Chapter 3

Dawn was not even close, but Kate was awake. Rick felt her stir in his embrace. "Kate, there's time," he soothed, stroking her hair. "Try to go back to sleep."

"I can't," Kate told him. "Every time I close my eyes I see his face on that screen, smirking at us. I need to get going. You can sleep a little longer."

"No," Rick replied, "if you're up, I'll go back to my place and change. I'll meet you at the precinct."

The first streaks of pink were just starting to appear in the sky when the team assembled. Beckett, Ryan, and Esposito were backed by a full strike force. Though cautioned by Beckett to stay back, Castle wore his vest. After a careful check was made for wires or sensors, the door was broken in. A stream of police in armor picked their way carefully to the second floor, alert for hidden hazards. They stopped at the sight of a body suspended from the ceiling by the same barbed wire that had been used at the scene of Tessa's murder, but there was no blood.

When photographs were taken and the body removed, it became evident that it was not a body at all, but a mannequin - with the face of Kate Beckett. "Those are my clothes!" Beckett exclaimed in horror. "He's been to my apartment and he took my clothes!"

Castle wanted to take Kate in his arms, but there were too many eyes, including those of Captain Gates. When they finally returned to her car, he was able to hold her hand unseen. "Kate," Castle said, "I'm going to make sure that Alexis stays in the dorm and I've sent Mother to the Hamptons. Until we get Tyson, I'm not staying at the loft and you shouldn't stay in your apartment. I want to take you to a safe place. I don't care if it's the Four Seasons or Motel Six, but we need somewhere Jerry Tyson doesn't know about."

"Castle, I had an apartment blown up by a serial killer," Kate protested, "I don't want to be driven from my home by another one."

Castle gave a quick glance to see if they were being observed and gently caressed Kate's cheek. "You won't be, it will just be until we catch this S.O.B."

At the precinct, Captain Gates announced what little good news there was. On the basis of the latest evidence, all charges were being dropped against Castle. It seemed a classic case of better late than never, since by this point no one seriously doubted his innocence, but it was welcome nonetheless. CSU had swept not only Tyson's lair, but Beckett's apartment for trace evidence. A finding of horsehair sparked a mad scramble to investigate stables.

Beckett and Castle immersed themselves in tracing sources for the mannequin Tyson had used to represent Kate. It was a frustrating afternoon and evening of dead ends.

Castle used a key card to access the elevator that would take him and Kate to their suite."Castle, we could have stopped for clothes, or toothbrushes," Kate told him.

"No need," Castle explained as the green light flashed and he opened the door. "The hotel provides all the amenities. The concierge can have some clothes brought up from the boutiques for us to choose from. You need some time to recharge and so do I. Let it happen, Kate. Let me do this for you, for both of us."

"Do you remember the last time we stayed in a luxury hotel together?" Kate asked.

"Of course," Castle answered, "when we went to L.A. to get Mike Royce's killer." Castle smiled wryly. "We had separate bedrooms."

"We almost didn't," Kate told him.

Castle quirked an eyebrow. "You went in your room and closed the door."

"I was scared. But I opened it again. I wanted to come to you, but by the time I tried, you were behind a closed door of your own."

"Wow, I wish I'd known," Castle told her. "It would have been a very different year"

"Did you know Mike wrote me a letter? He thought you and I had something special and he didn't understand why I was fighting it. But you did. When you told me I was hiding in nowhere relationships with men I didn't love because I was afraid to be happy, it was true."

"Are you still afraid?" Castle asked.

"Sometimes," Kate told him, holding his face in her hands, "but not right now."

It was a kiss born of need: the need of comfort, the need of closeness, the need to feel alive and cherished. Rick pulled Kate tightly against him, matching her need with his love. A blaze ignited between them, pulsing in time to the flames dancing in the fireplace. Kate drew her support from Rick's strong arms, her knees barely able to hold her, until Rick swept her up, laying her in the softness of the luxuriant bedding. There was no serial killer, no city, no world, only the two of them, so close as to be indistinguishable, moving to an ancient cadence. The joy of their loving could no longer be contained. It exploded, enveloping them in a cocoon of healing warmth.

With Kate drowsing in his arms, Castle studied the painting over the fireplace, showing a couple gazing at each other lovingly on an old style overstuffed settee. It was simply titled, "On the Horsehair Sofa." "Kate," he whispered excitedly, nudging her shoulder, "I think I know where Tyson is."

Kate opened her eyes and blinked in puzzlement. "How?"

"The horsehair," Castle explained. "Look at the painting! The horsehair didn't come from a stable, it came from old furniture! There was a museum that featured rooms furnished with antiques like that. It also had old uniforms and old movie props. My mother loved it. She said it made her feel young. But the place closed down when the recession hit. It's been closed ever since. It would be just the kind of place Tyson would choose."

"That's quite a leap based on some horsehair, Castle. I don't see Captain Gates buying it," Kate told him. "Ryan and Espo are much more used to your sudden leaps of illogic, but they needed to get some rest as much as we did, especially Espo. We can grab them in the morning to scope it out."

Rick pulled Kate against his bare chest as he kissed her temple. "Let's make it early."