent now."

Beckett's frustration was mounting. "Whatever you are, that doesn't give you the right to murder someone."

"That's ok, because we didn't do it." Chuck sounded honest, but it was hard to get a read on him. Nobody was that happy-go-lucky when talking about spies, bar fights, DEA raids, and murder.

"This sounds like something out of one of your books." Beckett didn't mean to say that out loud.

"Oh, yeah. You're a famous author or something. We're more into comic books. My wife reads up on current events. Casey's more into war histories."

"I did just release my first comic book through Marvel."

Beckett was beside herself. Did Castle really need to be trying to pitch his comic books right now?

"Really? What superpowers does the hero have?" Morgan sounded interested.

"No super powers. Derrick Storm is a P.I. from the best-selling novel series I wrote before my current series based on the NYPD and—"

"Ah, we're more into super heroes, post apocalyptic, and cyberpunk stories. And Chuck here is a hard core DC comics guy."

Beckett almost wanted to defend Castle's story. She really liked it. But then remembered this was supposed to be a murder suspect interrogation. "That's nice, boys, but we still have no proof that you used to be CIA, and we still have strong evidence that ties you to this murder. We don't even know your real names."

Chuck put a hand on Morgan's arm to calm his comic book excitement. "Ok. As I said, my real name is Charles Bartowski. This is Morgan Grimes. We both live in Echo Park, California, in the same apartment complex. You can confirm with the DMV. Honestly, I don't know what would happen if you run us by the CIA. We quit when they were trying to fire us. We are in good standing with some people, but not with others."

"What's with the Carmichael name?" Castle asked. "Michael Carmichael is a horrible name."

Chuck gave Morgan an I-told-you-so look. "Charles Carmichael is my professional name. My wife's is Sarah Walker. After taking down a couple of rogue spy organizations and capturing Alexi Volkoff, we thought we should leverage our reputations."

Castle laughed again. "You guys… You two… took down Alexi Volkoff? Number three on the FBI's Most Wanted List? Right."

Chuck shrugged while Morgan grinned.

"Ok, how?"

"It was a team effort. Even my mom helped. But the details are classified. Carmichael and Walker are our professional names, sort of like your professional name is Rick Castle."

"Actually, I legally changed my name to Rick Castle."

"Really? What was it before?"

"Richard Rogers."

"Like the guy who wrote musicals? I see why you changed it." Chuck turned to Beckett. "Well maybe a better example is like your professional name is Kate Beckett."

"Nikki Heat is just a fictional character based on me."

"I know. Well, I didn't know Nikki Heat because haven't read the books. Actually, Nikki Heat sounds like a stripper name." Beckett shot yet another glare at her partner. Chuck continued, "See, that's what I meant. Kate Beckett is you professional name and your real name is Kate Castle."

Castle gulped. Beckett dropped her pen in shock. After taking a moment to recover, "We're not married."

"Really? You fooled me. Morgan?"

"I thought so, too."

Beckett just wanted to go home and curl up in a ball. She prayed Ryan and Esposito were not watching through the glass. She wondered if it would be tampering with evidence if she edited that part out of the interrogation tapes, because this really wasn't much of an interrogation anymore. Honestly, if it weren't for Castle's bar story and the references to the two morons, she wouldn't believe any of this absurdity. Time to get back on track.

"Now that we know who everyone is, could you please tell me why you killed the man in that hotel room?"

"We didn't kill Ellyas Abshir. He's a bad guy—a pirate out of Mogadishu. There are probably a lot of people that want him dead."

Beckett could feel the excitement coming off of Castle. This story already had jungle warriors and the CIA. Why not pirates?

There was a knock at the door. Beckett turned and saw Ryan with a note. He was grinning way more than was appropriate, but he simply handed her the note and left. The note confirmed their identities and included an extremely brief background.

"It says here that Chuck graduated from Stanford recently and you both work at a Buy More in Burbank, California." That was where the strange pair from the cover band Jeffster worked. "It doesn't say anything about the CIA."

"It's our cover job. Actually, my wife and I bought the store last May to solidify the cover for our new spy business."

Who would do that? Beckett asked her next question, "Chuck, you graduated from Stanford, but you still work at a Buy More?"

Chuck sighed. "I attended 1999-2003 until I was framed for cheating by my CIA roommate during my last semester. Later, when I was working for the CIA, we found proof I was innocent, the CIA cleared my record, and Stanford gave me credit for my CIA work."

That's a ridiculous story.

Castle asked for confirmation on one of the ridiculous points, "Your college roommate was also CIA?"

Chuck nodded, "He was recruited our junior year."

"Bryce Larkin, the bastard!" Morgan snarled.

Wait a sec. "Did you say Bryce Larkin? From Stanford?" Beckett asked.

"Yes, well originally from Connecticut." Chuck sounded tentative.

"Was he in some sports?"

"Gymnastics and track."

Beckett was working out the years. She was only there one semester in 1998. "Would you remember if he dated a Cindy Brighton?"

"Bryce dated a lot of women. Did she have a really high-pitched laugh?"

"No."

"Wait. She was the one with the purple hair. She was a year ahead of us."

Beckett's mouth dropped in disbelief. "I was only at Stanford a semester, but Cindy was my roommate. She came to visit a couple years later with her boyfriend Bryce."

Morgan interrupted, "Wow, Bryce Larkin did sleep with everyone."

"Excuse me?" Castle bristled.

Chuck jumped in as peacemaker. "My buddy Morgan here didn't mean to imply your… If you're not married, what are you?"

"We're partners," Castle quickly answered.

"Partners? That's ambiguous. That almost sounds worse than when Sarah and I were cover dating pretending to be in love for our friends and family, pretending to be not in love for our bosses, all the while really being in love with each other while fooling ourselves and each other."

The room was quiet while everyone tried to parse what Chuck had very quickly said.

Morgan got there first—or just gave up, "Been practicing that?"

"No, actually, it comes from obsessing about it for a couple of years. Anywho. Morgan didn't mean to imply your partner and Bryce were... Let's just say Bryce just got around and forget what a small world this is."

"He's been dead for two years anyway." Morgan sounded happy about it.

Chuck cleared his throat. "Sorry, officially he has been dead for four years, not two.

Officially, as in faked his death but died two years later? Beckett never voiced her question.

"Anyway, we want to get out of here, and you want to catch your murderer, so let's check in with my beautiful wife Sarah and see how that is going."

Chuck stuck his finger in his right ear and started wiggling. Castle and Beckett wrinkled their noses in disgust, while Chuck continued digging.

"See, Chuck. I told you it was hard to get out."

"Morgan, they have to be small so people can't see them. Plus, I like it when Sarah pulls it out. She uses her tongue."

"Maybe she could teach that to Alex. Except that won't work because Alex doesn't know I'm still spying. Oh well."

Too much information.

Chuck dug into his ear for a few more seconds before finally pulling something out. He set it on the table. Beckett and Castle both leaned in. If that was an ear wick, it was the smallest she had ever seen.

"Could I have your phone?" Chuck directed is question at Castle.

"What? Why?" He held up his phone, but didn't hold it out.

"Never mind. A windows phone won't work for what I need. My team has iPhones, so I haven't ported the software to Android or Windows yet. What kind of phone do you have Detective?"

Beckett answered, "I just got an iPhone. Why?"

"I need a speaker so everyone can hear. You can consider this my one phone call."

"How about we just dial the phone?"

"If Sarah is hunting the killer, her phone is off. The ear wick uses our private, secure satellite communication network, which is not part of your cell phone plan. So I'll need to jailbreak your phone, enable a Bluetooth connection to my two way ear wick, and install a simple app. Don't worry, I'll put everything back when I'm done. I'm actually certified to repair iPhones, so we won't be voiding your warranty."

Beckett wasn't sure. She looked at Castle, and saw he was mesmerized with the technobabble. His eyes pleaded for her to go along with it. It sounded ludicrous, but in for a penny…

Beckett handed over the phone. She watched closely as Chuck's fingers went fast to work. In less than a minute he was rebooting the phone. A minute later he was busy again. Morgan leaned back, reclining and relaxing. Castle was trying to peer around the edge of the phone. A minute later, "Done."

Chuck put the phone in the middle of the table and enabled the speaker phone. They all heard a thudding sound and a metal door sliding closed.

"Hey babe, I have Detective Beckett and Rick Castle here. Is now a good time?"

"Yeah, Chuck. I wasn't really ignoring you, you know. I had to be quiet so I could catch her."

"So you got the person who killed Abshir?"

"Of course. I'll be there soon. Is Detective Beckett there?"

Beckett sat up. "Yes, that's me."

"Good to speak with you again. I've been listening in, and it sounds like you don't completely believe Morgan or my husband. Do I need to wave a lighted cell phone behind a TV camera again?"

She was listening in? To the interrogation? Beckett answered, "No. But look at it from my standpoint. Some of what I've heard sounds like fiction and can't be confirmed. A couple years ago, we were almost fooled by a suspect playing a real-life spy entertainment game. If I could confirm your identities from the CIA—"

"That probably won't work. When you arrested Chuck, I was in the middle of breaking into the DNI in DC—"

"Did you do it?" Chuck asked.

"No. I had to quit in the middle so I could fly from DC to New York to help you two out. The Wickerman Prize for breaking into a director-level office when handing in retirement papers is still up for the taking. I had to drop out through a ceiling tile in the main lobby. I handed in my badge and resignation papers to Billy. He said he'd take of everything."

"Who's Billy? Should I be worried?" Chuck had a small smile that showed he was flirting.

Sarah laughed. "Billy's an 87 year old retired spy who was at Yalta. They let him come in and hang out with building security when he's bored. He flirts shamelessly with all of the female agents, but he's a sweetheart and very reliable. So in thirty years, my pension will vest."

"Sorry you didn't get the prize."

"That's ok, except I now owe Zondra a bottle of Scotch. I really just needed to talk to Beckman about our official status and designation. It would help for the exact situation you are in right now."

"Yeah, well, I didn't expect a homicide detective and her 'partner' to be on a date in the same hotel as Ashbir."

It wasn't a date!

"So who killed him?" Chuck asked.

"Another ex-Volkoff agent. Hopefully they all just kill each other so we don't have to deal with this very long. Detective Beckett, I'm bringing all of the evidence you'll need, but I wouldn't be surprised if the FBI wants to claim jurisdiction."

"That's nice, but I still have numerous charges to file against Mr. Bartowski and Mr. Grimes. Catching someone who may or may not really be the murderer doesn't clear them of those charges."

"I've got this one, honey," Chuck said. "The building manager signed off on our repairs, so it's not breaking and entering. Morgan actually made repairs, so it's not fraud."

"Seriously?" Castle asked in disbelief.

Morgan shrugged, "I'm a man of many talents."

Chuck resumed, "The room in question was paid for by money embezzled from accounts that Carmichael Industries controls. I've downloaded the money transfer record to this phone so you can confirm that we actually paid for the room. You can't break into your own room."

"How did you download the transfer record? I don't have one of those surf-while-talking plans."

"Right now you're on the Carmichael Industries unlimited minutes plan. We don't have those types of restrictions. I'll switch you back." Chuck reached for the phone.

Sarah spoke up, "I have to go radio silent anyway. See you soon. I love you, Chuck."

"I love you too, babe."

Chuck returned to work on the phone. In less time than before, he handed the phone back to Beckett. "As good as new… ish."

"I can't let you keep that ear wick," Beckett said as Chuck went to put it back in his ear. Chuck simply crushed it between his fingers, leaving a devastated look on Castle's face. Obviously, Chuck wasn't concerned about the cost of such cutting edge technology. Beckett looked to Morgan and held out her hand, "I'm going to need yours as well."

"Detective, if I could get it out, I would. It's really practically in my brain now and is more than a bit uncomfortable." Morgan rubbed his ear in a way that looked like it would only push it further into his skull.

Beckett gave up and went back to her mental list of charges, "What about the burglary?"

"The thing we reclaimed was a classified piece of black market weapons technology which—" Chuck looked to Morgan.

"Yes, Chuck, Casey has already handed the device off to a local NSA agent he trusts to get it the right people."

"So you won't find any record of that device on any customs statements. For all practical purposes, it didn't exist." Chuck smiled. He had all of his bases covered.

Beckett sat there and stared at him. Chuck looked a little sheepish, but held his smile. She turned to Morgan, who gulped but didn't shrink back.

"Fine. I'm still holding you and your plucky side-kick as material witnesses and persons of interest until this information can be corroborated. Wait here, and someone will transfer you both to a holding cell."

Chuck and Morgan both frowned, but didn't complain to her. As Castle and Beckett walked out, she heard Morgan arguing with Chuck about who should be the plucky side-kick now. Outside the room were two uniforms waiting to escort the 'Carmichael brothers' down to holding.

Beckett stomped off to the captain's office. She quickly glanced over at the murder board. It would need to be completely reworked. But first she had to deal with the captain. She motioned for Castle to wait at her desk, which he obediently followed. She didn't need any sarcastic comments from him in this upcoming confrontation, and he seemed to understand that, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut. Beckett knocked on the captain's door.

"Enter." Gates looked up. "Ah, good. Did you get a confession?"

"No. Their story points to a woman who was on the scene before they were." Here is comes. She's going to push for the arraignment anyway.

"Ok. It doesn't matter. Detective Ryan told me the victim was number 18 on the FBI Most Wanted List, so we're not going to be able to hold onto this case no matter what. Now I need you to pull together all of your notes, evidence, and witness statements so we can quickly hand this off. I'll need a summary report, and then we can contact the FBI and cleanly hand this case and the suspects off to them."

Figures. She found out she won't get the glory, so she wants to look good to the Feds while getting it out of the way as fast as possible. Who cares if the suspects are innocent and should be released?

Beckett wouldn't fight it overtly, though. "Yes, sir. I'll work on that report."

"I'm looking forward to it. Dismissed."

Dismissed? When did this become the military?

Beckett returned to her desk and saw the frightened look on Castle's face. "What?" she asked him as she slammed a drawer shut.

"I was just trying to figure out what I did wrong."

Beckett realized he misunderstood and thought her determined and angry look was meant for him. Poor guy. She eased his mind with a mischievous and slightly flirty smile. She slapped down her notebook and stood up. "Come on, Castle."

"Where are we going? Do we need our coats?"

"No, we are going downstairs."

"What about the report Gates is looking forward to?"

"You need to stop eavesdropping before you get caught. And as for the report, I'm looking forward to the Harry Potter DVD release, but I still have to wait."

Castle smiled at his defiant partner. "So do I get to see you work out?" His expression dropped. "You're not going to hit me in the sparring ring, are you?"

"Nah, not this time. We're going to the range."

"Why?"

"Because shooting makes me feel better."