They worked on the puzzle in contented silence for quite a while. Without really discussing it, Beckett worked on the edges of the puzzle on her side and Castle did the side he was sitting on. Both frequently looked at the box for comparison and they managed to get the entire outer frame completed and they were working on individual patches of different foliage when Beckett's phone rang, the sudden noise startling both of them and making them grin sheepishly. Beckett picked up her phone, looked at the display to see who it was.

"Javier," she told Castle as she answered it. "Beckett."

"Hey." Esposito's voice was a little stressed, telling her before he even said something that he thought he had some information she might want to hear. "We got an ID on the boyfriend."

"Yeah? Who is he?"

"Andrew Mahr. We confirmed it with the property management people."

"Do you have him in custody?"

If so, they'd be able to let Castle go home – but more importantly, they could see if looking at the guy would trigger more memories.

"No. We checked with his work – he's a registered nursing assistant at a rehab facility – and they said that he hasn't been in the last two days. Ryan's asking around right now to see if anyone has some friends of his we can check with."

"Keep me informed, will you?"

"Of course. How are things going?"

She met Castle's eyes – he'd been watching her as she talked with Esposito – and smiled.

"We're fine."

"Let me know if you need a break."

"I'm good, thanks."

They ended the call and Castle couldn't keep silent.

"They found him?"

"They have a name," she confirmed. "Andrew Mahr." She watched for any sign of recognition, but wasn't surprised when Castle shook his head.

"That's not his name."

Beckett shrugged.

"It's the one the guys got from the property management people. And from his work. He's a nurse's assistant at a rehab place. Sound familiar?"

Castle hesitated, and she knew he was trying to make himself remember something – anything – that might help, but she could see the frustration that had marked his expression from the moment she told him the man's name.

"No."

Beckett reached out and touched his hand, trying to reassure him that it was all right for him to not remember just then. Then she remembered something else.

"When you came to my place the other night – all beat up and bleeding – you wouldn't let me call an ambulance. Maybe you saw this guy Andrew in scrubs?"

He looked down at their hands and was forced to shake his head again. He didn't remember going to her house – or anything until he'd woken up there the next day.

"Bridget called him Jeremy," Castle told her, firmly. "I heard her."

"Bridget?"

"What?"

"Who's Bridget?"

She saw his face light up in sudden excitement.

"The woman," Castle said. "Her name is Bridget."

"The guys are saying it's Linda."

"They have to be fake names," he said, letting go of her hand and standing up. He didn't have anywhere to go, though, and no white board to look at. Instead he ended up turning back toward her. "It's the only thing that makes sense. Why else would I know them by one name and everyone else knows them by another?"

"You could be thinking of someone else…" Who knew what was going on in his head?

"I'm not," he told her.

"How can you be sure?" she asked.

"Because I don't know their last names, Kate. These are the ones I can't remember…"

"Why would these people need aliases?"

"Why would they beat me up and keep me locked in a closet?" he asked, agitated and pacing. "I don't know who they are, or what they wanted, or what it had to do with me, but I know that I remember her calling him Jeremy and him calling her Bridget. And they argued all the time."

"About what?"

He stopped. His face suddenly so pale that she thought he was going to pass out. Obviously something unsettling had come back to him.

"About killing me."

Beckett got up and walked him over to the couch and then pushed him down onto it and sat beside him, close enough to touch him if she needed to calm him or hold him, her eyes locked with his.

"Why?" she asked him. "Why would they want to kill you? Are you sure you don't know them?"

"I don't know them, Kate."

"Do you remember anything else they were saying?"

Castle shook his head.

"It's coming and going in pieces. I know he was mad at her and he was the one who wanted me dead… And I think that they were arguing about something else, too."

"What?"

"I'm not sure… I'm sorry."

His face was a study of different emotions, and she could definitely understand why he had hesitated before going into his own closet. Locked in a closet, tied up and listening to people arguing about whether to kill him or not? She was surprised that he wasn't more messed up than he was. Probably the only thing keeping him sane was the fact that he was trying so hard to remember. Impulsively, Beckett touched his cheek, feeling the stubble that had grown in since she'd shaved him.

"You don't have to be sorry," she told him. "You're doing great."

He rolled his eyes at that; clearly not as sure about that as she was, and it made Beckett smile a little.

"I'm going to call Esposito," she said. "And have them look for any kind of alias for Andrew and Linda – or anything suspicious that they can find."

"And a connection to Jimmy the Cane," Castle added.

Beckett nodded.

"While I do that, why don't you set up a board game?"

"Tired of the puzzle?"

"My eyes need a break, and I think you do, too. We can leave it and try to finish it tonight or tomorrow."

Castle knew she was trying to distract her, and he appreciated it. Enough so that he didn't even argue.

"Can we play cards?"

She stood up and headed for the table where she'd left her phone.

"Go Fish?"

He smiled.

"If that's what you want to play."

"Gin it is."