It's been a few days since Esposito showed up unexpectedly with the boxes of case files for Castle, but the two detectives have yet to find the opportunity to break away from their own duties to meet up for an ambush of the warehouse fire investigator. Not only is Castle working a new case – a legitimately warm one assigned by his captain - but Esposito is dodging a partner who remains in the dark and Castle can't admit the urgency created by the gorgeous ghost who has become his house guest. With more honest communication all around, they might have found a new lead by now, but their respective secrets have them stuck.
Being stalled on that front does give him time to stop by the law firm at which Jim Beckett works, a couple of easy lies allowing him a few minutes of conversation with the man without arousing suspicion about anything otherworldly. And while he has no idea what he was like before he lost his daughter, Castle is able to report back to Beckett that her dad looks healthy and is keeping busy with a full caseload. Maybe more importantly, Jim wears the watch Beckett had kept for years; Castle had specifically been on the lookout for it after learning its history and suggested to Beckett that her dad seems strong enough to save his own life now.
Family welfare updates aside, Castle's feelings about having to keep their investigation on hold are complicated and growing more so by the day. Late nights and little sleep have afforded him the chance to learn more about Beckett, from the horrific dark of the rabbit hole that claimed her life to the quiet dreams she shared with him when she reminisced about wanting to be the first female Chief Justice. In turn, she's stayed close as he's revealed the disaster of his divorce and the bright light in his daughter that will always carry him forward. She seemed surprised by his admission that he'd wanted to be a writer before he'd joined the academy, then opened up about how much mystery novels and their tidy endings had helped her through the aftermath of her mother's death.
He knows there is so much more to Beckett's story, and wants to spill all of his, but the ache vibrating from her very presence reminds him that he has to push forward until these cases are solved. Growing too close to her won't help anyone at all.
And as he shares a late dinner with Alexis, most of his Chinese takeout lukewarm after too much thinking and too little eating, he realizes hiding his emotions from his daughter will take more effort than he has bothered to give.
"Is it a huge case or a beautiful woman?"
Castle does his best to blink away the surprise at her question, then holds up his fork. "It's orange chicken. Want some?"
"Nice try," she snorts. "What has you so distracted?"
"Distracted?"
"And stalling. Interrogation 101 suggests that a suspect parroting a detective's questions is probably hiding something and stalling for more time."
"Why would I be hiding and stalling?"
"Still parroting, dad," she points out. "You obviously don't have to tell me what's going on, but you can barely eat, you've checked your phone more times that I can count, and you keep staring off into the corner of the living room with a really strange look on your face, like you can't decide whether you're happy or sad. I've hardly been home lately and I've still noticed the changes in you, so whatever it is must be pretty significant."
She's wrong about very little, of course. He's awaiting word from Esposito about whether they can duck out during lunch tomorrow for a trip to where Rod Halstead is stationed; their planned chat should be short enough to squeeze into a break without attracting suspicion. And he can't really help but stare at Beckett, his partner having claimed a spot next to the window where the curtain has been inched to the side for her benefit. She spends her time gazing at the city, he spends his gazing at her. So, yeah, it's all bittersweet and more than a little significant.
"It's a big case involving a beautiful woman."
Alexis winces. "Yikes. A double whammy for you. Is the woman the victim or the loved one left behind?"
"Both," Castle responds, rushing to clarify when his daughter's brows furrow. "Her mother was killed first, then she was killed years later. Obviously, I want to solve every case, get justice for every victim, but this has hit me hard and I'm sorry for being so out of it."
"No need to apologize. What you do is hard, really difficult, and you've been burned out for a while now." She gets up to toss her empty containers in the trash, then wraps her arm around his shoulders. "What happened to this woman is terrible, but I'm glad you care enough to fight for her. Just try to take care of yourself, too."
He nods, grateful for a daughter who has weathered the past year with little trouble, even as he has struggled to find a new normal. Then he looks over to Beckett and remembers that 'normal' doesn't describe much of anything right now.
It's early afternoon the next day when Castle and Esposito interrupt the arson investigator, Rod Halstead, and hand over the copy of warehouse fire report. The good news is that he remembers the fire after only a minute of reviewing his notes; the bad news is that he has nothing else to offer. Halstead tries to return the report, but Castle pushes it back.
"This report hasn't been altered in any way since you filed it?"
The investigator takes another look, just enough to humor them. "No, why?"
Esposito jumps in before Castle can. "Mr. Halstead, this is very important. Was there anything that you didn't put in that report? Anything that might indicate suspicious activity?"
"Well, if there was anything suspicious, Detective, it would be in the report. Power surge to the junction box. One in a million event."
He hands the file back to Castle, far more forcefully than he had the first time around, and Castle accepts it before turning to leave. It's only when he starts to take a step that he realizes Esposito isn't done asking questions.
"So, at no point did anyone pressure you into keeping information out of that report?"
"You are way out of line here," Halstead growls, looking at Castle with a silent command to get Esposito the hell off his turf.
Unfortunately, Esposito has no intention of moving and Castle doesn't know him well enough to force him; calling more attention to themselves with an all-out brawl seems like a bad idea.
Of course, Esposito running his mouth isn't much better.
"I'm out of line? I'm not the one that falsified that report."
"Get out of my station," comes another demand.
"Who set that fire? Who had you covering—"
"Get out!"
Whether it's the undisguised threat in the investigator's tone or whether Esposito finally grasps the severity of the situation all on his own, Castle is finally able to tug him away and mumble some sort of apology to Halstead as they hurry toward Esposito's car. The two men are hopped up on adrenaline and disappointment, and the key is barely in the ignition when Castle tries to speak.
"Look, Espo—"
"Not a word, bro," he mutters, shaking his head. "I don't want to hear a fucking word."
And so they remain silent, even the radio kept off and the windows rolled shut, the sound of the world muted as much as is possible in the city. Castle limits his fidgeting from the passenger seat, worried that any movement could get him tossed onto the street and reflects instead on the failure of their interview attempt and where they can possibly go from here. Beckett's sure to be upset, and if there's anything he's come to realize in the short time he's known her, it's that she deserves to rest in peace.
Today's dead end won't help with that.
After several minutes, Esposito eases toward the 12th and Castle catches a glimpse of the man positioned in front of the building. For a moment he wonders whether he has time to duck, or possibly roll out of the car and into traffic, but he decides to speak up instead, his warning important enough to interrupt the imposed quiet.
"Looks like your partner is waiting for us," Castle announces. "And I would have guessed you carry most of the anger around here, but he seems pretty pissed off right now."
Esposito doesn't bother responding and Castle can't decide whether the man's focus has been pulled toward Kevin Ryan or whether it's still staring back at how terribly they handled things with the arson investigator. It isn't until they're parked and Esposito slams his door shut before Castle has even opened his that he realizes there's about to be another confrontation. He hurries to join them, both as a fan of workplace drama and as an acknowledgment of his role in this mess, catching the end of Ryan's high-pitched question.
"— how the hell am I supposed to cover your ass when I don't even know what the hell you're up to?"
"I wasn't sure you'd be willing to cover it at all, bro. You haven't exactly been stepping up to help me on this, so I'm stuck working with a stranger."
Castle's pretty sure he should be offended, but Esposito isn't wrong. He shrugs innocently and asks, "What happened, Ryan?"
"Apparently two guys went rogue and interrogated a fire investigator in his own station," Ryan answers with a glare. "As you can imagine, the hardworking investigator without a single proven blemish on his record was just a bit angry at the sudden appearance by strangers and their need to harass him with an unfounded accusation."
"Okay, it may not have been the best approach," Castle agrees, "but it was all we had to go on, and there's something important in what you just said. There's no proven blemish on his record, so we were out for proof and – wait, how did you know where we were?"
"Halstead called Gates," Esposito mutters.
"Your captain. Shit."
Ryan levels Castle with another look. "Shit is about right, yeah. As in, that's what my partner has been feeding me for the past few days. And that's what I just had to wade through in an attempt to save his ass with Gates."
"I get it and I'm sorry, man," Esposito says, the apology mostly sincere, even as it holds on to a thread of anger. "I should have involved you, but you've made it pretty clear you wanted to stay away from Beckett's case and I needed the chance to do something. I know it won't bring her back, but working her mother's case wasn't gonna bring her back either and you didn't see Beckett bailing on that."
"You make it sound like I don't care, Javi, and you know better," Ryan argues. "I care enough that I want to keep us safe until we have a legit lead, not some manufactured allegation about a warehouse fire from 12 years ago. Beckett didn't bail on her mom's murder and it got her killed. I'd rather you and I not end up the same way."
"Fine, then Castle and I will do the heavy lifting and you can wait until the coast is clear."
Castle raises a hand and attempts to quiet them both. "Okay, kids, we're not gonna get anywhere by arguing about who loved Beckett more than whom, and I'm sure both of you meant the world to her. Ryan, what exactly happened in there with Gates?"
"Like I said, the arson investigator you ambushed called her to complain about you two. Sounds like he assumed you're his partner," Ryan muttered, nodding to Castle. "The good news is that Gates has no idea who you are, and Esposito is a common enough name that I was able to convince her the investigator had the wrong precinct. She thinks you went out to grab something to eat. Hope it was good."
"Unless Halstead pushes the complaint any further, we should be in the clear," Esposito points out.
"Clear to do what, exactly?" Ryan snaps back.
And while Castle doesn't want to admit it, the question is a good one. Most of the people they'd interrogate are already dead, the money trails seem to have faded into nothing, and they can't request official help from the NYPD when they don't know who else could be compromised. Both he and Beckett had hoped this one small lead would be the way to get the case back on track, because neither of them can figure out what other angle to pursue.
"I have to get back to work," Castle says with a frown, "so let's regroup and talk later. All of the case details are still pretty new to me, so I'll review the notes again and see if I can figure out—"
"You gave him the files? Jesus, Javi, maybe you should post a banner outside to tell the world you're digging into a huge murder conspiracy and then leave your door unlocked overnight to make it even easier for them to shut you up."
Castle opens his mouth to defend himself – or Esposito, perhaps – but thinks better of it and just offers a quick wave as he backs away from the bickering partners.
He'll have enough trouble of his own when he returns home.
There are probably several drawbacks to conducting a triple homicide investigation alongside a dead woman, but highest on Castle's list tonight is his inability to offer any real consolation as Beckett crumbles onto his living room floor, her disappointment too heavy for her slight shoulders to bear. She lived years with little hope, and certainly didn't gain much more in the few months following her murder, but he thinks some unwanted optimism may have crept her way when she stumbled into his apartment. And while she'd told him how hard they'd already worked her mother's case – and how obsessed she'd been for years – he knows some part of her wanted to believe that a new set of eyes on the files would the break they needed.
He sighs as he sits to face Beckett, all too aware that he's broken nothing but the woman who haunts his days as much as his nights. They talk for quite a while, whispers that won't wake his sleeping daughter, half-hearted as they bounce theories back and forth, most of the ideas old and set aside long ago.
It's too much to ask, actually impossible within their phantom reality, but Castle wants to solve the riddle behind a twelve-year conspiracy and take her out to celebrate at his favorite bar. He wants to whisk her away from all of this and buy her the perfect cup of coffee and tell her dumb jokes until she finally gives up a smile. He wants to get justice and tease her about who is the better detective and congratulate her after she kicks his ass at the gym and make her laugh when he makes a walrus face with french fries in the middle of their lunch break.
Really, he just wants her.