His eyes.
They're gorgeous, such a rare color of blue topped with long lashes, and even though they're not functioning, definitely the windows to his soul.
She sees incomparable sorrow, repressed anger and a fierce determination to ...
"Please forgive me in advance for overstepping my bounds, but I felt like I couldn't approach you with my request until all the pieces were put into place. I've already spoken to the Mayor about my plans and he gave me permission to speak to your Captain."
"You've already spoken with Captain Montgomery?"
"Yes, I've talked with him a good deal about my, - umm," he swallows heavily, "predicament, and he's already agreed to give you a leave of absence from the Twelfth."Leave of absence?
A rope of resentment twists around her due to the nerve of this man going behind her back and trying to manipulate her life by seeking out her Captain first, but the genuine remorse on his face, the tears that well in his eyes, quickly dispel the negative emotion and she finds herself waiting with bated breath for his next words.
"I want to hire you, Detective Beckett," and he wipes at his tired, wet eyes. "I need you to save my beloved daughter's life."
Beckett doesn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't this... Alexis. His beautiful, innocent daughter is in danger?
Rick starts, raking a hand through his hair. "Alexis is my only child. She just turned 16 years old and was brutally taken from me. She was kidnapped during a car accident that her captor staged and which caused my injuries.
I need you to track down the bastard who took her, Detective Beckett, - the bastard who did this to me, – who's destroyed any hope for current happiness."
Kate's quiet, contemplating his words, feeling the desperation rolling off him. Her eyes never stray from his face as she asks quietly, "Please tell me how you were led to me."
"I reported Alexis as missing to a police officer who happens to be an acquaintance of mine and he recommended I go straight to the FBI, - specifically see Agent William Sorensen because he's a retrieval specialist in kidnapping cases. Agent Sorenson and I spoke at length, discussing what could be done to help track her abductor, understanding I have explicit instructions from him to not involve the authorities. Agent Sorenson was not sure he could get involved since officially he couldn't help me 'off-the-books'. He was very understanding of my predicament and suggested I seek other avenues of investigation. He proposed I should possibly hire a private investigator. However, he was leery of the capabilities of Private Investigators, not being able to access official resources and about their ability to be discreet, so he made an additional suggestion."
God, the way his eyes fell to hers, - searing, imploring, - she'd swear he could see and was actually looking into her battered soul.
A shiver crawls along her spine at his husked, "You, Detective Beckett."
"I see," and her front teeth pull her bottom lip into her mouth, an array of emotions assailing her.
"Agent Sorenson indicated he knew you from a previous relationship, had worked side by side with you in another kidnapping case... He spoke very highly of you and your investigative skills, said you were one of the most intelligent, intuitive detectives he had ever met, driven by your past."
At her soft sigh, hinting how uncomfortable she was with that subject, Rick continues, "He did not elaborate on that topic, only let me know that your history had helped shape you into the best female detective New York City has seen in the past decade. He said you simply exude empathy for both the victims and the families of the tragedies you investigate. Because of this empathy, and the explicit trust he has in you, he felt you would be the best choice to investigate my daughter's abduction. He indicated you would understand the delicacy of the search, but also the need to pursue it with all diligence and haste."
"Did he now?" and the lingering, wounded feelings she's felt over the past few months due to their strained parting rise to the surface.
A lighthearted grin envelops his face. "I think he's a fan of yours."
Kate's taken aback completely. She had been extremely close to Will, even thought he might be the one, but the relationship had not ended on the best of terms. He took a promotion requiring him to relocate to Boston and automatically expected her to move with him. She couldn't get over how presumptuous it was of him to expect her to abandon her whole life, her fulfilling job as lead Detective to move to another city with no promise of a new position once she got there.
And in the end, the deciding factor had been she just couldn't leave her father, who was making such great progress into his sobriety, let alone leave the NYPD and her co-workers, who were more like family. She couldn't leave her friends, her job, as her life was completely tied to the city.
She pushed aside the notion that her main factor for staying was to keep a close eye on her mother's case and ended her relationship with Will.
Having Will speak of her like this was beyond explanation, thinking she had burned those bridges completely when he left. She was surprised and more than a little flattered that he spoke so highly of her.
Rick's silky baritone brought her back from her reverie, "And I have to say, I'm starting to understand why he's a fan of yours, Detective Beckett."
Fuck, he's good, that infamous Richard Castle charm rising to the surface and causing her heart to skip a beat.
"I'm personally surprised by the pedestal Agent Sorenson has placed me on, and I'm worried about living up to all the hype, but I will certainly consider what you have to say. Nothing causes my "Mama Bear" instinct to rise quicker and more fiercely than knowing a child's in danger."
She thinks back to the kidnapping case she and Will had worked in the past, the one where she met him and did not have a happy ending. The shared guilt and loss were the main factors in the attraction between them, but it hadn't been enough to keep them together.
"I'm happy to hear that," and the relief in his voice is practically tangible. "Of all the successes I've had in my forty years, she's the only one I'm truly proud of. She is the light and joy of my life. I can't express deeply enough how much I need her back." His voice chokes with unshed tears while continuing, "My life is nothing, - completely empty without her."
"Tell me how she was abducted."
"She was taken two and a half months ago during a car accident in which I sustained the injuries I have now. We were heading to the Hampton's, had just reached the outskirts of the city and were hit broadside."
His eyes cloud over as the memory assails him. "All I remember of the accident was this bright red truck coming at us at a high rate of speed. It was raised for off-road duty and was fitted with a heavy steel bumper carrying a winch. The truck hit my Ferrari in the driver's side door, the winch caving it in, and me. I suffered a badly broken leg, several broken ribs and sustained a severe head injury, resulting in the loss of my sight. However, thank God, I was cognizant enough to hear what happened afterward. I distinctly remember hearing a young man talking to Alexis, telling her not to worry, she was going to go live with him and he would take care of her, keep her safe."
He glances away, face turned towards the wall while he continues, "I'll never forget Alexis' cries... He pulled her from the car and she yelled, 'Dad, Dad, are you OK? LET GO OF ME. Why are you doing this? . . . DADDY!' ... She screamed bloody murder when he forced her into his truck and then she was just gone. The truck simply backed up and left."
Kate could see the rage welling up inside him, trying to fight down the overwhelming despair of losing his daughter. "How do the police still not have a single lead? Where were the traffic cams? How many of these trucks could there be in the city? This is an island for goodness sake. Why did this have to - ?"
His right hand slams forcefully down on the table at the same time a lone tear streams down his face. "She's only sixteen years old. Only sixteen."
Kate rises from her chair without thinking and sits on the table next to him, placing her hand gently on his arm. He flinches, but relaxes into her grasp, needing the comfort of her nearness, the comfort of her touch.
"Shit, I'm sorry," he apologizes, embarrassed by his outburst.
"There's no need to apologize, Mister Rodgers. I'm the one who's sorry for your heartache and suffering. No parent deserves to be going through what you are."
Kate's empathy floats through the room with every word, her voice flowing like warm southern honey. He feels the heat from her hand and it elicits thoughts he hasn't allowed himself to think of in years, not since his second divorce. A sense of safety and security surrounds him, something he hasn't felt in a very long time.
Maybe, just maybe, there's a light for him on the horizon. Maybe he will get to hold his little girl again. Maybe Detective Kate Beckett will be the catalyst in bringing a peace into his life he has not felt in many, many years.
Jesus, he wants to see the color of her hair, her eyes, the shape of her lips, to assure himself she's just as striking as in his imagination, but deep down, - he unquestionably knows her inner beauty far surpasses her outward appearance.
Kate continues softly, "I hate to ask this question, but I have to know... Do you have proof of life?"
"Yes," and his eyes light up with hope for the first time since he entered the interrogation room. "The stalker who took her is hmm, - unconventional, to say the least. He's utterly besotted with her, believes he's head over heels in love with her and so he's given her some," - his voice scoffs while he raises his fingers into air quotes, "privileges...The deviant's hoping she'll return his affections one day." A tremor courses through his body at the thought. "He allows her to send a letter once a week, as well as skype with me for just a few minutes."
"That's actually fantastic news. It gives us a great starting place."
"Believe me, I've tried to trace this guy. He's a computer genius, knows how to route his signal through several major cities throughout the world, making it almost impossible to trace. I'm sure he is using an anonymizer site on the web. It allows a person to log in and have a new IP address assigned to make it look like he's someone else and somewhere else. He's good enough to bounce the signal over at least six hops. I'm hoping you have access to an expert computer hacker that's saavy enough to track down this psycho.
I want to hire you indefinitely, Detective Beckett, for however long it takes to rescue Alexis. Money is no issue; you can name your price... Just please say you'll help me... I believe you're my last hope."
She's thankful she's sitting down because the pleading in his voice makes her knees weak and she almost acquiesces right then and there, agreeing to help him, but she knows she needs time.
Christ, could she survive losing another child? ... How would he if Alexis doesn't make it?
"Well," she continues cautiously, "it sounds like both Mayor Weldon and Captain Montgomery are essentially on board and have already agreed to let me help you, but I do need a little time to think about it."
"Of course, I didn't expect an answer from you right away. I'm hoping to hear from you by the end of the week."
"Give me forty eight hours," but she already knows she doesn't need a couple of days.
Her heart's somehow already entwined with a deathly afraid, 16-year-old girl, and her broken father, with eyes the color of blooming blue peonies, and blessed with a gift of words that happened to save her wounded soul ten years ago.