Thursday 4:14 pm

The Loft

Martha said, "Richard used to say that he wanted to be immortal."

"Oh! Martha, I didn't hear you come in." Despite Martha's upraised hand, Beckett extricated herself from the chair, and slid around the desk to hug the older woman. She pulled back to arms length, and began, "Martha, I'm so sor …".

Martha hushed her by firmly placing two fingers over Beckett's lips. "Katherine. I need to speak with you, but I don't have a lot of time now. I have my marching orders. We'll talk tonight, but I need your help with something immediately."

"Anything, Martha."

"Did you see what was going on outside?" Martha was visibly upset.

"Outside where?"

"They are selling Richard's books out on the sidewalk. Out of a little stand, like hot dogs or pretzels! They are advertising advanced sales to his biography! A biography written by, of all people, Gina Cowell! There are television cameras down there taking it all in. There are women overacting for the cameras, expressing their undying love for my son."

"I take it that's not normal?" Beckett had never understood the publicity side of Castle's career, and he had sheltered her from most of the craziness.

"It's so far over the top, it's … it's … it's Mt Everest!" In Beckett's experience, Martha Rogers was NEVER at a loss for words. This was serious.

"What can I do?"

"Do you have Gina's number? I need that circus removed before Alexis arrives."

"I don't, but I'm sure it's on Castle's computer. Give me a minute." She slid back around the desk. She noticed she actually felt a little better. Apparently, five chapters of Nikki Heat was what she'd needed. She took a deep breath. She wasn't normal by any means, but she wasn't in the midst of a panic attack. It was nice to be doing something. Anything.

She turned on the computer monitor. When it lit up, she gasped. Her eyes flew wide. Stomach bile rose so fast up to the back of her throat she had to clap her palm over her mouth to keep it in. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. A small squeak of distress escaped her lips.

"Katherine. What's wrong?" Martha stepped around the desk. Castle's screen saver marched across the screen. 'YOU SHOULD BE WRITING. YOU SHOULD BE WRITING.' Castle's Mom spun the desk chair around to face her. She put her arms on the outside of Beckett's biceps, and started rubbing her arms up and down, from shoulder to elbow, as if warming her. "Katherine, dear. KATHERINE!" Beckett wide eyes finally looked into Martha's eyes. "Please. I need your help!"

Beckett finally nodded and turned back around, swallowing down the awful taste, carefully moving the mouse before looking up at the monitor. A picture of her and Castle at the Hamptons was the background. The picture had been taken on Alexis' cell phone as they walked the beach one evening. She remembered every detail of that magical day vividly.

It was at that precise moment that Beckett realized she was not going to make it. She would not survive this. She would exert a monumental effort, continue on as well as possible, to help her family and loved ones over the next few days. Make sure that Lanie was good to check on her Dad, and that Alexis and Martha were in as good a place as possible. Just a few more days, but after that all bets were off. She'd given away too much of herself to be able to exist on what little was left. Too much of her heart. Too much of her soul. She'd relied too heavily on her partner, so that she had as much chance of living without him as she did to live without air.

It was the classic paradox. Two locked boxes, each key inside the other, unreachable behind the unopenable lid. The only person who could possibly help her, on the whole planet, was Castle. The reason she needed help was she had orchestrated Castle's death. Re-joining Castle was the only alternative she could see. Strangely, the realization gave her no peace. Tears filled her eyes and leaked, unchecked, down her cheeks. She bent over the keyboard and carefully typed his password: 'A1ways!'

The User ID and Password boxes were replaced by a multitude of icons, filling the screen. Beckett peered through her blurred vision, looking for the right box. Castle sure liked his toys. Finding the electronic rolodex, she clicked it, scrolled down to 'Cowell, Gina' and clicked that. At the pop-up box she clicked the Call option and checked the Speaker box. A tissue box appeared in front of Kate, courtesy of Martha, and Beckett grabbed a couple.

From a flat speaker on the big desk emanated a couple of clicks, and then one ring, followed by a second. Before the third, a voice spoke. "This is Gina Cowell. Who's this?"

"Gina, it's Martha Rogers."

"Martha. I saw the caller ID and I got a little spooked. I'm so sorry about Richard. Listen, I'm a little late for a meeting. Can I call you back?"

"No, you can't call me back! Gina, there's an outlandish display featuring my son and his books outside, and a biography from you, and a very unruly crowd. Alexis will be here …."

"Oh, isn't it great? We have to make the most of this terrible …"

"NO. It's NOT great! Alexis' plane lands in a few minutes. I need you take that … that hot dog stand down now."

"Martha, you just don't understand business. Richard never did either. Timing is critical in this industry. Listen. I'm truly sorry about Richard. I loved him too. But we must soldier on. I promise you, maintaining your income stream is my top priority. I've already started interviewing ghost writers for the biography. Let's just leave this to the professionals, shall we?"

"Gina, I will not have my granddaughter subjected to that mob. Take it down. Now."

"Martha, I'm sorry. There's really nothing you can do. We have all the permits necessary."

Beckett had been watching Martha during the whole conversation. She seemed to age before her eyes, frustration and disbelief adding years to her face. She looked beseechingly at Kate, so Kate leaned forward, "Gina. It's Kate Beckett."

A five second delay, followed by, "You unspeakable bitch! Do you have ANY idea what you've done? How many years you've taken away from us?"

Martha looked at Beckett with alarm, but Kate was nodding. She replied, "Yea. I have a pretty good idea." Anguish etched her features, but her voice was even.

"This isn't funny, you gold digging slut. I am going to make sure our lawyers sue you and your precious police force into oblivion."

Beckett was still even voiced. In the great scheme of things, Gina was barely a blip on her radar. "So, can I assume you won't be removing that little memorial thing you've got going on down in front?"

"Fuck you, you pig." Dial tone.

Martha looked ready to rush over and give Kate a hug, support her. Kate looked at Martha, and calmly held her palm up to keep the diva in her chair. She gave Martha a ghost of a smile and said, "This is what I do. I get idiots to say something stupid, and then shove it up their. . . behinds. This is almost too easy." She added,"I haven't been called a pig in ten years. It's so 1960's". What she didn't say was, Kate's opinion of Kate was a lot worse than Gina's opinion of Kate. No hug was going to help that. Ever.

Beckett scrolled through Castle's contact list, stopping on Vincent Black. She clicked the call button for his office. On the first ring, a young female voice answered, "Black Pawn Publishing, Vincent Black's office."

Beckett requested "Vincent Black, please."

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Black's in a meeting. Would you like to speak to his voice mail?"

"No. I want Mr Black. In person. This is an emergency."

"Who's calling, please?"

"Richard Castle."

"Excuse me?"

"Do you have caller ID? If so, check it, and then get Mr Black on the phone. Right away. It's Richard Castle calling." Kate never raised her voice, but the urgency was conveyed thru her tone and diction. After no more than a minute, Vincent Black's voice emerged from the speaker.

"Who is this?"

"Kate Beckett."

"Oh my goodness. Kate! I am so sorry for your loss! Tragic! If there's ANYTHING Black Pawn, or I personally, can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask." Black had always loved Richard Castle and enjoyed Kate the few times they'd met at functions. More importantly, he was CEO and founder of Black Pawn, Gina's boss's boss. Most importantly, he was a humanitarian and a very decent human being.

"Mr Black. Were you aware that I have complete power of attorney for Rick's estate?"

"Kate, please call me Vince. And no, I wasn't aware of that. Why?"

"Because, as of six pm today, I'm severing all connection between Black Pawn and anything associated with either Nikki Heat or Derrick Storm, unless certain conditions are met."

Black sounded puzzled, not scared or mad. "That's you prerogative, of course. I hope we can keep our association, though. Your conditions?"

Beckett's voice was still in that deadly monotone that she'd used during the entirety of her deposition this morning. "One. The kiosk with the memorial and book store is removed from the front of our building within the hour. Certainly before Alexis Castle sees it."

"What kiosk?"

"The one in front of this building with your name on it. The one selling books and advertising coming biographies. We'll get to that. Number two. No biography of Richard Castle will be published without express permission and approval from Martha Rogers."

Martha, who'd been brightening, little by little, during this conversation, leaned in and said "Hi, Vince."

"Hello, Martha. What I said to Kate applies to you too, you know, whether or not we're still your publisher. Rick was a good friend. If you need anything . . . "

"Thank you, Vince. That means a lot to me."

"Kate? We're not in the habit of printing unauthorized biographies, and would be very aggressive trying to block anybody else from doing so."

"Thank you, Vince. Number Three. Gina Cowell has absolutely nothing to do with us or our business again."

"Uh, Kate? Is this personal? I'm actually in a meeting with her and her boss now. I know she and Rick had a history. Are you sure …"

"Vince, we're kind of pressed for time. If you could put me on speakerphone, I'll replay you the conversation we had with Gina ten minutes ago."

Vince said "okay' while Martha actually SMILED and asked, "You can do that?"

Beckett nodded and answered Martha, "Yes. This is all voice over IP. Castle hated to take notes. Vince, are you ready?"

Still puzzled, he said "Sure, Kate."

Beckett selected the top recording in the history file, hit play, and Gina's voice could be heard. Re-heard. "This is Gina Cowell. Who's this?" "Gina, it's Martha Rogers."

As soon as the replay began, sounds could be overheard on top of the recording, Gina's voice raised in complaint. The sound from the conference room cut off suddenly, leaving only the recording being replayed. God bless 'Mute' buttons.

Martha whispered, "Can they hear us?"

Kate leaned forward and pressed their own 'Mute' button. "No, not any more." She turned down the volume on the speaker.

"This is wonderful. You called it a voice over?"

"Voice over IP."

"I did a voice over once. It was for a Japanese film. It was atrocious. " Beckett looked at Martha, incredulous. She had no idea if the actress was pulling her leg or not. Regardless, the attempt at levity was appreciated. Then Martha asked "Can anybody listen to any previous calls from this house?" She looked alarmed.

Beckett shook her head. "Don't worry. Only calls that were made from this desk." Martha instantly looked relieved. She looked at Rick's Mom. She was so ... so, spectacularly … Martha! "Martha, what marching orders?"

"Excuse me, Dear?"

"You said you had your 'Marching Orders'. From whom?"

"Richard, of course! That boy has given me a list a mile long." Beckett began to wonder if Martha was taking a little break from reality, or at least, more so than normal. If so, Beckett was jealous. Reality sucked. Martha continued, "I was supposed to make sure you ate and to give you your letter. I picked up your favorite soup and sandwich from the deli. It's on the kitchen counter. I also arranged for the car to pick up Alexis once she clears customs. I'm supposed to be back at the lawyers' in about five minutes, but there was no way on earth I was going to let Alexis be subjected to that spectacle out front."

"So Alexis is coming here? Is Meredith with her?"

"We had to pull a lot of strings to get Alexis on a flight today. Meredith will follow tomorrow. If it's still on time, Alexis should have landed 10 minutes ago. I need to get back to the attorney's, and then I'll meet the two of you back here around eight. I'm bringing dinner. What's taking these people so long?"

The playback had ended a minute ago. Beckett turned the volume back up on the speaker, then pressed the 'Mute' button. She ventured, "Vince, are you still there?"

After a notable delay, Black's voice came back. He'd apparently taken them off of the speaker phone. There was a faint commotion in the background. "Kate. The memorial for Rick, minus the sales kiosk, is being relocated to the sidewalk here in front of Black Pawn. We can't get over there in time, but there's a moving company practically around the corner from you. They said they'll have it loaded up in the next 15 minutes. We'll give everybody over there still in line vouchers for free books for their inconvenience.

"Number two. No biography will be published, or even contemplated, without talking to Martha. If she wants, she can ghost write it."

Remembering Martha's one woman show, Beckett wasn't sure that was such a good idea. She asked, "What about Gina?"

Black's voice went from apologetic to glacial. "Gina who?"

Martha spoke up. "Thanks so much, Vince. We have to run, but I'll get back to you on that ghost writing idea."

"I am truly sorry for your loss, and for causing any additional difficulties for you two. Don't hesitate to call if we can do anything else."

"Thanks, Vince. Bye"

"Bye."

Martha looked up at Kate. "Thank you so much for your help, Katherine. Things will get easier, I promise. Now follow me. Let's get a little food in you." Both got up and went to the kitchen, where Kate found a sandwich and bowl of hot, or at least warm, soup.

Beckett said, "Thank you, Martha. I'm really not that hungry now. What I really need is to speak with you". Beckett's voice was pleading, urgent. What she actually wanted to ask was, 'Please explain to me how to tell your granddaughter that I choreographed her father's murder.'

"I'm sorry, Katherine. I have my instructions. You eat, you read the letter, than we can talk. Not before. The letter is on the coffee table in front of the couch. With tissues, since I know my son. Alexis has to clear customs, even if she came back empty-handed, so it'll be at least an hour before she gets here." Martha waited until Beckett actually sat down and started eating before giving her a sideways hug and turning for the door. "See you at eight, Kiddo."

Beckett ate mechanically, not tasting the food. All she could think about was the coming conversation. Alexis was what? Maybe 18 months older than I was when I lost my Mom. So, how would I have felt if Coogan came and tried to console me less than 24 hours after my Mom had been pronounced dead? Actually, that wasn't fair to Coogan. He'd actually killed my Mom, but Bracken orchestrated it. What could Bracken have said to me back then that would have made me feel better. Maybe, if he'd killed himself right then in front of me, that might have helped. It certainly couldn't have hurt. Maybe, once I've made absolutely sure Alexis knows how abysmally I failed her father, she'd appreciate a little theatre. A little street justice.

Beckett was surprised to find the sandwich and soup consumed. She didn't fill full. On the contrary, she felt totally empty. Hollow. She slipped off the stool and shuffled over to the couch. When she saw the envelope, she snatched it quickly. Her initials were on it, KB, in Castle's distinctive cursive. She had expected some letter from a lawyer, but this was from Rick! Her Castle! She sat and pulled back the flap with shaky fingers. The pages were all hand written! That was amazing in and of itself – Castle would type a grocery list if he could. She drew her feet up on the couch and began to read.