Shared Obsession Chapter 117

"Montgomery's up to speed," Kate announces, returning from the captain's office to the murderboard. "Anything back from the Dysons' workplaces or the kids' school?"

"We ran background checks on everyone who knew the family was going to be out of town," Esposito replies. "So far everyone's come back clean, but I'm going to keep digging."

"Anything on the canvass?" Beckett asks.

"A whole lot of nothing," Ryan says. "No doorman on the building. None of the Dysons' neighbors noticed anything out of the ordinary."

"Shocker. I've been in my place for eight years and I couldn't pick my neighbors out of a lineup," Esposito admits.

"Well, that's Manhattan for you," Castle comments. "Nobody notices anything unless it affects them directly."

"Unless it's in the paper," Esposito returns, reaching for a copy of The Ledger on a nearby desk. "Those are some fine-looking bachelorettes."

"Weren't you one of the bachelors last year, Castle?" Ryan queries. "Some new young gunslinger knock you off your perch?"

"Not at all," Castle replies. "I just don't have time for anything that shallow anymore. I have crime fighting to do."

"Uh-huh, right," Esposito mutters.

Kate's phone blares an email alert. "Got a hit on John Doe's fingerprints. Douglas Bishop. He's in the system. He was arrested once, ten years ago, misdemeanor drunk and disorderly. The charges were dropped. Besides that, he's clean. Find the next of kin. After they ID the body they can tell us what the hell he was doing in that apartment. Come on, Castle. Let's go check in with Lanie."

Lanie pulls a printout from a file. "I got the results back from the lab. He was injected with an anesthetic, ketamine."

Castle's eyebrows jump upward. "Special K? He was injected with a club drug?"

"Not in this dose. Whoever shot up Mr. Bishop was not looking to get him high," Lanie opines. "They gave him enough to put down a horse."

A young man in scrubs approaches Lanie's autopsy table. "The victim's sister is here."

"I'm Detective Beckett," Kate greets the shaky woman. "Thank you for coming down."

Melanie Kopek points at the sheet-covered body. "Is that him? Is that Doug?"

"That's what we need you to verify," Kate says gently.

Stan Kopek gazes around the interview room. "None of this makes sense. I mean, why would Doug be living in other people's apartments? "He's got his own place out in Hoboken."

"Is it possible that he was in trouble, that he was hiding from someone?" Kate asks.

"No, everybody loved Doug," Melanie insists.

"Did he owe anybody money or have financial problems?" Castle inquires.

"Not that I know of," Melanie replies after a few seconds. "I mean his hours at the travel agency were cut back, but he was getting by."

"Travel agency," Castle considers. "Maybe that's how he knew the Dysons were out of town."

Melanie shakes her head. "But if he were in trouble he would have raided his scuba fund."

"Yeah," Stan agrees. "He was always saying that when his ship came in he was going to get himself a little scuba shop in Jamaica."

"Doug was saving up for it," Melanie explains. "He would put a portion of his paycheck in an account every month."

"When was the last time you saw your brother?" Kate asks.

"Not since the holiday party," Melanie admits. "Doug's agency threw it out by the airport, which is where Stan works. So we all went. You never think anything like this is going to happen, so you don't make time."

From his accustomed chair, Castle leans his elbows on Kate's desk. "Melanie was talking about not making time. She didn't think anything like Doug's murder could happen, so she let the hours and the days go by. But we both know that something can happen at any moment. We've seen it over and over. We can't let Bracken make us put our lives on hold forever, Kate. We should be making time for each other."

Kate looks around to make sure no one is listening. "Babe, what are you talking about? We sleep together. I practically live at your loft."

"With Mother, Alexis, and endless calls regarding murder scenes and evidence. We need more time with just you and me."

"You mean like a date?"

"Yeah, like a date. An overpriced restaurant with good wine and totally evil desserts."

"Sounds nice, but while we have a case going, new evidence pops up all the time. I can't just ignore it. I don't think you can either."

"We can try," Castle suggests. "Maybe for a couple of hours, we'll get lucky – I don't mean – well, you know what I mean."

Kate presses her fingertips against her lips. "I guess we could try. Can you…?" Kate's landline jangles. "Oh, right. Thank you." She returns the receiver to its cradle. "That was the travel agency. If Doug was hiding from someone he wasn't doing a very good job of it. Apparently, he hasn't missed a day of work until yesterday."

"What about the Dysons' trip?"

"They booked it through a different agency."

"The scuba fund?"

"Ryan went over his financials, but there wasn't much there. Doug didn't touch the fund."

"So," Castle sums up, "he wasn't hiding out. He didn't owe any money, and he had no discernable way of knowing when the Dysons would be out of town."

Ryan strides across the bullpen from Tech. "Hey, Beckett! Geeks managed to pull the deleted photos from the camera's memory card. Care to take a look? Stuff on counters, inside cabinets."

Kate scrutinizes the images. "That's not the Dysons' place."

"He's done this before, but to other apartments," Castle concludes.

"Maybe he does it for the thrill?" Ryan guesses.

"Maybe someone found out and got mad," Kate offers.

"Yeah, but he'd still have to know when the Dysons were away," Castle points out.

Kate jerks upright in her chair. "Unless Doug wasn't the squatter."

"Didn't Esposito say the hair in the brush in the bathroom was black?" Castle asks.

"He did," Kate confirms.

"Doug Bishop's hair was dark brown. Maybe what was in the brush wasn't his."

"Could be," Kate allows. "I'll have the lab check it for a match. He could be our killer. But the prints from the camera weren't in the system. So his DNA probably wouldn't be either. We may be able to get a phenotype, though."

"Which in a city like New York will only help if we know where to look," Castle realizes.

"Hey, Castle," Karpowski shouts from across the bullpen, holding up the paper. "Are you slipping? No bachelor of the year, this year?"

"Has everyone read the paper this morning?" Castle groans.

"The NYPD has a subscription. All the precincts get them in case anything pertinent to an investigation turns up," Ryan replies.

"Subscription," Castle repeats, "of course!"

"What?" Kate asks.

"Today's paper was in the Dysons' apartment, but none from before. They must have put a hold on their subscription while they were gone. Maybe that's how our squatter got his information. He works for The Ledger."

"It's possible," Kate says. "No other connection's panned out. We need to get over to The Ledger and ask some questions."

"Hmm, Hispanic, between 5'4" and 5'6" could fit a lot of people," Delivery Supervisor Dale Fickas considers.

"But how many of them would have access to vacation hold information?" Kate presses.

Fickas strokes the beginnings of a stubble. "Well you've got about a dozen in subscriptions, another handful in billing, and of course the newspaper boys themselves."

"I'm going to have to see a list of names," Kate says.

"Sure," Fickas agrees, "follow me."

"Castle!" an attractive reporter calls from across the cavernous office space. "What are you doing here?"

"Donna," Castle greets her. "nice to see you."

"It would have been nicer to see you in my bachelor/bachelorette story," Donna Vincennes complains. "I had to hustle to fill up your slot. And there was a bachelorette who was disappointed to find out you were off the market. I can give you her number."

"No thanks," Castle demurs. "We're here on business, not pleasure."

"We?" Donna questions. "I've seen the way you look at that gorgeous detective. Is she the reason you're unavailable?"

"No comment except that I'm helping her with a case," Castle returns. "And right now you'll have to excuse me. We have a suspect list to go over."

"The writer and the detective," Donna murmurs, as he trots away to join Kate. "There's a story there somewhere. Sooner or later I'm going to get it."