Here's another one! Be sure to leave a review when you're finished; kind of like paying a toll for the subway.
Disclaimer: Since you're not having them do anything until January 9th, Andrew M, I'll be borrowing them for a while. Hope you don't mind.
"Okay, great. Thanks Espo." Beckett hung up and turned to Castle. "They ran the sketch through the criminal database. They're faxing that and the kidnapping info now."
"Won't Gates know that we've gone off the map by now?" Castle asked.
"Screw Gates – we're going to find her." Beckett said determinedly. She picked up the pieces of paper that Castle's fax machine spit out and walked back through his office to the coffee table. Sitting down in the couch, she spread out the papers before her. She absentmindedly tucked her hair behind her ears, frowning when she felt the tangles in there.
They'd fallen asleep on the couch last night – or, rather, that morning – and woken up again around seven, only to start working again. It was now seven thirty, and Beckett felt wide awake, but she also felt like she needed a shower.
Not that she was going to ask Castle to borrow his.
Oh God, the images that thought jump-started in her mind…
Something else that she was feeling this morning was a gut-wrenching fear. It had been a slow build yesterday but she'd managed to ignore it. Now, however, she knew they were dealing with professionals, people who did this for a living. Ever since then her insides had been twisting themselves into knots that not even an Eagle Scout could undo.
If something happened to Alexis, so help her…
She couldn't even think of something horrible enough to do to the people who took her.
Beckett was surprised at how fearful and protective she was feeling, but even more surprised by the shame. She felt like she failed, which was absurd. There was nothing she could have done to prevent this; Alexis wasn't even her responsibility!
But it felt like she was.
The only thing that Beckett could think off right then was pulling Alexis into her arms and hugging her with all of her strength, of never taking her eyes off of her again, of keeping her close and never letting her go.
Um, wasn't Castle supposed to be the one freaking out like this?
Not that he wasn't; oh, no. After waking up tangled together on the couch (awkward, to say the least, but he'd quickly diffused the tension with tiger jokes), Castle had immediately jumped back into the case. The nervousness of yesterday had been replaced with determination, but every five minutes he still broke in with some threat against the abductors or a fresh worry about Alexis, the latest of which had been concern over the fact that she would be alone with a boy.
"Castle, I'm sure she's fine, and the other girl will be with them as well." Beckett had assured him. "Speaking of which, you might want to call the parents, get whatever information you can. I'm sure they've received a letter like yours by now, and we want to stop them before they freak out."
So now Castle was on the phone with Mr. Manson, chatting amicably. It always amazed her how well he could handle people. While she was good at handling suspects and grieving family members, Castle handled people in general with a deft hand.
It made how inept he was with her infinitely amusing, and a smile played across her lips. As she watched, he ran a hand through his hair and said goodbye to Mr. Manson, then hung up the phone. Castle turned to look at her, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.
"They saw the letter this morning when a housemaid saw it lying on the rug where someone had pushed it through the mail slot, and they're assuming it was dropped off sometime last night. I convinced him to let us interview him and his wife and see the letter." Castle explained.
Beckett allowed a smile to cross her face for the first time in twenty four hours. "It's amazing how you do that."
"That's not the only thing I'm amazing at." Castle joked, wiggling his eyebrows.
Beckett bit her lower lip to hold back her laughter. "C'mon and help me look over these." She said, gesturing for him to sit down.
Castle did so, sitting so close to her that their knees were touching. Beckett swallowed hard as her mouth had suddenly gone dry. She blinked, and tried to concentrate.
"Okay, so here's what the boys sent over. The kidnapping matches several previous missing persons cases over the past eight years – each time the kidnapping of two minors, a boy and a girl. They didn't always use a museum, but it was always a public place where the victims were a part of a larger group. It was usually a school group, but not always. The victims always vanished, however, in the restrooms."
She pulled out a list of witness statements to review. "In every single case, witnesses stated that the victim went to the restroom and they didn't see them again. In a couple of cases witnesses noticed a cleaning crew or something similar entering or leaving the restroom but no one ever paid attention to it."
"That's the problem with uniforms – people tend to only see the outfit and not the person." Castle observed. "They saw the cleaning crew the way you see furniture or a tree."
Beckett nodded. It was one of the most annoying parts of a case; people recognized the uniform, be it a hotel maid or waitress, but no one remembered the face. It was like those people weren't even people to them, just faceless machines performing a duty or fulfilling a task.
Beckett continued. "In every case, the parents of the victims received a ransom letter exactly like yours, only with the name changed." She passed him a carbon copy of one of the ransom letter. Castle nodded, his mouth tightening. A fierce need to comfort him swept through her, and Beckett quickly picked up another paper.
"Once the parents had left the letter in the slot, they received a second letter." She passed him that copy as well. "This letter had more variation, but retains the same professionalism. It basically gives instructions as to how much money to leave and where, ending with a vague threat about going to the cops."
"What happened if the person didn't follow instructions?" Castle asked.
"Eight cases of kidnappings were called in. The first two were six months apart, then next one was a year later, then another one a year and a half after that, then another one six months after that…" Beckett trailed off.
"These people are professionals who work on a time table; they most likely stage kidnappings six months apart, but only a few were reported for fear of the harm they would inflict on the kids." Castle said, catching her meaning.
Beckett nodded. "So we have at least eight cases – sixteen kidnappings – that were reported, but if we go by the six month timetable that means there were sixteen cases – thirty two kidnappings."
"Now thirty five." Castle reminded her darkly. He took a deep breath and then stumbled into his question. "What happened when the families reported the incident?"
Beckett looked over the reports, and her breath caught in her throat. "If the families still complied with the demands, no funny business, the victims were returned safely. But two times…" She remembered she needed to breath and took in a breath that made her chest shudder. "Two times the families were advised not to give in to the demands. They were sent the child's finger. On one of the times the family gave into the demands after that and got their child back, minus one finger. The other time… The other time, they were sent a condolence letter. The child was never seen again."
She handed him the picture of the victim, a fifteen year old brunette named Claudia Miller. There was also a copy of the condolence letter. Her heart clenched as she watched Castle read it.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Miller;
Please allow us to express our sincere condolences at the loss of your child, Claudia. We understand this must be a difficult time for you, and our hopes and prayers will be with you at this time of great sadness.
"Those fucking…" Castle's voice was strangled.
"I know." Beckett whispered hoarsely. She had a sudden image of receiving that letter, with Alexis' name in there instead of Claudia's… Her mind only spiraled from there, conjuring up images from every crime scene she'd ever been to, only it was Alexis who was the victim instead of some John or Jane Doe.
She didn't realize that she was crying until the felt the warm liquid running down her face and taste the wet salt on her tongue. Castle turned towards her, looking shocked.
"Beckett?" He asked, surprised.
She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.
"Kate…" His voice was gentle but raw and cracking.
He pulled her into a hug, and she started to cry in earnest, sobs making her chest heave as she buried her face into his shoulder and neck. After a moment she managed to get her breathing under control and she felt something splash onto her face. Looking up, she saw that Castle's eyes were rimmed red and he was also crying. She pulled back, still in his arms but facing him.
"Oh, Rick…" She felt awful. Here she was, letting him comfort her, when it was his daughter who was taken. Whatever he was going through was ten times worse than her pain.
"I'm sorry. I'm so, sorry, Rick, I just…" Beckett tried to keep her voice from squeaking and failed. "I should be supporting you, not the other way around."
"No, it's okay." Castle said, squeezing her shoulders. "It's comforting to know that someone else cares as much about Alexis as I do."
Beckett nodded, not trusting herself to speak. "It's just… you've known her ever since she was born. You've been there for her, raised her, loved her… I feel like an intruder stealing all the sympathy."
"Hey; misery loves company!" Castle joked weakly.
Beckett nodded. "We should, uh, get back to reviewing these. I figure once we have it all mapped out we'll call in the boys to plan our strategy."
Castle nodded. "But when we get her back I reserve the right to break those bastards' noses."
Beckett smiled. "How about we each get to take down one, okay?"
"Fair enough." Castle said, nodding.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
They had developed a kind of weird pattern.
Whenever one of them had to use the restroom, they pounded on the door. The man would come back, gun in hand, and escort them. The hallway was kept dark, and they were shepherded into the bathroom so quickly that they didn't really get the chance to see anything else. The bathroom itself was small and with a window too tiny for them to fit through. It was in severe need of a facelift, but it was clean and well stocked.
Every three hours, the man would come back, only with a friend – a short, kind of squat man with a stretched-out face and elongated nose. They handed the kids food from some fast food joint; the first time it was burgers, the next, pizza. They were told that requests were welcome, and so Benny asked for Chinese.
That was why they were now sitting on the floor next to the mattress, eating Chinese take-out. Alexis was able to use the chopsticks, but both Benny and Emmett had to use forks.
"Here," She said, reaching over to where Emmett was attempting (again) to use the chopsticks. "Let me show you."
She patiently helped him with the bothersome utensils, positioning his hands properly and guiding him on how to use them. Pretty soon, Emmett was using them almost as well as Alexis was.
"You're a good teacher." He said, sending her another one of those edgy grins that made her heart do more flips then a Cirque de Soleil trapeze artist.
"Want me to teach you?" Alexis asked Benny.
"Nope, I'm good." Benny said, shaking her head. "We must be somewhere in the hub of NYC for them to have access to this many take-out places. This stuff is good!"
"At least it proves they didn't take us to the suburbs; we could still be anywhere in NYC." Alexis reminded her. "There are plenty of pockets with restaurants that will do take-out orders, even if they're independent or family owned."
"Good point." Emmett said, nodding. "I love going to those little independent places, discovering new hole-in-the-wall restaurants and stuff. There's this one place that serves a mixture of Japanese and Italian – it's amazing."
"It sounds delicious." Alexis grinned. "That's what makes NYC so unique, all these tiny pockets. You never know what you'll find."
"If you think it sounds good, wait until you try the green tea ravioli; they have this lobster-shitake filling that's the bomb." Emmet's grin widened. "I'll have to take you some time."
Alexis closed her eyes and hummed, thinking of how good that sounded. Delicious food, talking with Emmett…
Wait just a minute.
Wouldn't that be classified as a date?
No. Oh, no. This was not happening.
She didn't want to go on a date with Emmet, did she?
Oh God, yes, yes she did.
She needed to talk to Beckett.
And there she was with the Beckett thing again!
Fuck, her head was screwed on weird.
"Is there any chance that I could interrupt the eye-sex to ask someone to pass me the fried rice?" Benny asked, gesturing with her fork.
Alexis' eyes flew open in time to see Emmett's face freeze. A red blush crept up his neck as he handed the food over to his sister.
"I don't know what you're talking about; we were discussing restaurants." He said defensively.
"Sure." Benny said, drawing out the word and rolling her eyes. "And I'm Harry Houdini."
"If you were, you could get us out of here." Emmett muttered.
They finished up the rest of their meal in silence, putting the containers and utensils back in the bags they'd been delivered in and sticking them at the bottom of the stairs. They'd give them to their captors to throw away in the morning.
"It's so weird how…" Benny yawned. "Professional they are."
"You're pretty sleepy for someone who's done nothing all day." Emmett teased.
"Hey, I did do something. I whipped your butt at wrestling." Benny reminded him.
Oh yeah, their wrestling matches earlier on the mattress to relieve boredom. Alexis could still recall the heated shiver that shot through her body when Emmett pinned her.
"It was a tie, because you cheated." Emmett reminded Benny.
"You never said no biting! Only no nails, hair or crotch hits." Benny defended.
"Yeah, because I didn't think you'd be depraved enough to bite me." Emmett scolded.
"Whatever. You tasted like Axe body spray. I'm going to bed." With that, Benny curled up in a corner of the mattress, taking the blanket that the short squatty guy had handed to them with her.
Emmett stood up and yanked on the chain, turning off the light and plunging them into darkness. Alexis sat along the wall, and he joined her.
"Fancy meeting you here." Emmett joked. There was just enough light coming through the slats in the windows above them for Alexis to see the outlines of his face. He was grinning.
"Fancy that." Alexis said, smiling back at him.
They sat like that in silence for a while, but it was companionable. Alexis hadn't realized until then just how comfortable and safe just sitting in silence with someone could be.
Eventually, she noticed that her needle mark was itching again. She reached back, scratching it at best she could, pushing her shirt up and arching her back as she did so. When she finished she glanced over at Emmett. She was startled to see the look on his face. His mouth was open in shock, but the look in his eyes was dark and hungry.
"What?" She asked.
Emmett shook his head, as if to shake something out. "Nothing, nothing at all." He said a little too quickly.
Alexis frowned. She was good at reading people, and she knew when they were lying to her. Emmett was definitely lying to her about something.
"Spit it out, Bansky." She warned him. "Or I'll force it out of you."
"I think you've spent too much time with that NYPD Detective." Emmett muttered.
Alexis' thoughts whirled around in her head like fallen leaves that the breeze had stirred. Was she really like Beckett?
"You've been holding something back from me, Emmett, and I'm not having that. Out with it." Alexis said as sternly as she could.
Emmett looked at her sideways for a moment, then back at the floor. Alexis was about to warn him again when he turned and kissed her.
She didn't see fireworks. She felt the damn exploding bits of light, felt them bursting in her brain as her nerves woke up, sending sparks of fire dancing up her body. She kissed him back, hungrily, opening her mouth and allowing him access. Their tongues danced and battled, ratcheting up the passion until it burned white-hot within her and it would have been too much if it hadn't felt so damn good.
After a good few minutes they pulled back breathlessly. Emmett's right hand was fisted in her hair while the other held her shoulder. Alexis' hands were gripping his shirt, bunching it up in her fists.
"I've wanted to do that for four years." Emmett said in a hoarse whisper. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb.
Well? How'd you like it? Normally I wouldn't tell you to support an addiction but if you could support mine and leave a review that would be awesome.
I'm not sure if it actually exists, but the Italian-Japanese restaurant with the ravioli was something I stole from Liv Wilder's fanfic. She's an amazing writer so be sure to check her out!
As with the previous chapters, this one is dedicated to the lovely Vesja – take a look at her great work! Keep it up, Sanne! xoxo
Oh, and I am issuing an official apology – in my previous chapter I accidentally put "Bransky" instead of "Banksy" for the street artist. My sincere apologies! Be sure to look up his work; he's absolutely amazing.