Shared Obsession Chapter 118

"Hey, we've got a hit," Kate calls as Castle traverses the newspaper's version of a bullpen. She holds up a file as he reaches her. "Delivery boy, Mickey Carlson. He matches the phenotype and the Dysons are on his route."

Rick snaps his fingers and grins. "Delivery boy. Knew it!"

"Anyway, he didn't show this morning," Kate continues. "Another courier had to cover." Her gaze shifts to Fickas. "You know, there's no address on this file."

"That's because he never gave us one," Fickas explains. "And I guess now I know why."

Kate points to a poster on the wall. "It says there that payday is tomorrow. Does Mickey do direct deposit or does he…."

"Pick up his own check?" Fickas interrupts. "Like clockwork. Payroll comes in at ten in the morning. Mickey's here at ten-oh-one."

Ryan regards Mickey Carlson's photo on the murderboard. "A delivery boy with syringes full of Ketamine? The stuff's easy enough to pick up at a rave or a club, but usually only enough for one dose. The dealers don't want anyone coming after them for anything more serious than distribution. Bad for business."

"Maybe Mickey's job is just a front for whatever business he's really in," Kate proposes. "She taps a document clipped to the board. "This is a list of all the vacation holds on his route. He could be squatting at any of them. He may be armed, so make sure your teams use extreme caution. Castle and I will set up at the paper in case he shows."

"If he's out there, we'll find him," Esposito declares.

"It's ironic, you know," Ryan muses. "People put vacation holds on to avoid break-ins."

Castle claps him on the back. "Good use of irony."

"So who was your friend at the paper?" Kate asks Castle as she navigates through traffic on the way to The Ledger."

"Acquaintance, not friend. She does the bachelor and bachelorette of the year listings. She was digging around for why I begged off. She asked me about you, Beckett."

"What did you say?"

"That we were working on a case."

"Was she satisfied with that?"

"I don't know. Maybe. But she can be very determined. She digs up all kinds of romantic snippets she thinks will catch her readers' interest. And she's usually pretty much on the money. She knew about one of Mother's assignations before I did."

Kate's teeth worry her bottom lip. "So, do you think she's going to dig any further into us?"

"I'd say there's at least a 50-50 chance, Kate. We should probably be prepared for it."

"Then maybe going out for a date isn't such a good idea, Babe."

"Or maybe it would imply we have nothing to hide," Rick counters. "Either way, if Donna is snooping, she's snooping. Having dinner out won't make that much of a difference. But we could make it someplace that's hard to get into without making a reservation ahead – way ahead. That would give Donna and whatever snitches she has a harder time. They'd also be looking for bigger game."

"Where, and how would we get in?" Kate asks.

"I'll give it some thought," Castle decides.

In a sheltered nook at The Ledger, Castle glances at his watch. "Ten fifteen. Maybe he's a no-show. Oops! Spoke too soon. There's our suspect!"

Kate charges out of hiding. "Mickey Carlson, you're under…." Carlson takes off running, trying to dodge between desks and file cabinets.

As Kate pursues Mickey, Castle's long legs allow him to get out in front of the fleeing squatter. He sticks one out, just as Mickey attempts to run past. Kate catches up as Mickey hits the floor and snaps her handcuffs on her prisoner's wrists. "Mickey Carlson, I'm Detective Kate Beckett and you're under arrest for murder."

Kate lays a kit with syringes and vials in front of Mickey on the table in Interrogation. "This is the Ketamine that you used to kill Doug Bishop."

Mickey's eyes widen as his jaw drops. "No! Wait! That's not mine! I swear, I'm not a criminal. I was just squatting there."

"Technically, squatting is a crime," Castle points out.

"Yeah, a victimless crime," Mickey argues, "especially the way I do it."

"What do you mean especially the way you do it?" Kate questions.

"I don't hurt anything. I don't steal anything. I take pictures so I can leave everything exactly the way it was – except for when I fixed a lady's dripping faucet that was driving me crazy. But I figured she'd think the super did it. I sure wouldn't kill anyone."

"If you didn't kill Doug Bishop, how did he end up dead in the Dysons' apartment?" Kate demands.

"A guy from the Maitlands' apartment must have killed him," Mickey asserts.

"And who are the Maitlands?" Kate presses.

"People whose apartment I stayed in before the Dysons'."

Kate sits back, interlacing her fingers. "OK, why don't you start at the beginning and take it from there?"

"Maitlands put a week's hold on their paper, which I was psyched about because they live on East 27th which has amazing Indian restaurants."

"I know what you mean," Castle acknowledges.

"So I picked the lock," Mickey continues, "and started taking pictures so I could return everything to the original state. So, I'm taking pictures when I find these syringes on the table. Kind of weird, but I figure one of the Maitlands must be a diabetic or something, right? So I keep going. Then bam, it hits me. What's a gun with a silencer doing out on the bed? And I see all this gear."

"Gear?" Kate queries.

"Mountain climbing equipment. At this point, I figured I'd seen enough. I decided to get out of there. But just as I'm grabbing my stuff I hear the door unlock, and I barely reach the closet in time. I can see them through the slats. There's three of them. The dead guy in the picture you showed me, Doug, a plain-looking dude, and a tough-looking SOB. Man, he had a scar on his face, looked like a crescent moon."

"A crescent moon?" Kate repeats skeptically.

"I know it's crazy, right?" Mickey responds. "Anyway, they head into the back. I take the opportunity to grab my stuff and get the hell out of there. I end up at the Dysons'. I take a load off, get comfortable, then out of nowhere him and his friend come in."

"Who? The crescent moon Scarface?" Castle asks.

"No, the plain-looking dude. They grab me and demand that I give their phone back."

"Their phone?" Castle echoes.

Kate leans across the table. "Are you making this up as you go?"

"No, no," Mickey protests. "You see in my race to get out of the Maitlands' place I must have grabbed one of their jackets and it had their phone in it. But I don't know how they knew."

"Modern phones have GPS, They could track it on the web," Castle explains.

"Huh?" Mickey returns before picking up his story. "Well, I didn't want their phone, Man. I tried to give it back. Guy pulls out a syringe and is ready to stab me with it. But then thank God for Doug. He says, 'I didn't sign up for murder.' Then they start arguing and the syringe guy says, 'We've got three mil on the line. He's seen too much.' Next thing I know they're fighting. So I ran out of there."

Kate rolls her eyes and signals for LT to take Mickey to Holding.

"Castle, what are you doing? Kate asks as Rick pulls out his cell phone.

"I figured out where we can go tonight: Drago. Since Page Six reported that Lady Gaga was spotted there, the place has been booked months ahead. But I can get us in."

"How?" Kate asks.

"I know the maître 'd. Old time theater buff. Has an incredible crush on Mother. I snuck him backstage to see her and he was on cloud nine. He's been at several fine dining establishments since then and has helped me out upon occasion."

"Well, if that doesn't work, I can always threaten the management with the city health inspector," Kate says.

Castle smiles his admiration. "Smooth move, Detective."