Chapter Three Lost and Gone

Disclaimer: don't own Castle, as usual~ so, here's the 3rd chapter. :)

1 hour ago at the underground parking

Castle just arrived at the parking lot when immediately feeling uneasy about this seemingly deserted place.
"Hello? " He asked, inspecting the place, "Anybody?"

No one answered but the chilly night breeze.

He was just about to regard this as a cruel joke, when a moan from behind a pillar caught his attention.

"Hey! Who's there?" He approached the source of the sound tentatively, only to find a man lying on the ground, his chest soaking wet with blood which was gushing from a bullet hole next to his heart.

Castle's startled. Some time ago, he was jerked out of his home by a sudden call claiming to have sources for Beckett's mother's murder; now, he ended up with a strange dying man.

"Are…are you alright?" Castle felt like a fool, realizing the poor man's of course not alright. As a matter of fact, it didn't even take an expert to know he's not gonna make it. Life was slipping away from him.

"Hey, hey…stay with me. I'm gonna get help." In a frantic manner, Castle was to dial 911, when the man got hold of his free hand with strength from nowhere, preventing him from doing that.

"The… th…hidden…side….poc…pocket."

Castle's eyes settled on the dying man's face, reaching his hands to where the latter indicated and pulling out a key wrapped in a piece of paper.

"What's this?"

"Some….thing you…n…need to know…"

"It's you who called me earlier? Who… who did this to you? What's the key for?" Castle gabbled nervously, begging him to stay conscious a little longer.

The man coughed several times before opening his tightly closed eyes and nodding. "You cannot…find…him. H..he's too…powerful to….take down…"

"Hang on, please. Stay with me! Tell me what you know about that damned case!"

The man didn't give a rejoinder, closing his eyes slowly while murmuring something undistinguished.

In shock, Castle staggered and fell back onto the ground, staring at the key and breathing wearily. His forehead was covered in sweat. He couldn't imagine what drama just unfolded here earlier.

At 10:30 that morning, Beckett is sitting at her desk, staring at Castle's usual seat, when Ryan storms into the precinct with some files in hand. She hopes that he's brought some good news. The case's depressing. No witnesses, no clues. They've searched through the whole area, only to find nothing but some signs of struggle that indicate their victim didn't die a peaceful death. Earlier, as the squad was waiting impatiently for the results of the autopsy, it hit their mind that running through the missing people record was the only thing that could be done.

"Guess what?" Ryan asks with an I-think-we-get-lucky look.

"Found a match?" Beckett looks up to meet his hopeful eyes.

"Yeah." He flips through the pages and locates the record which he then hands to her. "Turns out our Doe's Marvin Williams. Reported missing 5 days ago by his wife Christina. "

"Good job, finally we have a lead." She takes a deep breath, relieved at the fact that she doesn't have to spend the whole morning feeling disappointed and confused about Castle's still not showing up at the precinct. "Ryan, bring her in."

About 40 minutes later, a mournful woman was escorted into the break room by a police officer. Detective Beckett observes her carefully from her desk for a while, before rising from her seat, fully prepared to do her usual job of comforting the shattered families.

The bereft woman stands up upon Beckett's entering. She seems to have been crying all the way to the bull pen, her eyes red and swollen from her irritating tears.

"Mrs. Williams. I'm detective Beckett… Very sorry for your loss." She says sincerely, shaking her hands which are sweating.

"Thank you, detective. I…I just cannot believe that…" Her words not finished resolve into a silent sob. She sinks back into the couch she occupied minutes ago, both hands cupping her watery eyes to recompose herself.

"I know it's gonna be hard for you, Mrs. Williams, but I need to ask you a few questions. You think you can handle that?"

"Sure. I…I'll try" She answers under her breath, dabbing her eyes with a piece of tissue.

"So…what does Marvin do for a living?"

"He is…was…" Her words are punctuated with her subconscious incessant sucking of air. "was…a journalist at The Post."

"Did he have any enemies? Anyone that wants to do him harm?"

"He was a good person. But…" She holds her tongue, seeming to painstakingly recollect something in her mind.

"But what? Mrs. Williams?"

"Marvin was always a…responsible and trustworthy journalist. You know what I mean? He…he wrote what he saw, and said what he wanted. I kinda…worried about him. It's…it's a valuable as well as dangerous quality for a journalist. So…he got enemies, maybe big cheeses. Once we found a threat letter stuck under the door, saying…Marvin's gonna pay. But…dunno who. No one can pinpoint those disgusting people. "

Beckett takes down "threat" on her pad along with "revenge?" "What stories did he work on when you last saw him?"

"He…didn't talk much about work and didn't want to give me…exceeding worries. But Marvin's indeed deviant recently."

"Deviant how?"

"In the last three months, he often came home late and weary. And he even didn't come back sometimes, saying it's about work." Mrs. Williams indulges herself in the memory for a little while, as if by doing that her husband would come back tonight and embrace her in a warm hug.

Beckett has seen that look on many faces before, of people who wake up to find their loved ones lost and gone forever. "Okay. Thank you for coming by, Mrs. Williams."

"Please. Call me Christina. And…you'll catch the guy, right? " She asks almost timidly, her eyes shining with tears again.

"We'll do our best, Christina."

So, (timidly) what do you think? :)