Chapter Five
Rick is walking home from taking Alexis to school the next morning when his phone rings. "Rick Castle," he answers when he doesn't recognize the number.
"Mr. Castle, this is Detective Esposito," he man on the other side of the line says.
"Have you found anything?" Rick asks eagerly.
"Nothing concrete, yet. But we were wondering if you wanted to come to the station and look at some of the evidence," the detective says. Ricks step falters. Did he really just say that? Is the NYPD really asking for his help?
"Ah, sure," he says, "I'm on my way."
He flags down a cab as soon as he puts his phone back in his pocket. Still a little stunned, he gives the address of the 12th precinct to the driver. Suddenly he's happy with all the research he's done on Kate Beckett the past couple of days.
He gives the woman behind the front counter his name and tells her that Detective Esposito asked him to come down. She tells him to take a seat while she notifies Homicide. He does as she says and sits down, but only at the edge of the seat.
A couple of minutes later, the elevator dings and he sees a cop in a uniform walk out and towards him. "Richard Castle?" he asks. Rick nods. "Follow me."
Rick jumps up and follows the police officer back into the elevator. He tries to start some small talk with the man, but he doesn't respond, so he falls silent and waits for the elevator to reach its destination. The Homicide floor is buzzing with activity. There are cops everywhere. He's led to two desks where he finds Detectives Ryan and Esposito.
"Castle!" Detective Ryan exclaims, "Good to see you!" Rick shakes his hand, but stares at the cop. He looks tired, like they've been working all night. He just called him Castle. He kind of likes it, but there's a certain companionship to it that unnerves him. He's just a person of interest on their case, why would they treat him like their friend?
"How's the investigation going?" Rick asks.
"Slow, but we're making progress," Detective Esposito tells him. He walks towards a whiteboard that has all the information for the case on it. "We've established a pretty solid timeline. Because of traffic cam footage, we know the exact time of the… disappearance." His hesitation doesn't fool Rick, but he thinks he understands the man's need to try and keep it objective.
"Is that the van in which she was taken?" Rick asks and points to a blurry picture of a black van.
"Yes, it is," Detective Ryan says. "I've tried tracking it from traffic cam to traffic cam, but I lost it after about three blocks. A couple of the cams are broken, so it could've gone anywhere."
"But that was the first thing we did when we found the van," Detective Esposito says. "What kept us up last night is this." He flips the board around, revealing a list of names. "These are family members of the Italian mob nor involved with it directly. All we have to do now is look for properties in their name."
"But there are like fifty names on here!" Rick exclaims.
"That's where you come in," Detective Esposito says.
"Still want to help?" Detective Ryan asks and Rick nods. "Good, come with us."
They lead him into a conference room. The table's completely covered in files. "We have to go through all of these," Detective Ryan says. "LT here has agreed to help us, between the four of us, we should be able to get through them fairly quickly."
The next hour is mostly spent in silence. Once in a while, one of them will comment on something, but nothing really sticks.
"I might have something," LT says. "The cousin of this guy Belluci owns a warehouse on 14th Street, but she lives in Toronto now, so why would she have a warehouse here?"
"What's the woman's name?" Detective Esposito asks.
"Lucille Fowler. Maiden name Ricci," LT answers.
"Ryan, see if you can find any link between Belluci and his cousin," Detective Esposito tells his partner, who nods and leaves the room.
"So now what?" Rick asks.
"Now we keep looking through the rest of the files, see if we can find any other places. Just in case this doesn't pan out," Detective Esposito says. Rick nods and returns to the file he had been checking.
This must be the most boring work he's ever done. He always thought that being a cop was exciting, but this is mind-numbing. But he doesn't complain, he just wants to help them find Kate and he'd do anything for that, so he keeps his mouth shut and keeps going.
After what seems an eternity, Detective Ryan re-enters the room. "Matteo Belluci calls his cousin every week, so they've definitely kept in touch. Also, I've found a money stream going from Belluci's account to hers. Or, to be specific, to her husband's, Andrew Fowler."
"Okay, that should be enough for a warrant," Detective Esposito says.
"Really? Your partner is missing and you still need a warrant to possibly save her?" Rick says incredulously.
"Yeah," Detective Ryan sighs. "Welcome to the NYPD, we need a warrant for everything."
"Let's just hope that we can find a judge who can sign off on it within an hour," Detective Esposito says. Rick can tell that both detectives are itching to get moving and save their partner.
"I have to make a call," Rick suddenly says and leaves the room. He unlocks his phone and quickly finds the right phone number.
"Ricky! To what do I owe this pleasure?" Judge Markway answers his phone.
"Hey!" Rick answers enthusiastically. "Glad to have reached you! We missed you at last week's poker game. We should play golf sometime soon. Catch up. Hey, listen. I am trying to help two NYPD detectives find their partner and we think we might have found her, but they need a warrant. Any chance you can sign it?"
"You're helping the NYPD?" the judge says incredulously.
"Yeah, who knew I would sink so low?" Rick jokes.
"All right, Ricky. What's it about?" the judge says after a chuckle.
"The cousin of a guy in the Italian mob owns a warehouse, and we think that there's a good chance that's where Detective Beckett is," Rick explains. Calling Kate by her title suddenly sounds strange, but he tries to keep it professional.
"What does this detective mean to you?" the judge asks.
"What do you mean?"
"Come on, Ricky! You're not just helping the cops… There must be something in it for you!"
"I… They…" he stammers. He tells himself to get it together. "I met her once, I'd like to get to know her better."
He can hear a soft chuckle at the other end of the line. "Fine, you can have your warrant, Rick. Detective Beckett is one of the best, I'd hate to lose her."
Rick frowns, Markway knows Kate? He's overcome with the desire to start asking him questions about her, but he refrains. They need to find her. That's the first priority.
"Thank you, I owe you," he says.
"Hardly. You do owe me that golfing trip," the judge says.
"You're on," Rick agrees. "Talk to you soon." He hangs up the phone and goes back into the conference room where Detectives Ryan and Esposito and LT are staring at him.
"You've got your warrant," he says.
"What? Already?" Detective Ryan says.
"I know a guy." He flashes a smile, reminding them of who he is. "Now get that piece of paper and go save your partner."
(…)
For the first time in days, some of the fog lifts from Kate Beckett's brain. Her entire body hurts. Her lungs burn, every movement feels heavy and nearly impossible. She still pushes herself up from the ground. She refuses to look weak, so she eases back against the wall, even though every muscle screams at her to lay back down. She doesn't know if anyone is watching, but she doesn't want to take the chance.
After a minute, she lifts her head from the spot where it was leaning against the wall and inspects her surroundings. There's not much to see. Bare, grey walls. That's basically all she can see in the dim light coming from a flickering lamp.
She takes a deep breath and ignores her burning lungs as she tries not to let the panic overtake her. She's sure that Ryan and Esposito are looking for her. She's sure that her partners will do everything in their power to find her.
On her next breath, she tries to remember what happened to her. She remembers that she was on her way home from… Shit. He probably doesn't even care that she's missing. She's just another notch on his bedpost now. He seemed sweet that morning, though. His coffee was to die for. She wonders if she should return the mug he gave her. She probably should.
But that's for her to worry about when she gets out of here. For now, she tries to remember what happened when she got ambushed. She knows that was drugged, the fogginess that still rests on her thoughts is evidence of that. But why? And what happened afterwards?
She thinks back to the moments she was conscious for the torture they put her through with a wince. They were asking her questions… One question in particular, but the fog in her mind prevents her from remembering what the question was. She does remember that the men were speaking with an accent. It sounded Italian, but she doesn't trust her own senses right now, so she can't be sure.
She remembers the water surrounding her, the ice in her lungs. Every time they pulled her out, she was fighting for a breath while they asked her that one question.
Who?
It suddenly comes back to her. The question they'd keep asking her was, "Who?"
She realizes that she knows the answer, but she also knows that she didn't share that knowledge with her attackers and that pissed them off. It caused them to shove her head under water again and again until she blacked out once more.
Who are they after? What was the information the journalist, Leyton Hayes, died for? She knows that she knows, but her fuzzy mind refuses to provide her with the answer. She tries to remember the case.
Leyton Hayes was brutally murdered about two weeks ago, after being tortured with the same methods she has endured the past couple of days. She remembers that they went too far with him and it became his death.
She now realizes that they've gone easy on her. Maybe because they thought they might get the information out of her eventually, or maybe just because they didn't want to kill a cop. Either way, she's thankful to still be alive.
The fog in her mind slowly retreats as the time passes and she tries to recall any other details. Anything that can give her a clue as to where she is. But her drugged mind doesn't seem to have stored the information she needs. All it gives her is a pair of blue eyes.
She focuses on them for a moment, remembers the way they looked when darkened with arousal, remembers the way they looked when they opened in the morning and focused on her. The wonder in them when she locked eyes with him that morning. He had looked at her as if she was the entire world to him.
She shakes her head, deciding her drugged mind must be playing tricks on her. There's no way that Richard Castle could be interested in her for more than sex. Yes, he was very sweet that morning, but she's sure there was nothing more behind it. She's sure that he has every intention to never see her again.
Some shouting somewhere far away pulls her out of her thoughts. Another shout, followed by a gunshot, follows suit closer by. She recognizes some voices, though she cannot place them. The urge to do something fills her, so she gathers all of her strength and, with the help of the wall behind her, she drags herself to her feet.
"Beckett!" a voice calls out somewhere far away.
"Here!" she tries to yell back, but the pain in her throat holds her back. Her voice is hoarse from disuse and all she manages is a screech she's sure doesn't reach past the heavy door. Her throat burns as she clears it and tries again. This time it sounds a little more confident as she ignores the pain.
"Ryan!" she hears someone yell just outside the door. "Over here!"
A lot of heavy footsteps approach the door. "Beckett, you there?" she hears Ryan's voice call out.
"Ryan!" It's all she can think to say.
"We're going to take down the door, just step back!" he instructs.
Take down the door? He doesn't think that he can just kick a metal door in, right? Her fuzzy mind refuses to understand. She hasn't moved from the spot she rose to, so there's no stepping back either. On instinct, she braces herself to her wall that's holding her up.
Then there's a loud bang and a flash. They blew the door out. Well, that's one way, she thinks.
Through the smoke, a body appears. Ryan. Then he's by her side and cuts her ties. She finally moves from her spot and hugs him. He holds her up as he leads her outside to the car. Somewhere, she registers the curious looks of the cops around her. She must look like hell, but she doesn't care.
The fresh air burns in her irritated throat. "Here," Ryan says quietly when they reach the car and carefully helps her sit down. "The EMTs are on their way."
Esposito comes over soon after that, telling her that he was on the other side of the warehouse taking down some of the scumbags that took her. It's a little hazy to her, but she nods anyway.
From that moment on, everything is extremely slow yet extremely fast and before she really realizes it, she's on her way to the precinct.
"There's someone who's very anxious to see you," Espo says with a little smirk. Beckett frowns. Who could that be? Lanie? Her father? She's sure that both of them are very anxious to see her, but neither of them is someone to be smirking over.
She decides not to give in to his teasing. She will get her answer fast enough. All she has to do is walk through the elevator doors and onto homicide floor.
Upon doing so, she is swept up in a hug by the last person she expected to see.
(…)
"God, I'm so glad you're okay," he breathes into her ear. He's so relieved that see her again. Even if she is stiff in his embrace.
He studies her when he releases her. Her shoulders are slightly slumped from what he suspects is exhaustion. Her skin is pale and she is shaking slightly. But her eyes are what get to him as she looks up at him. For a second, they are haunted. But then it's gone and she straightens her back and says, "I have to speak to my captain."
She walks past him and enters Captain Montgomery's office. Ryan follows her and the door shuts firmly behind them and stays closed for a long time.
He gets led to a chair by Esposito who explains to him what happened at the warehouse.
"I've just got one question," he says at the end of Esposito's story. "What was the information Leyton Hayes was protecting? And now Beckett?" Her last name feels foreign on his tongue, but it doesn't seem appropriate to call her Kate right now.
Esposito sighs and shoots a glance towards the captain's office. "I might as well tell you," he mutters. "One of our own has infiltrated the Italian mob. They have figured out that they've got a mole and since Leyton Hayes seemed to know who their mole was, they tried to get it out of him. Obviously, Hayes died before telling them a name. Beckett figured out that the mole was one of us, a cop, during the investigation. With his help we were able to arrest the killer. They must've realized that we've had help from the inside to solve our case and since Beckett was head investigator…" he trails off, letting Rick finish that sentence by himself.
In that moment, the door to Captain Montgomery's office opens and Ryan and Kate come out followed by the captain himself, who is telling her, "Go home, Detective. I don't want to see you here for at least three days."
He sees her nod, but the set of her jaw tells him that she's not happy with the order. The sigh that follows when she approaches her desk confirms his suspicion. She'd rather work than sit at home, doing nothing.
He carefully approaches her, clears his throat to remind her of his presence. She turns around and gives him a weak smile. "You still here?" she asks.
"Detective Esposito told me what happened. Are you okay?" he asks, knowing it's the most stupid question ever. Of course she's not okay. She's been tortured.
"I'm fine," she tells him and turns back to her desk, where she's packing a bag. "You should go home."
He sighs and nods. She's right. He should go home. They don't even know each other. It's none of his business. So he turns around and is already halfway through the precinct when he hears her voice call him back.
"Mr. Castle?" she says and he turns back around. She smiles at him. It's feeble, but it's there. "Thank you." He nods and offers a smile in return. He steps into the elevator, on his way to return to his kid.
