Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop
Something was ringing. Kate couldn't really hear it from under the blankets she had pulled over her head – the heating in the building wasn't on yet and October was cold already. Reaching one hand out from under the pile of blankets, Kate fumbled on the bedside table for the phone she knew was there, pulling it under the blankets to answer.
"Did I wake you?"
She glared into the darkness. "Espo, it's… Well, I don't know what time it is but it's early. 'Course you woke me up." There was silence on his end of the phone before Kate sighed. "We have a case."
"Yeah. Got a piece of paper and pen nearby? At the Manhattan Music Museum. Got an ETA?"
"Give me an hour. Bye, Esposito."
Kate stayed hidden under the covers for another minute, savoring the warmth. Then she moved the phone out in front of her, the illumination making her eyes squint as she hit the speed dial for her dad; she hated to wake him up but someone had to be around when Al got up for school.
"It's early, Katie. What's wrong?" Jim asked softly on the other end of the phone. There was a muted 'woof' in the background that had to belong to Sadie.
"Nothing, Dad. I need someone to watch Al. Case just got called in." Kate rolled over, shoving her hair back from her face. "Want me to drop her off or you gonna come out here?"
"Either one, kid. Which is easiest for you?"
She pushed up out of bed, curling her toes against the chilly wood floors. "Don't care. I'll drop her off on my way in; the place is near you. I'll be by in, like, half an hour. Thanks, Dad."
"Don't mention it, Katie. See you in thirty."
Kate hung up, tossing the phone onto the unmade bed before searching through her drawers and closet for clean clothes. Buttoning the black pants she found hung in the closet, shirt laid out on the bed, Kate walked into Al's room. The only light was from her little night light, throwing stars onto the walls and ceiling, and it helped Kate avoid stepping on the pile of Legos Al had left out after last night's building session before bed time.
"Al, kid," Kate said quietly, shaking her daughter's shoulder under the deep violet comforter. Al moaned, rolled over even as she slapped at Kate's hand. Definitely her daughter – Kate had to listen to stories of how she fought against being woken up by her own mother and father in the morning. "Hey. Got to get up for a little, Al." Blue eyes blinked open, narrow in the dark. A facsimile of a glare, Kate thought. "Gonna go over Grandpa's for the morning."
Al turned and buried her face in the pillows. "Don't wanna. Wanna sleep, Mom."
I hear you, Kate thought with a sigh. "Listen. How about you sleep on the way to Grandpa's. Just tell me where your stuff for school is and I'll carry you out to the car."
Kate gathered up the backpack, found the brightly colored notebooks and pencil zip-case. In a plastic bag, she tossed in a pair of Al's jeans, two shirt choices, and a pair of black Mary Jane's for Al to change into before school. Piling everything in the hallway near the front door, Kate returned to her bedroom to shrug on the white shirt, pulling a navy blue blazer from the closet. She ducked into the bathroom to put on a light layer of make-up and brush through her hair before slipping into a pair of ballet flats, hooking the black heels on her fingers – carrying Al to the car parked on street-level would be dangerous to attempt in four inch heels.
Stuffing the heels, the gun she retrieved from the safe in the office, and her phone into her black work bag, Kate slung it over her shoulder, added Al's backpack, and looped the plastic bag of clothes into her elbow. Al was sitting on the edge of her bed, still looking half-asleep.
"Come on, kid. Off to Grandpa's," Kate said, hefting Al up onto her hip. Her daughter burrowed her head into Kate's curls, her nose pressing against her mother's neck as Kate grabbed her keys from the kitchen counter and locked the apartment behind them.
She buckled Al into the backseat of the unmarked cruiser, dumping the armload of bags in the passenger seat before getting in. Kate dug her phone from the side pocket of her purse and dialed Castle's number. It was early but the man would be heartbroken if she didn't tell him about a case. Navigating the light traffic New York had at all hours of the day, Kate waited until he answered with a sleepy "Hello?"
"Hey. We have a case."
She heard sheets ruffle as he sat up, heard a groan when he must have looked at the clock. "Seriously?"
"Yeah. You want me to pick you up in five or you gonna meet me at the precinct?" Kate asked, tapping her foot at the stoplight, red even though no one was coming from the other direction.
"Pick me up. I'll be waiting out on the sidewalk."
Kate re-routed toward SoHo, mentally planning a stop at the coffee shop after picking him up. They'd both need the caffeine to get through the morning and she could get her dad one of the danishes that he loved as payment for taking Al so early.
And Castle wasn't lying. He was huddled against the side of the building, hands in the deep pockets of his peacoat before he jogged over to the car. "Morning," he muttered as Kate tried to clear all of the bags off of his seat, tossing them into the backseat opposite of where Al was sleeping, head propped against the window.
"Morning," she responded, letting him capture her chin so he could kiss her briefly. "Sorry about the wake up call."
"Wouldn't have missed it for the world. We dropping her off at your dad's?"
Kate pulled away from the curb, squaring the block to get around the one-way streets. "Yeah. He's gonna bring her to school."
The coffee shop was just opening when Kate stopped across the street from the front doors. "Here," she said, reaching back for her wallet. "Go get us coffee and one of those raspberry danishes."
Castle pushed her offering of money away. "I'll cover this one. Want anything else?"
"Whatever you feel like." Kate still slipped the money into his pocket as he got out; they seriously needed to talk about the financial balance here before things got too bad with him buying everything. She glanced back at Al to make sure the seatbelt was still in place. The girl had her bare feet curled up under her body, the too-long pants of her "Puppy Love" pajamas featuring a spattering of dog bones and paw prints over the pants covering her toes while her fingers curled around the long-sleeves of the top, a puppy jumping into a pile of leaves printed on the front. Her hair was a mess and Kate hoped that her dad still had that brush and collection of hair barrettes hidden away somewhere.
Castle returned, putting the two coffee cups into the holder in the console while letting the two bags of pastries stay on his lap. "Next stop," he said, buckling his own seatbelt.
She insisted that he stay in the car as she ran Al up to her dad's apartment. With the backpack over her shoulder, bag of clothes in her elbow, and the bag with her dad's danish in one hand, Kate slid Al from the car. "Be back in two minutes."
The doorman of the building got the door for her, smiling as she hit the button for the elevator with her knee. Jim answered the front door, fully dressed and holding a mug of tea. "Hey, girls. She still sleeping?"
Kate nodded, dropping the backpack against the couch in the living room before walking down to the spare bedroom. "She didn't want to get up this morning. I hope it's not a cold the week before her birthday. She'd be miserable."
As soon as she was settled on the bed, Al curled up on her side, hugging the pillow to her face as she fell back into sleep. Kate closed the door a crack behind them, handing her dad the bag of clothes.
"I packed two shirts in case she throws a fit over one. I know you have some of her stuff here but she's getting to the point where she wants to pick her own clothes."
"I vaguely remember some of your clothing choices as a toddler," Jim commented, ignoring his daughter's little glare.
Kate put the pastry bag on the counter. "And there's payment." She pressed a kiss to her dad's cheek. "Thanks, Dad. I'll get her tonight."
Jim gave her a shove. "No payment necessary, though I do love those raspberry pastries. Go solve a crime, kid."
"Love you, Dad," Kate said, heading back out into the hall to run down the stairs. The doorman didn't have time to grab the door for her, looking confused as she jogged over to the car.
"Where's the murder?" Castle asked, sipping at the coffee and scrunching his face up when the scalding liquid hit his tongue.
Kate got onto one of the side roads, avoiding Fifth Avenue, as she watched for the right street sign. "Manhattan Music Museum. Esposito didn't give too many details."
"Interesting. Wonder if someone killed Beethoven with a poor rendition of his Symphony 7 or…"
"Something realistic," Kate interjected, stopping his theory session short. "Besides, wouldn't Beethoven have to have been a zombie in order to be killed again?"
"Detective Beckett, I had no idea you believed in zombies!" he said, grinning widely at her from the passenger seat. "That's absolutely lovely."
She didn't answer. He knew she didn't believe in zombies or ghosts or UFOs.
The museum was a few blocks from her dad's building, shining in the pre-dawn sun with red and blue and white lights flashing off of the windows of the surrounding buildings. Kate nosed her car as close as possible to the rest of the crowd, leaving her coffee in the car but reaching back for her purse to find her badge and gun in the depths.
"You know, the fact that you have a gun is so hot," he whispered in her ear as she passed him, holstering the weapon on her hip.
She shoved him, smiling as he stumbled a little, before giving their names to the uniform at the perimeter. Ryan met them at the door to the brick building, a brass plate stating that it was the home of the Manhattan Music Museum.
"Early morning calls are the worst," he complained, nodding toward the hallway, the three of them moving to the side of the hall when a horde of crime scene techs walk past.
"Part of the job," Kate reminded him, rounding a corner into a room filled with pianos situated next to clavichords and harpsichords. She wanted to trail a finger over the keys, hear the instrument climb up the octaves as she follows Ryan through the room and into the next chamber. Piano lessons as a kid remind her of how to play Amazing Grace, drone chords and all. "Who's our victim," she said instead of stopping to play the pianos.
Esposito was waiting just inside of the next area in the museum. "Director of the museum, a Mr. Nathaniel Paulhardt. Found this morning when one of the associate curators came to open the museum for the day."
In a room filled with string instruments, the yellow tape around the man's body on the floor is a stark contrast. Nathaniel Paulhardt was an older man, brown hair going grey at the temples, laugh lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes visible.
"And he was killed by bow?" Castle remarked, head tilted to the side to study the body.
Lanie walked in front the other room, clipboard against her thigh as she nodded. "Powers of observation say 'yes' to that statement, Castle. Mr. Paulhardt was stabbed using one of the bows found in the room." She pointed to the missing spot on the wall. "Perp used whatever he could get his hands on."
"So not a planned murder," Kate muttered, circling around Paulhardt. "Does he have a next-of-kin we can call? See if he had any personal enemies?"
"Working on it," Ryan said. "The curator, a Miss Abigail Williams, is in the brass room down the hall. She might be able to shed some light on exactly why he was killed."
Kate stepped away from the body, jerking her head toward Castle to get him to follow before Esposito stopped them. "There is something else you should know, Beckett." She raised a brow, glancing over to Ryan who shrugged. "Robbery might be stopping by the precinct later to collaborate on the case."
"Why?"
"Well, one of the Stradivari violas that the museum owns was stolen. Just letting you know that we're gonna have to work together on this one."
Kate sighed, nodding. "Of course we are. Come on, Castle. Let's talk to Miss Williams."
Their white board was filling up slowly. The typical photos were clipped up, descriptions written out under each of them, and a timeline being worked out in different color markers. Kate had given in and eaten the muffin Castle had bought for her at the coffee shop, microwaving her coffee which had gone cold in the car. With a piece of the crusty top of the chocolate chip muffin in hand, she studied the board with Castle at her side, hoping that something would jump out at them to explain why the director of a music museum had been run through with a bow.
"Maybe some musician wanted to borrow the viola and Paulhardt said no," Castle mused, sipping the coffee that he had transferred from the to-go cup into a mug.
"So the musician killed the guy and stole the viola?" Kate returned, raising a brow in his direction. "Seems a little over-the-top, don't you think?"
"Oh, I've seen people do a whole lot worse." The voice was unfamiliar, coming from behind them.
Kate and Castle turned to see another man standing on the other side of Kate's desk, hands in his pockets. She recognized him, faintly, from passings in the hallway or riding the elevator. His dark hair was mussed, probably from the repeated motion of running his hands through it. Still, Kate could tell that there was once hair gel in the man's hair, long gone now. Cool blue eyes watched them.
Kate pushed off the desk, circling around to stand in front of the stranger. "And you are?"
"Detective Tom Demming. Robbery," he said, holding out a hand. "I'm working as liaison for the Manhattan Music Museum case."
She shook the offered hand. "Detective Kate Beckett. And this is Richard Castle," she said, turning so that Castle could edge in between her and her desk.
"The writer?"
Castle shrugged, shaking Demming's hand a little firmer than strictly necessary. "On my better days."
Demming glanced from Castle to Kate, a brow raised at her choice of partner before he nodded toward the white board. "What do you have so far?"
Kate let her smile follow the other man as she stepped behind him. "Mr. Nathaniel Paulhardt was found dead this morning. Someone used one of the bows for a violin to run him through. Our medical examiner is working to find out if Paulhardt was drugged before being killed, but no word yet. We're running down enemies that might have wanted him dead. Maybe we can cross-check with the list you might have of potential thieves to see if there's a connect?" When she turned to face Demming, Kate found him standing much closer than expected. She blinked but didn't step back. Her eyes flicked down, focused on the man's lips before going north again to his eyes. "So? Do you have anything to bring to the table, Detective?"
As Demming rambled on about his team running down suspects with similar M.O.s and a fondness for musical instruments that might be popular on the black market, Kate could feel Castle edging closer and closer to her back. His fingers searched out the hem of her shirt under the blazer, sneaking under the white v-neck to touch her skin. Kate watched Demming's eyes drift to where Castle's arm disappeared under the fabric of the navy blazer but beyond a twitch of his mouth, Kate had to give him props for not reacting.
Trying to stop the masculine show of ownership before it got too far, Kate stepped forward, grabbing a marker from the well below the whiteboard. She snagged Demming's wrist, angling the legal pad in his hand with his research on it so she could see it. "Let me take down the names you have so far and we can see if things match up at any point." The marker squeaked as she wrote out the few names in the corner of the whiteboard, capping the marker and tapping it against her thigh.
"And I'll take your names." Demming took a pen from the mug on Kate's desk, grinning at Castle before sitting in the old brown chair next to the desk and scribbling out the names up on the white board.
Kate opened one of the top drawers, pushing aside the collection of pens and Post-It notes she stuffed in there, she found a pile of business cards wrapped up in a rubber band. Tugging one from the bundle, Kate flipped it over and took the pen from Demming's hand. "Here's my desk line and cell. Give me a call if you find anything?"
Demming nodded, still smiling as he tucked the card into the top of the legal pad. "Will do."
As the Robbery detective headed back toward the stairs, Kate sat in her chair with a gentle exhale. Castle had reclaimed his chair, glaring at Demming's back as the other man retreated. "He seems nice." Castle turned his glare to Kate, softening the expression when she raised a brow. "What?"
"Oh, nothing."
Ryan and Esposito got off the elevator, the former waving his notebook in the air as they circled the divider, signaling that they had hit a jackpot.
"Find stuff with our vic's next-of-kin?"
"You bet," Esposito said, taking the seat at the desk across from her.
Ignoring Castle's strange looks, Kate spun in her chair, leaning her forearms on the desk. "Share with the class. What did you find?"