A/N: Hey guys, did you miss me? Things got a little crazy this semester and unfortunately my writing got sacrificed in the process. I am happy to announce that I am officially finished with my finals, though, and there is a great deal of free time in my future. I hope to have the next chapter up soon, and I will truly try to avoid making you guys wait another two months. I feel awful.
Chapter opening is Eyes Open by Taylor Swift.
-{ Chapter 4: Eyes Open }-
Everybody's waiting for you to breakdown
Everybody's watching to see the fallout
Even when you're sleeping, sleeping
Keep your eyes open
Keep your eyes open
Keep your feet ready
Heartbeat steady
Keep your eyes open
Keep your aim locked
The night goes dark
Keep your eyes open
June 3rd, 2012
Beckett was not used to being on the wrong side of the interrogation table, but that was something she could adjust to. As a cop, she had learned interrogation methods by role-playing both sides of the situation. She knew how to question and how to answer. She knew all the tricks. What she did not know… was how it felt to go through the booking process.
Countless times, she had sent criminals into the system and stood by, arms crossed, to watch them get their mug-shots snapped and their fingerprints taken. The process could take as long as several hours. For her, it took one hour and twelve minutes.
Seventy-two minutes of her life were spent in handcuffs, answering questions about her personal information while paperwork was filled out. She asked to see Castle, but was denied. She would get her one phone call after the booking process and after they were through with their interrogation. Then she would be placed in holding for the night, awaiting a hearing with a judge. Internal Affairs was sniffing around, watching the investigation. Reviewing her record. It apparently did not matter that she had resigned almost a month ago.
She felt exposed and vulnerable, handcuffs jingling around her wrists, heart pounding. They swabbed the scratches on her forearm, the ones she had gotten the other morning pushing through the sidewalk crowd. Her fingers shook uncontrollably before they handed her the sign with her name and her booking number. She pictured herself: hair askew, makeup almost non-existent, eyes glassy. She faced the camera and swallowed, blinking against the harsh flash.
"Turn to the right," droned the man behind the camera.
Where was Castle right now? she wondered. Was he pacing the bullpen, or had they escorted him out of the precinct an hour ago and told him to wait on a call? Was he panicking? Probably; it was in his nature to panic. He must be worried.
Hell, she was worried, and she knew that she hadn't done what they were saying she had done. Castle was just taking her word for it, trusting that what she had told him was the absolute truth.
She still didn't fully understand what was happening. They said that her gun had been a match to the bullet that had killed Jocelyn Tam, but she knew that was impossible. That gun was locked up tight in her apartment. She hadn't even touched it in months. There was no way those bullets could match; someone must have messed with the results, or gotten access to a slug from one of her trips to the firing range…
The possibilities swum sickeningly before her, and she closed her eyes in the aftermath of another camera flash, feeling a hitch in her throat. All of this didn't seem quite real, but it was no dream. She was under arrest. For murder. And there was nothing she could do about it.
Eventually she was shuffled into an interrogation room and offered a seat, and then she was alone, left to ponder her fate. The Kate Beckett in the mirror to her right stared at her with haunted eyes. The lines on her face would suggest ten years of aging, and her clothing was wrinkled. She wriggled her shoulders, attempting to straighten out the line of buttons down her blouse, but they remained stubbornly crooked across her midriff.
This morning felt like a lifetime ago. Had she really been in bed, in the Hamptons, with Castle? Could that truly have been her life only seven hours ago?
Where had things gone so wrong?
She waited in the lonely room for a long time, fully aware of the tactic being used against her. There was no clock in here, and no way to track the passing of time. Being left alone with only her thoughts was an attempt to loosen her up. Make her more eager to spill her guts the moment anyone at all appeared in that doorway.
She could have saved them the time and the trouble. She wasn't confessing, no matter how long they made her wait, because she hadn't done anything. Anything besides flee the crime scene, that was. But they already knew about that. Now they were just stalling.
When the door did eventually open, just as Beckett was contemplating how possible it would be for her to catch a nap, Rosewood was the one who stepped through. He was accompanied by a stout woman with shoulder-length dark red hair and deep-set wrinkles. She was wearing a black skirt and a blazer and carrying a briefcase.
"Ms. Beckett, my name is Karina Ross. I have been retained as your defense lawyer. At this time I advise you to say nothing to these detectives until we have had a chance to talk in private."
Beckett blinked in the face of Karina Ross's abrupt announcement.
She should have expected that Castle would be working on something like this while she was being booked. Why the thought hadn't crossed her mind she wasn't sure.
"I'm invoking attorney-client privilege," Ross added to Detective Kaplan, arching an eyebrow deliberately.
He scowled back, thick eyebrows drawn into a furry line across his brow. And then he shut the door and closed Beckett in with her new lawyer. A moment later the lights dimmed and the observation room became visible through the two-way mirror. An empty box.
Karina Ross pulled out one of the abandoned chairs across from Beckett and settled into it, crossing her legs and folding her hands together on the table.
"So," she said, "Why don't you get us started?"
"Someone's trying to frame me," Beckett burst without preamble. Ross nodded along with the agreeing mentality of a therapist. It had never crossed her mind to disagree with Beckett, even before the words had left her mouth. Beckett wasn't sure if she liked that quality, but she was grateful enough for the support that she did not care. Someone was listening and taking her side, and for the moment that was all that she truly needed.
Besides Castle.
Castle being right here, in this room, was the only thing that could make all of this go away. But he wasn't, and so she settled for the messenger, the aid, that he had sent in his place.
"They stole my gun from my apartment," she added. "I haven't been there much recently… I didn't know it was gone."
"So you didn't file a report," Ross concluded, snapping open her briefcase and extracting a notepad.
Beckett nodded, lips pursed.
"Does your building have security cameras?"
"Only in the lobby."
"Well it's something…" Ross murmured, scribbling something down on the notepad. "I'll get started on a warrant for access to that footage. Can you think of anyone in particular that would have reason to frame you?"
Beckett could name dozens, but she knew who belonged on the top of her list. And she knew that most of the details were not open for discussion with a stranger like Karina Ross. Attorney-client privilege be damned, Beckett trusted no one outside of her immediate family at the 12th precinct.
But she could give a name.
"He goes by Cole Maddox," she admitted heavily. "He has tried to kill me… several times now."
Ross's eyebrows were up to her hairline but she said nothing, her pen running a marathon across the page.
"Why would he be trying to frame you?"
Beckett chewed on her lower lip, considering her options.
"There's… an investigation. I got too close to an answer and… someone sent him to kill me."
Ross continued to nod, eyes glued to the page in front of her.
"What is the nature of this investigation?"
Beckett shifted uncomfortably in the stiff chair. "My mother's murder," she admitted
For the first time, Ross's eyes snapped up from her notes. "Oh. Well then." She cleared her throat. "Right. That changes things. We'll go into the details later; let's focus on the past few days. You resigned from the precinct on… May 8th, correct?"
She nodded.
"And then you began a romantic relationship with Mr. Castle?"
There was really no use denying, at this phase. "Yes."
"On June 1st," Ross continued, pulling a few papers from a folder in her briefcase and squinting at them. "You were spotted leaving the apartment of Jocelyn Tam, where moments later the authorities found her dead body." She dropped the paper, raising her eyebrows at Beckett over the top of her glasses.
Beckett swallowed. "I found the body."
"These reports say you have already admitted to fleeing the crime scene."
Not her wisest decision, in hindsight. "There was an eye witness, and I explained myself to the detectives when they questioned me the first time."
"They believed you, then."
"Yes."
"But not anymore," Ross added tiredly, shuffling the papers back into a neat stack. "I'm going to be honest; your case does not look promising." Beckett's heart thumped painfully in her throat. "You put yourself at the crime scene, fleeing without calling the authorities. Jocelyn Tam was personally attacking you, providing motive. She was shot and killed with a gun that you own, which you never reported stolen."
She was right; it didn't look promising.
"You have no alibi, because you were at the crime scene. No foreign fingerprints were found at the scene, and the gun has yet to be located. At your apartment…" she flipped through the report and tapped a particularly long paragraph. "Detectives found a collection of newspaper clippings from Tam's articles on you and Mr. Castle."
"I haven't been back there in at least a week," Beckett insisted.
"And the security footage from your lobby should prove that. We have something, at least. They'll be holding you for a few more hours before they transfer you pending a bail hearing. I'm working on arrangements for that, now, and I assume Mr. Castle will be happy to cover any costs it may present."
Beckett nodded along numbly. Holding. Transfer. Bail.
Reality seemed impossibly wrong all of a sudden.
"When can I see Castle?" she asked with a sudden surge of desperation.
"He will be able to visit you in holding," Ross reassured.
"Is he… is he still here?"
Ross gave her a gentle smile and reached across to pat her hand. "Of course he is." She got to her feet, snapping the briefcase shut. "I'm going to work out the details for your hearing, and I will see you then. After that, we'll start talking about strategies. It's possible that we can work out a deal."
Beckett's head spun, and she just nodded along, shivering in the cold that slipped into the room after the lawyer's departure.
A deal.
What if that was what this came down to? Not getting justice and proving her innocence, but rather how little time could she get behind bars?
Detective Kaplan pushed the door open, and she blinked as the lights snapped back to full strength. "Let's go, Beckett," he said coolly, and held her by the upper arm as he guided her from the interrogation room.
"Kate!" Castle's voice cried the moment she stepped over the threshold. She searched the crowded room for him, finally locating him beside Rosewood. The detective held out a warning hand, which Castle seemed on the verge of full-out ignoring.
She ducked her head and submitted to Kaplan's push as he moved them down a narrow hallway. The holding cells were much like those in the 12th; dank, dark, and surrounded completely by thick metal bars. A bench lined one side, and a toilet sat in the far corner.
Kaplan unlocked the door, his keys jingling, and then raised an eyebrow at her until she sighed and stepped forward. The door clanged resoundingly, and Kaplan twisted his key from the lock. He was expressionless as he stared through the bars at her, meeting her defiant expression. And then he turned and walked away.
She couldn't help but notice the sag of his shoulders, the small shake of his head. A moment later she was completely alone and wondering if she had imagined the sadness weighing in the frown lines around his eyes.
A moment too late, she realized that she had not gotten her phone call. Castle was already here and she had a lawyer… but ideally she should call her father and tell him what was happening. In the brief conversations they had shared over the past month, she had told him of her new relationship with Castle and dissuaded his concerns about the articles that painted her in such a negative light. With all that had been happening since she had found Tam's body, she had not thought to pick up the phone and fill him in on the details. Undoubtedly, he had now heard the news via a third party, something she would have greatly preferred to avoid.
She wondered if he had tried to call her, and thought of her cell phone locked away with her personal effects.
When the door opened a moment later, she had the question—the demand—already formulated. She opened her mouth and then snapped it shut again, on her feet at once and standing by the bars. Castle stopped abruptly in front of her, just staring at her for a long moment before he held up a hand. She pressed her palm flat to his through the bars, feeling the warmth of his flesh on hers and craving more. She wove her fingers through his, clutching him to her. The silence seemed to cloak them, their eyes trapped by each other's gazes.
Castle cleared his throat. "They told me that… the earliest opening for your bail hearing would be tomorrow morning. Your lawyer is working on it."
She nodded, swallowing to ward off the tightness clutching in her throat.
His head tipped to the side, his eyes suddenly imploring. "You're going to get out of here," he rasped, his voice betraying his heart. His head shook back and forth slowly. "I promise, Kate…"
She clutched his hand vehemently. "I hope so," she managed quietly. Her eyes were giving her away, and she knew it. He searched her expression, and then pulled his hand away and let it drop back by his side.
"I'm going to the 12th," he informed her. "Esposito… Ryan… they'll help. We'll find something. We'll prove that you couldn't have done this."
She opened her mouth but then let it slip shut again. Logic told her not to let him get his hopes up. But fear buried her in silence. She wanted to hope with him—wanted to believe that this nightmare still had a happily-ever-after stamped on the last page.
"Okay," she said abruptly, nodding. "Okay."
"Do you… do you need anything?" he asked helplessly, eyes sweeping over the empty cell she was inhabiting.
She shook her head. "No. And… besides, they're moving me tonight."
His expression darkened. "Where?"
"Probably a minimum security facility."
"Kate…"
"I'm fine, Castle. I'm… I'm fine. Go talk to Ryan and Esposito and… for goodness sake don't get them in any more trouble with Gates."
"I'll be… subtle."
That provoked a smile. When had Castle ever been subtle?
He hesitated, his lips opening and closing but no words coming out. Finally he took a pace back, away from the bars. "I'll see you soon," he promised, his words ringing with something beyond honesty. Passion. Faith.
"Castle?" she called, her face pressed to the bars suddenly as she was seized with the reality of him walking away and her, trapped in this place so far from him.
"Yeah?" he asked, stopping in his tracks and turning back to face her directly.
Her heart pounded unsteadily in her chest, burning heat and freezing cold warring in her limbs. Her fingers shook, her throat constricting.
"I love you," she choked out with a helplessness deeper than any emotion she had felt before. It surged within her: a raging ocean, a blazing wildfire.
It took him only three long strides to return to her, his face only inches from hers. If it weren't for the bars, she thought morosely.
Lifting one hand, he reached through the bars and cupped the side of her face, his fingers threading through her hair. The pad of his thumb stroked along her cheekbone.
"I love you, too," he said seriously, his eyes clear and blue, piercing her with his seriousness. "We're going to get through this," he added encouragingly. "And you and me… we're gonna make it, Kate."
She nodded. She couldn't afford to let logic get in the way; her heart wasn't going to let her argue. She wanted to believe him; needed to believe him.
He turned away again, and this time she let him go without another word, the warm shadow of his touch still burning into her skin.
~CxBxCxBxCxB~
Ryan and Esposito were on their feet as soon as Castle appeared in the bullpen. Esposito shot a dark look in his partner's direction, crossing his arms.
"Where's Beckett?" they inquired in tandem, glancing at each frostily and shuffling so that there was another yard between them.
Castle opened his mouth to point out how Lanie hadn't been exaggerating to Beckett about the two of them, but then he abruptly changed his mind, clearing his throat. "They're holding her at the 19th," he announced somberly.
"Holding her?" demanded Esposito, at the same time as Ryan questioned, "Did they arrest her?"
"They're, uh, charging her with murder," Castle said, glancing uncertainly between the two detectives. Esposito's eyes had darkened, nostrils flaring, and Ryan had set his jaw and was glaring at the floor as though it had personally offended him.
"Fuck," Esposito hissed, slamming his fist into the side of the desk and then grimacing as he shook out his fingers.
"Oh for goodness sake!" Lanie griped, appearing suddenly beside Castle. She glared menacingly at Esposito, who moved his gaze elsewhere, muttering under his breath and rubbing his hand. She put her hands on her hips and turned her stare on Castle, her gaze losing the hard edges. "How is she?" she murmured.
He shook his head. "They've got her in holding, but she said they'd probably transfer her before… before the hearing."
Lanie's eyebrows drew into one thin line, her frown crinkling the middle. "I meant… how's she holding up?"
"Oh." He coughed shortly. "She's… okay. For now." He turned his imploring gaze on Ryan and Esposito. "We have to find something. Anything. We have to prove that she didn't do this."
All three of them nodded around him.
"And we have to keep this from Gates," Castle added, his eyes flicking involuntarily towards Ryan. Esposito was standing stiff, arms crossed, and now his chin jutted out. Lanie gave a little huff of a sigh, and Ryan scuffed his shoes on the tile.
"Of course," Esposito said. "Anybody here not cool with that idea can get the hell out."
Ryan didn't move.
"Alright, good," Castle said.
"Where do we start?" Ryan blurted. He was jittery on his feet, bouncing on his heels and shifting his weight. He kept looking back and forth between Castle and Lanie, avoiding Esposito.
"The bullet found in the victim was a match for her gun," Lanie reminded them.
"But she turned her gun in," Ryan said.
"Her spare, idiot," Esposito muttered. Ryan ducked his head and Lanie pursed her lips disapprovingly, shaking her head at the two of them.
"She kept it at her apartment, but it must have been stolen," Castle provided.
"And she didn't notice?" Esposito queried incredulously, eyebrows tugging upward on his forehead to show deep wrinkle lines.
"Beckett hasn't had much need for a gun on suspension," Lanie jumped in before Castle could get a word out. "I think we should start with Beckett's apartment, don't you, Castle?"
"Right! Yes. Good plan."
He was suddenly overwhelming grateful that Lanie knew about him and Beckett. Hiding the truth from everyone was only going to get more difficult as time went by, and the way Esposito was looking at him with narrowed eyes suggested he had already started to suspect the truth.
The group shifted out of the bullpen, glancing over their shoulders and keeping a cautious eye out for Gates. Lanie regretfully headed back for the morgue, but Castle caught a ride with Ryan and Esposito for the trip across town.
Beckett's apartment seemed foreign; it had been so long since he had seen it.
Esposito coughed as they entered, and Ryan waved his hand in front of his face, wrinkling his nose. The apartment had the musty smell of disused space and a layer of dust was growing on every surface.
"Jeez," Ryan muttered.
Castle stood stiff by the door, caught in a realization.
Beckett was living with him.
"Alright, man, she's not living here," Esposito said with a shake of his head, facing off with Castle and crossing his arms. "What do you know?"
"Why would I know?" he stammered, backing up a pace. Esposito raised an eyebrow.
"Right. Why would you know where Beckett's been spending her time… it's not like you spent all summer in each other's company or anything. Every time I talked to her, she just happened to be with you. Funny coincidence."
Ryan was frowning, eyes squinting with confusion. The dots were connecting, though. For both of them.
"No way she's got another guy," Espo continued. "Uh-uh. Give it up, bro."
Castle cut his eyes towards the door, seeking his escape, and Ryan made a sudden choking sound, finger pointing at him and hand waving erratically. "You and Beckett!" he exclaimed.
Esposito rolled his eyes dramatically. "No shit, man." He turned his focus back to Castle. "Spill, bro. How long's this been going on?"
Beckett was behind bars across town and Castle suddenly found himself envious of her. He swallowed nervously, sweat beading on his brow.
"Come on, guys…"
"Castle," challenged Ryan. He stood beside Esposito and crossed his own arms. For just a moment, the tension between them was gone and they were united.
He sighed heavily. "Since the night she resigned," he admitted.
Ryan sputtered and Esposito's eyes darkened like an older brother introduced for the first time to his little sister's boyfriend.
"So all the newspapers..?" Ryan was demanding. Castle was caught in Esposito's cold stare, though.
"You treating her right, bro?" Esposito questioned, his jaw set tightly.
"We're, uh… we're together," Castle coughed, shuffling his feet and tucking his hands in his pocket. Esposito nodded slowly.
"And living together?"
"Apparently," Castle agreed, gaze sweeping over the abandoned rubble of her former living space.
"About time," Esposito said. He clapped Castle on the shoulder. "Let's keep your girl out of prison, huh?" He stepped around Castle and started picking through Beckett's cabinets, leaving the writer to catch his breath. This was a lot all at once. Suddenly it seemed like he was broadcasting the news on loudspeakers. What was Beckett going to think of all her coworkers knowing about their relationship before they were ready to announce it?
He spun. "You can't tell Gates," he insisted. Esposito paused in his task. Ryan was still standing dumbfounded off to the side. Both of them nodded without hesitation.
"Of course," Esposito intoned at the same time as Ryan's "No problem."
They caught each other's gaze and Castle saw the camaraderie vanish back into turmoil. Esposito glared and slammed a few of the cabinets shut, moving across the room.
"Where does she keep her spare?" he asked Castle.
"I… I, uh, don't know."
Esposito shook his head and continued his search. Ryan began shuffling through her belongings on the other side of the room. There was a general air of discomfort about the situation. Castle began to look through the drawers of a desk, feeling like this was a greater invasion of privacy now because of his relationship with Beckett. They were digging through her life, dust covered as it was, and it didn't seem right.
"Rosewood's already been here," Esposito mentioned. "He hasn't filed his findings yet. Probably didn't get anything."
"The door was locked," Castle recognized.
"They used Beckett's key," Ryan shrugged.
"But the point is that the door still locks," Esposito pointed out. "No one kicked that thing down."
"So how did our thief get in?" Ryan asked pensively, scanning the room.
Castle moved through the apartment towards the window that led to the fire escape. It was latched properly, and he scowled. Esposito appeared at his side, eyes narrowing.
"See the scrapes there?" he said, sliding his finger along the edge of the sill, on the outer side of the latch. "You slide a hanger up in there…" he grasped an imaginary wire and jabbed it upwards. "There would be hole in the insulation… right there."
"Well there we go," Castle said, hoping flaring up inside him like newborn flame. "That proves someone broke in."
Even Ryan looked skeptical. "That's not enough."
Esposito shook his head. "Castle, we're gonna need more."
"But… but that proves someone could have broken in. That she didn't use her gun. And what about gunshot residue? They had to have tested her… and she hasn't fired a gun in a month."
"That stuff fades a lot faster in the real world, Castle," Esposito pointed out. "And Beckett would know how to get rid of it."
"She'd also know how to fake an obvious break-in at her apartment," Castle retorted.
"The defense will make sure to use that," Ryan assured calmly. "But right now… Castle, there's not much else we can do here."
"So… what, then?"
"We wait," Esposito ground out regretfully. "We wait until the prosecution gives us something to work with. They tell us they've decided something… we find a way to prove that they're wrong."
"Each and every time," Ryan added.
Castle squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. He had wanted to find something definitive. Something that would prove, without a doubt, that Kate couldn't have been involved. He wanted to bring her home tonight and make this entire nightmare disappear. He was being forced to accept that those ideals were a fantasy. Beckett was spending the night in prison.
"We should check the fire escape. And the alley," Castle insisted.
Ryan and Esposito shared a look that quickly dissipated, Esposito crossing his arms and grunting. It seemed the two were doomed to remember their quarrel at regular intervals. They were pulling at the seams of their partnership.
"Alright," Esposito said abruptly. The three men trooped out of the apartment, and Castle locked the door in their wake.
The alley was abandoned and windy, the sky turning overcast as night fell.
"Looks like rain," Ryan commented in an attempt to distract the mood of their outing. Both Esposito and Castle failed to find a response.
The walls were brick, and Beckett's apartment was on the third floor. They craned their necks up at the skinny windows they knew belonged to her, dark outlines of furniture just faintly visible in the approaching darkness. The fire escape zigzagged across the face of the building, slithering downward to an abrupt stop a few feet over Castle's head.
"They'd need something to stand on," Castle murmured to himself, scanning the alley.
"Here, Castle," Ryan said. He was crouched on the balls of his feet, pointing a pen at a strip of tire tread printed in a dry patch of mud. It was in line with the path a vehicle would need to take to pull into place below the fire escape.
Esposito raised his eyebrows. "That's something."
Castle pulled out his phone and snapped several shots from various angles, getting a zoomed in view of the tread-marks.
"Here," Ryan offered, setting his pen down beside the marks as a measurement reference. Castle snapped a few more shots.
"I think that's all we can do for now, Castle," Esposito suggested, and Castle reluctantly nodded his defeat, standing back up and shoving his hands in his pockets. This would have to be enough. "Come on, let's get back to the 12th."
~BxCxBxCxBxC~
June 4th, 2012
Her hands felt light, her fingers cold. She rubbed her wrists, soothing the tender skin where it had been rubbed raw by the handcuffs. The bailiff hooked the cuffs on his belt and Beckett turned at once to the seats behind her place at the defense table. Castle leaned forward and embraced her in an uncomfortable half-hug over the barrier. The courtroom was barren save for the prosecution, the defense, and the small gathering of support in the front row. A few reporters had been approved, and sat like shadows in the back, pens already zipping across their notepads.
Castle sat back down between his mother and daughter and Beckett saw both of them reach to clutch his hands in support. They were the only ones present, and she consoled herself with thoughts of Ryan and Esposito out hunting down leads. Karina Ross sat stiffly in her chair to Beckett's right, sifting through paperwork with a firm expression pressed into her olive skin. Beckett leaned forward and took in their opposition. Kaplan and Rosewood sat behind the prosecution, which consisted of three lawyers, from what she could see.
ADA Maggie Garrison was looking as professional as ever in her pinstripe pant suit, blonde hair pulled into a tight bun and glasses perched strictly on the bridge of her nose. The other two were unfamiliar, both young men in suits with crisp, blue ties. The older of the pair Beckett assumed to be the second chair, and the third was likely a temp.
Garrison was carefully avoiding looking in her direction. Beckett could feel the tension as though it were a palpable entity within the room. She and Garrison had worked dozens of cases together; Beckett had severed as a witness for her on a number of occasions. The two had not been friends; they had not had the chance to consider each other as such. They were friendly acquaintances, and it felt unnatural to be on opposite sides of the room.
Surely Garrison did not believe Beckett was guilty. Surely she would be willing to look further to find the actual truth in this case. She always had been, in the past.
Judge Marcus Taylor strode into the room and the room clamored to its feet. He waved his hand, scowling, and there was a scraping of chairs as the small gathering reseated themselves. Judge Taylor settled into his place, propping reading glasses on his nose and peering at the file that was waiting for him.
"We're here today to hear the arguments for bail on the case of Jocelyn Tam's murder. Katherine Beckett has been charged with the crime… this is an informal hearing… ADA Garrison, would you like to begin?"
Garrison cleared her throat and stood. "Your honor, Katherine Beckett is involved in a relationship with multi-millionaire Richard Castle. We have reason to believe she is a flight risk, having already fled the scene of the crime and covered her tracks. Her decision to murder Jocelyn Tam is a radical change in behavior and we believe her to be a danger to the public and herself."
The judge nodded coolly. "Ms. Ross?"
Beckett's lawyer stood. "My client is prepared to surrender her passport. She is not a flight risk, and the prosecution's claims of her irregular behavior argue to the fact that this murder was not even committed by her, not that she is dangerous."
"Fleeing a crime scene and resigning from her position at the NYPD are both irregular behaviors admitted to by the defendant," Garrison countered.
"And just because someone quits their job does not make them suddenly capable of murder," retorted Ross.
"Your honor, the defendant has killed a total of four suspects during investigations. That proves her capability for murder."
"Those were ruled clean kills. Unless you'd like to go after the entire NYPD for all deaths committed in the line of duty and question their capability to murder unarmed civilians…"
"That will be enough," Judge Taylor interrupted with a wave of his hand. "I ask that Katherine Beckett's passport be surrendered immediately to the bailiff. Bail is set at $20,000, and the defendant will be required to submit to ankle monitor tracking. This case will open in my court on the 16th. Dismissed."
He banged his gavel firmly and rose to his feet. The court broke into murmurs. Beckett's heart was racing in her chest. Her fingers felt numb, frozen on her lap like stiff little icicles. She was going home with Castle. The bail, the tracking monitor… the small details paled in comparison to the larger truth. She was going home.
The whole thing had taken less than five minutes.
Castle laughed behind her, a short breath of joyous relief, and she turned and shared a wide-toothed smile with him, hardly able to contain herself. Ross handed over Beckett's passport. The prosecution packed their briefcases.
They were required to stay in the courthouse for another twenty minutes while the monitor was obtained and programmed, but Beckett hardly recognized the passing of time as they sat in the hallway. She clutched Castle's hand tightly, leaning against his shoulder with her hair cascading down his chest. He was warm and she could feel his heartbeat in time with his steady breathing.
He had handed over the check instantly, having written it out only seconds after the judge announced the price that her freedom would cost. Alexis and Martha remained with them, Martha sitting on Beckett's other side and Alexis on Castle's.
Castle would fill her in on the details of the investigation when they were back in the safety of his loft, away from prying eyes and sensitive ears. There had been some progress, she understood, but his concern was evident in the dark circles under his eyes. He was not confident in what he had found. She forced herself not to worry about it. They would be home soon. That was all that mattered right now.
The bailiff arrived at long last, unboxing the bracelet. He asked her to raise her pant leg and she stood and placed her left foot on the bench while Castle and his family looked on in contemplative silence. The weight felt unusual, but he strapped it on tightly enough that it didn't slip or cut into her skin. It only took a moment, and then it gave a muted 'beep' and a red light clicked on.
"There you go," the bailiff announced with a shrug, straightening up. "Have a nice day."
"Ice cream," Castle said firmly, giving no other explanation. Alexis and Martha were watching her for a reaction, and she shivered under their pitying gaze.
"That sounds wonderful," she agreed.
They stepped out the doors of the courtroom, straight into a flurry of reporters.