Chapter Two

Captain Katherine Beckett had never been what you might call a believer. At just three years old, she had figured out for herself that Santa Claus didn't exist (though she'd let her parents believe that she awaited his arrival every Christmas Eve until she was nine). She never believed in the tooth fairy or the Easter Bunny and magic was just a thing that happened on stage, full of smoke and mirrors, and cards kept up sleeves.

In high school, her dates would bring her to horror movies in an attempt to scare her—like they did with all the other girls—and in the hopes that she would cuddle up to them for comfort. However, it was always them that squealed like banshees and pressed their faces into her shoulders as Kate sipped her soda and shoved giant handfuls of popcorn into her mouth.

She wasn't afraid of any ghosts.

Still, Kate Beckett had a certain fondness for the horror and supernatural genre. Her favorite authors were King and Poe and, in recent years, Richard Castle. Castle's books were about mediums who could talk to ghosts and help them solve their own murders or help them stop huge conspiracies that they'd been a casualty of. The plots were far-fetched, to say the least, and more than just a little ridiculous to think about, but Kate found herself eating them up, one after another, and wishing that she possessed many of the abilities that the protagonists in the novels did. Especially after the suspicious death of her mother, Johanna.

Johanna Beckett had been a lawyer, just as Kate's father had been. Their practices were different—Johanna being a civil rights lawyer and Jim more into business law—but they would often trade shop talk over dinner like they were talking about the weather. Kate would listen to her mother's cases and dream about one day joining her at her practice, digging for truth and justice. Perhaps, she used to think, she would rise a little bit higher and join the Supreme Court. That was the dream.

But, just like magic, dreams were often proven false and disappointing for Kate.

Johanna Beckett was found in an alley on January 9, 1999, stabbed to death and bled out on a pile of trash. Nothing was missing from her wallet and her wedding ring was still planted firmly on her finger, so they attributed it to gang violence and put the case to rest. The lead detective wouldn't even listen to Kate's foul play claims. There was nothing she could do but mourn the loss of the woman who'd once inspired her.

She was only 19 years old.

After Johanna's death, Kate changed both her major and the school she was attending, stepping away from Pre-Law at Stanford in favor of Criminal Justice at NYU. When she finished her undergrad, she went straight to the Police Academy and worked her ass off, becoming one of the star pupils in her class. After that, she joined the NYPD and quickly rose through the ranks.

Thirteen short years later and she was the captain of the Twelfth Precinct, located in Midtown Manhattan. The captain that had preceded her, Roy Montgomery, had encouraged her to take the Captain's exam before she'd even made lieutenant and she'd passed with flying colors. At just over thirty years old, Kate Beckett became the youngest female NYPD captain.

Her mother would be very proud—or so she liked to think.

A picture of Johanna and Jim Beckett sat on Kate's desk, right next to her computer. Both of her parents were smiling up at her from the frame, happy and bright-eyed, not a care in the world. The captain often found herself looking down at the photo, her heart heavy and a lump in her throat as she thought about where her parents would be if her mother's life had not been so violently taken from her; if her father had not found comfort in the bottom of a whiskey bottle…

"Captain?"

Kate tore her gaze away from the picture frame and turned to look up at her detective's face as he peered into the office. "Yes, Ryan?" she asked, straightening her back a little. Ryan had been on her team when she was a detective; both him and Javier Esposito had been 'her boys' and they'd all teased each other and made jokes and had gone out for drinks many a night after work, but thing had been…different. Since becoming captain, Kate could feel a rift building and widening between her and her detectives. She didn't like it.

"There's someone here to see you," Ryan informed her. "Says he has some important information for you. Also, he has a kid."

"A kid?" Beckett asked, furrowing her brow. She didn't know anybody with a kid.

"Yeah," Ryan affirmed. "Espo and I can watch her while you guys talk, though; she already has LT wrapped around her little finger." He smiled softly and Kate suddenly remembered that Ryan was a new father.

"She as cute as Sarah Grace?" Kate asked, after wracking her brain for half a second for her goddaughter's name (and making a note to buy the kid a gift very, very soon).

"Not quite," Ryan snorted. "But she's a close second, I gotta say."

Kate chuckled. "Go ahead and send him in," she said. "Oh, wait!" Before Ryan could leave, she stood, looking at him. "What's this guy's name?"

"Richard Castle," Ryan said. "I think he's, like, a writer or something." He shrugged and continued out the door, leaving Kate standing there, wide-eyed.

Richard Castle is here. Richard. Castle. Is here.

WHY IS RICHARD CASTLE HERE?

"Captain Beckett?"

Kate practically jumped out of her skin as the man himself poked his head into her office, looking all kinds of apprehensive as he stepped inside. She wondered how that could be possible when all she'd ever seen of the man was his cocky, charming grin and strut on Page Six. She fought hard to breathe and keep her cool as she cleared her throat and folded her hands in front of her.

"Yes, Mr. Castle?" she replied. "How can I help you?"

"Well," Castle coughed, stepping into the office and shutting the door behind him. Kate could swear she heard him mutter something under his breath before he continued: "I'm actually here to help you."

"Help me?" Kate asked, motioning for him to take his seat as she took her own behind her desk. Castle sat down and turned his head to the open space next to him, furrowing his brows almost angrily, before he turned back to her with the fakest smile Kate had ever seen. Kate glanced at the empty space, then back to him. "With what, Mr. Castle?"

"Um…well…I'm not sure how to say this…" He rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand and pressed his lips together, looking nervous. "I'm more than certain you won't believe me."

"Does it pertain to one of my cases?" Kate asked, leaning forward. Castle shook her head. "Okay…on a scale of 1 to 10, how important is it, really?"

"I'd say about 47," Castle replied. At her raised eyebrow he shrugged. "It's very important."

"Then just say it," Kate insisted. "I don't have all day."

Still looking uneasy, Castle turned to the empty space next to him once more, before sighing and turning back to Kate, who was eyeing him like he was insane (which he very well could have been).

"It's about your mother," Castle finally said and Kate felt every nerve in her body turn to ice as her eyes widened.

"What about her?" she asked, her voice little more than a whisper. Castle pressed his lips together again, apprehensively. Kate narrowed her eyes at him and leaned further in. "What about my mother, Mr. Castle?" she demanded.

Castle took a deep breath and simply said, "She's here."