Sorry it took me so long to get this next chapter up. I had a lot going on with my new job and my birthday all in the same week. I haven't exactly had a lot of free time. Anyways I want to thank everyone for following along and reviewing. I really do appreciate it. So here is the next chapter, and there is definitely more to follow.

"Yeah I am ok, but my friend here wants you to put the bottle of scotch I got for Beckett in the mailbox in the lobby."

"Castle, I have the key he is looking for. Let me talk to him."

Castle hands the phone to George. "It's for you"

"Yes?"

"Hi my name is detective Beckett of the NYPD. How's it going over there?"

George covers the phone and leans in towards Castle, "you called your cop girlfriend?"

"I'm at his apartment actually. I have the key you're looking for." Beckett explains

"Then when can I have what belongs to me?"

"Let's make a trade. You let Castle go, and I'll give you your key."

"Nice try. You give me the key, or I deliver him in pieces. You have 2 hours to decide. Either way, I want my key" George hangs up the phone and glares at his hostage. As he walks out of the cell he turns back towards Castle "You better hope your girlfriend gives me what I want, or you're going to pay the price"

After that, Beckett's blood is boiling. No one comes between Kate Beckett and her man. She left Castle's loft and headed towards the precinct.

Upon her arrival, Ryan meets her at the elevator. She had called the guys on the way over to fill them in on the situation. "Tell me you have some good news"

"Samuel Sarentos is in the box, waiting on you"

She reaches her desk in three steps. There is no time to waste and she knew it. She had been in these types of positions before. A kidnapping, serial killer, a nuclear bomb, none of them were more urgent than this debacle.

She glosses over Samuel's file, and heads into the interrogation room alone. She didn't need backup. If anyone needed it, it was this poor excuse of a man, now sitting in handcuffs across the table from her.

This was her element now. The interrogation room or "the box" as it's referred to by NYPDs finest, was her arena. It was the place where she can tear down the most vile criminals. Everyone in the precinct knew to let her do interrogations. She had a cold stare, and an icy look to chill the veins of any villain unlucky enough to be sitting across from Kate Beckett.

Samual Sarentos was average height, strong build. He had short, thin white hair and a thin white beard to match. He was wearing a cutoff jean vest which displayed his muscular arm and tattoos down to his handcuffs. He fitted the exact look of a stereotypical criminal.

"Mr. Sarentos, have you been advised of your rights?"

"Don't patronize me" he snaps back at her "I know how this works. If I had a nickel for every time I was interrogated, I'd be in Beverly Hills for the rest of my life."

"That's funny, because I see that you are looking at a few nickels to life, for felony abduction on top of murder"

"I didn't abduct nobody!"

"Really? We'll see about that" She flips open his file and starts roughing through the pages. She does it for effect. She already knows what she needs out of it, and it was organized before she ever left her desk. She slides out a picture and holds on to it. "Sam, I see that you were working at the America Museum of Natural History as a janitor, must've been pretty fulfilling work. It also says that you started working there just two weeks, after the Museum bought the collection of Scotch from the NYPD auction"

"So? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well the crew that was working on the display of the Scotch filed complaints against you, saying you were spying on them, and even going through some of the bottles"

"I don't know nothing about that"

"No?" she says sliding a security camera picture over to him. "Is that not you, going through some of those bottles Mr. Sarentos?"

"Fine, yeah that was me. So what, I thought about taking just one. It's worth a lot"

"But you weren't after the Scotch, were you?" Samuel's face got serious all of a sudden. Beckett continued "You were after something hidden in those bottles, and you wanted it desperately, so after you figured it wasn't there, you figured someone else must have it" He just glared at her, knowing where she was going with this. He was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It didn't matter to him. If he didn't deliver the right bottle to his partner, he was a dead man. Beckett was still going but he was tuned out. He caught the tail end of her rant

"…and you went to her apartment, couldn't find the right bottle. She threatened to call the cops, and you killed her"

He just stared at her with a mean look, jutting out his lower jaw, grinding his teeth together.

"We have your fingerprints on the murder weapon. We know you killed her. The real question is what were you looking for?"

"You already know that detective. I knew you would come snooping around, once I saw that writer on the list of buyers. Yeah I killed her" he leans over the table and whispers "but I aint got your boyfriend"

"Then who does, Samuel? Where are they!?" She leans over the table getting closer to this now-confessed killer. "You tell me where they are right now or, so help me, I will make sure you never see the light of day again. You will rot in a dark, damp, dirty cell for the rest of your days" She sits back down in her chair. "But if you help me, I can make sure you are put in a better prison. I can lesser your charge of accessory to kidnapping"

"You can't protect me from him"

"I can protect you from anyone. Help me stop him, and I will make sure he will never find you."

He looks at her, searching for his decision to help the cops or not, and sees a fire raging in her eyes. A raging wildfire that cannot be stopped. He knew right then, he didn't want to be on the wrong side of that wildfire.

"Alright, fine. Me and this guy George were roommates back in the joint. He was in for robbery, and used to talk about all the things he had stolen looking for this key his great grandfather had left his family. He never figured out where it could be, until he learned of the stash of Scotch at that bar uptown you guys busted. His pops worked there. Helped make that scotch. So, he figured it would be there. He didn't find it in the cellar, but he found a letter, hinting it was in the scotch"

"So he sent you after it..?"

"Well he reached out to me after I got out, told me he had a job for me. The riches would be legendary"

"Legendary?"

"Yeah he said his pops used to brag about this loot he had stashed away. Loot he got from robbing a bank during WWI. Worth millions. The key he left would lead to a safety deposit box where the loot was stashed.

"Where is he hiding?"

"You want to go at him? Better be ready. This guy has nothing to lose and will go down swinging"

Beckett stares straight her suspect. She knows he knows where this guy is, and nothing will stop her.

"Bongo warehouse, off 73rd street."

Ryan and Esposito catch Beckett as she leaves the interrogation room.

"Guy we're looking for is George Hopper, 38, career criminal with a history of violent crimes. Released from New York State Penitentiary not too long ago for involuntary manslaughter. File says he went for the insanity plea during trail to lessen the charge of Murder 1." Ryan says, as he posts his picture up on the white board.

Esposito places a map up on the white board as well.

"The Bongo warehouse on the West side is mainly used for repair and maintenance for some of their shipping trucks, it's not too big, and we should be able to handle it with the three of us. Assuming it's just him inside. We can have uniforms block off the streets just around the building in case he tries to give us the slip. The streets around there have minimal traffic and shouldn't cause a problem."

Both Ryan and Esposito look at Beckett almost as if for permission. She's already throwing her jacket on when she catches their looks.

"OK let's go get him."