Disclaimer: All these characters belong to ABC and Mr. Marlowe
"Hey, Lanie," Kate began, strolling into the morgue. "Have you got any new info for our case?"
"Sorry, Honey. I've got nothing," Lanie replied, turning to face the detective.
Scrunching her features in frustration, Kate rubbed her forehead. "What about dental records? Were you able to determine our victim's real identity through any of those?"
"Nope. None of his aliases went to the dentist."
"Damn," Kate dejectedly sighed. "This is just ridiculous. We have run every lead possible and we are getting nowhere," she informed, leaning against an autopsy table.
Looking at her watch, Kate stood straight and composed herself. "Alright, well I have to go meet Castle for lunch. Call me if you get anything, okay," she instructed, before turning away and making her way to the exit.
Just as she was about to push open the double doors, Lanie cleared her throat.
"What?" Kate questioned, spinning back to the medical examiner.
"Do not think you can mention that Writer Boy of yours and just walk out of here," Lanie disciplined, resting a hand on her hip. "I want to hear all the juicy details."
Kate rolled her eyes. "You mean Castle," she corrected, "And there are no juicy details."
Confidently striding towards her friend, Lanie crossed her arms in front of her chest. "No way. Do not lie to me, Girl. Don't think I haven't been reading the papers."
"What are you talking about?" Kate queried.
Making her way to a nearby cabinet, Lanie pulled open a draw and collected a handful of paper clippings. Walking back towards Kate, she placed them on the autopsy table in front of them.
Looking up, Lanie pointed to the colourful display now arranged on the metal surface. "These are what I'm talking about."
Allowing her eyes to drift down, Kate swallowed. Spread out in front of her, were newspaper articles. Newspaper articles all about her 'progressing romance' with Castle.
Kate turned to her friend in disbelief. "Lanie, as if you've been collecting these!"
"Of course I have! You haven't been telling me a damn thing, so this is my way of keeping up to date."
Turning back to the table, Kate let out a sigh. "Lanie, they don't mean anything."
"Kate, you're smiling," Lanie argued, lifting up a picture as proof.
Kate gave her friend a disapproving frown and pursed her lips. There was no way she could even try to deny it. Lanie was holding concrete evidence in her hands.
"Please, he occasionally makes me laugh, nothing more," she nonchalantly dismissed. "What's the big deal?"
"Honey, are you even listening to yourself?" Lanie queried, closing the space between them. "Tell me the last person who has made you laugh like that," she defended, pointing to another photo. "Hell, name me the last person who has made you laugh at all."
Keeping her features poised, Kate adamantly rejected her friend's suggestion. "Lanie, nothing between us is going to happen. I can assure you."
Unfortunately, Lanie didn't seem to buy it.
"So that's your plan? Just ignore these," Lanie began, motioning to the articles in front of them, "And then in three and a half weeks time you are going to walk away from him?"
Kate stared down the medical examiner. "Yes."
"Move on with your life?"
"Yes."
"Never see him again?" Lanie further reiterated.
"Yes. Now, if that's all, I think I'm going to go," Kate concluded, walking off and pushing open the doors.
"It's going to happen, Kate. You can deny it all you want, but it's going to happen!" Lanie declared in conclusion.
"Goodbye, Lanie," Kate called from the hallway, before letting the doors swing back and close behind her.
Stepping into the bullpen, Kate gazed over the scene displayed before her. Sitting at their desks, were Ryan and Esposito. Huddling around them, was Castle. All three men were laughing, attention focused on something Castle was showing them on his phone.
"Castle, what are you doing?" she questioned, before coming to a halt at her own desk.
He briefly looked up, before focusing his attention back down and letting out a chuckle. "Oh, you know, just chilling with my boys," he casually responded.
Kate raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Great, so they're your boys now. Remind me again why you need to go on dates with me?" she teased, opening up her case notes.
Looking over at the detectives next to him, Castle shook his head in mock disappointment. "See how she treats me? By the time we're finished, my self-esteem is going to be way down here," he complained, lowering his hand to the floorboards. Sitting up straighter, he turned to Kate. "You know, if I need therapy, it's on you."
"Don't worry, Castle," Esposito comforted, placing his hand on the writer's shoulder. "We've got your back."
Hearing their interaction, Kate let out a grin. "Considering the little bromance you've got going on there, Castle, I'm pretty sure you're self-esteem will be fine," she assured, before making her way to the murder board.
Standing in front of the large display, Kate offered a frown, before crossing her arms in annoyance.
Noticing her change in behavior, Castle rose to his feet.
"What's wrong with you?" he questioned, making his way towards her.
Kate gave him a fleeting glance before once again focusing on the whiteboard. "Oh, nothing."
Castle narrowed his eyes. "Come on, you and I both know that when a woman says nothing is wrong, everything is wrong. Besides, I can sense some serious irritated vibes radiating from you," he informed, circling his hand out in front of him, "And for once I don't think it's because of me." He paused, before once again considering her. "Wait, it isn't, is it?"
Kate offered him a slight smile as reassurance. "No, just stuck on a case, that's all."
Ignoring his interest, Kate turned to Ryan and Esposito. "Have you guys come up with anything new?"
"Nah," Ryan sighed. "Any luck getting an ID from Lanie?"
"No. I think I will take the files with me to Remys and brainstorm over lunch," she notified, making her way back to her desk.
"Ah, maybe I could help," Castle apprehensively suggested.
Turning around, Kate eyed the writer who was gazing over the detailed whiteboard.
"I mean, I might be able to offer some useful insight," he further justified.
Kate let out an unbelieving chuckle. "I don't think so, Castle."
"You never know, I could be helpful!"
Displaying a disagreeing glare, Kate answered. "Castle, it's a real murder, not an outline for your next book. You can't possibly help."
Collecting the files from her desk, she turned back to her colleagues. "Alright, I'm going to go. If you guys come up with anything, give me a call," she instructed.
"You ready, Castle?" she questioned, turning around.
"Yeah," he sighed, before taking one last glance over the information in front of him and following Kate to the elevator.
Sitting at lunch, Kate had her files spread in front of her. She had kept her eyes focused on her notes their whole meal, but still couldn't disregard the man sitting opposite her. He was slightly leaning across the table, casually attempting to read her case files upside down.
She was going to say something about fifteen minutes ago, but found his efforts somewhat amusing. He tried his best to remain unnoticed, but he wasn't doing a very good job.
"Don't think I can't see what you're doing," she dryly informed, keeping her head facing downwards.
Suddenly sitting back, Castle quickly grabbed his milkshake. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he mumbled, placing the straw in his mouth.
Kate lifted her head in time to see him comically dart his eyes and loudly slurp the last of his drink, doing his best to appear innocent.
Raising a suspicious eyebrow, Kate raised the large file in front of her face, essentially blocking his view.
A few seconds later, Castle's head popped up over the top of her pages. "Why don't you just let me help you?"
Twisting her lips, Kate dropped her file on the table. "Castle, you're a civilian. I'm not letting you read over police reports. Besides, what do you think you could provide that a team of highly trained detectives hasn't?"
"Well, I'm a crime novelist. I'm literally paid to think like a murderer. Surely that would have to count for something," he argued. "Just let me have a read. I have a different way of thinking, so I might notice something you've missed."
He had a point. But still, there was no way she was letting him further interfere with her work.
Kate shook her head and provided another explanation. "Castle, I don't have a partner for a reason. I work better by myself."
"Yeah, and how's that going for you?" he sarcastically questioned, pointing to her blank notepad.
Kate offered a frown. "The answer is in here somewhere, I just have to find it," she retorted, before continuing her reading.
"So let me help. How do you know you prefer working by yourself if you don't let someone assist you now and then? You never know, we may be able to bounce off each other," he confidently justified, before reviewing his choice of words. "Woah, that sounded a lot dirtier then I meant it…"
Kate narrowed her eyes in a glare. He was adamant, but she still couldn't be convinced. For all she knew, he only wanted to help to develop a plot for his next novel-
Almost as if he could hear her thoughts, Castle pressed on. "Come on, I have no ulterior motives, I swear," he reassured, as he stole a handful of her discarded fries. "You need to learn to embrace The Castle," he mumbled, mouth full of potato.
"Embrace The Castle?" Kate mocked. "How do you even come up with this stuff?"
"I don't know, actually," he swallowed, tilting his head in thought. "Sometimes I even surprise myself."
Kate watched him steal a few more of her fries and chewed her lip, considering his offer. He didn't seem like giving up anytime soon, and they were at a standstill on their case...
"Seriously, what is there to lose?" he finally offered.
Kate let out a sigh. "Fine," she huffed.
She couldn't believe she actually agreed, and apparently, neither could he.
"Really?" he questioned, his head shooting up in shock.
"Yes. Now hurry up before I change my mind," she sighed.
"Yes!" he smiled.
Kate reached for her files, aiming to spin them around so he could read them. Before she had a chance however, Castle lifted from his seat and moved around the table to position himself in the vacant spot next to her.
"Okay, what have we got," he questioned, rubbing his hands together in enthusiasm and fixing his eyes on the reports.
Kate took a moment to adjust to his proximity. Despite falling on him when they met, they had never been this close to each other. There were only a few inches that separated her thigh and shoulder from his, and the smell of his cologne suddenly overwhelmed her senses.
Closing her eyes, Kate firmly dismissed her own thoughts. This was absurd. She just spent a whole conversation justifying to Lanie that she didn't like him- Because she didn't- So why the hell could she feel a rush of warmth spread through her body?
Kate tentatively eyed him from her peripheral vision. He didn't even seem fazed.
Clearing her throat, she forced away any more stupid thoughts and focused on the notes in front of them.
"Okay, well our victim was beaten to death in his bed with a baseball bat," she explained, pointing to the crime scene photo. "He rented his home under the name Ben Armstrong, but in our search of his place, we found his bank statements. He had multiple accounts, each with different names, so his real identity remains unknown."
"Ooh, multiple personality disorder. I like it."
"No, Castle. He was a con artist."
"Oh."
"In looking over his financials, we found he had five large deposits in total placed into his accounts over the past six months. We managed to track down those people and in doing so, we discovered that Ben pretended to be a handyman offering cheaper work. With offers too good to be true, they hired him, but the items he was paid to repair ended up being worse for wear and they ended up largely out of pocket. Before they could do anything about it though, Ben would disappear."
Looking up to face him, Kate continued. "His work as a con man seems the most likely reason for his murder."
Gazing over the photos of the suspects, Castle narrowed his eyes mid thought. "So, you're saying that one of these people who paid him for work, killed him?" he further clarified.
"It's the only theory we have, but that's where we come undone. Every single one of them has rock solid alibis."
"Alright. Well, who have you got?" he questioned, preparing for the influx of information he was about to receive.
"First, we have Mr. And Mrs. McCarthy," she began, displaying a photo of the couple. "But they were both on a trip overseas for their fiftieth wedding anniversary. They have passports and statements from the resort they were staying at backing them up."
Returning the image back to the folder, she took out another. "Next, we have Susan Finch. She was at her son's birthday party at the time, with over thirty witness statements that support her claims."
Castle picked up her photo, gazing over it before handing it back to Kate.
"We also have Samantha Withers. She has a broken arm though, so along with her small frame it would have been impossible for her to beat our vic to death."
"And that then leaves Fletcher Peterson. Although, he is in hospital and hardly able to feed himself, so it couldn't have been him either," she finished on a sigh.
Castle shuffled through the images of suspects in front of him, before discovering an image of what appeared to be a father and son that Kate didn't show him. "What about this one? You said that there were five large deposits, so why didn't you mention this guy?"
"That's Mark Duncan, although he died two months ago, so it clearly wasn't him," she explained.
"How did he die?" he questioned, staring at the family photo.
"Ah," she began, looking over her notes, "He was on a small fishing boat he actually paid Ben to repair, although since he didn't do it properly, the boat took on water while they were out. Both he and his twelve year old son, Anthony, drowned."
Kate gave him a moment, before finally speaking up. "So, any insights you would like to share?"
Castle paused briefly, and then answered. "Well, if I was writing it, the murder definitely would have been performed out of anger and vengeance, so I agree that one of these people must have done it," he reported, waving his hand over the suspect images on the table.
"The most important thing when developing a plot, is to make sure that the reader will buy what you're selling them. I mean, what would encourage these seemingly ordinary people to commit such a violent act as murder?" he rhetorically questioned, rotating his head to look at her. "The thing that would make the most sense, would be that the person who killed him, was the person who lost the most."
Rearranging the papers before her, Kate pulled out a photo. "Well, that would be Fletcher Peterson. He lost half of his life savings on Ben's botchy roof repair job."
Castle shook his head and pulled out a different image. "No, it wouldn't. It would be Mark Duncan. He lost his son."
"Yes, but he also lost his own life, Castle. He couldn't have done it," she sighed.
"But just imagine what a great twist that would be," he eagerly continued, directing his attention to Kate. "Here you have a list of suspects, all seemingly incapable of committing the crime. The last person you would suspect would be the one who is dead. It would be the perfect alibi."
"Yes, because he is dead," she sternly stated, sarcastically rolling her eyes. "Look, don't worry about it, okay," she replied, beginning to gather the files.
That's what she got for actually listening to him.
"No, I'm serious! Just let me check something," he quickly spoke, reaching for the papers.
"Castle, this isn't one of your novels," Kate exhaled, sitting back and allowing him to search through the pile. "What you're suggesting is crazy."
"You say crazy, I say genius," he mumbled. Pulling out a document, Castle widened his eyes. "Aha! Look at this. It says right here that Anthony's body was found, but Mark's never was. He was only presumed dead."
"Show me that," Kate hurriedly huffed, snatching the paper from his grasp.
Castle was right, but since he was declared to be dead at the time, no one even considered him being a suspect.
Once again looking at the image of Mark and Anthony, Castle noticed something. "Hey, did you say that the murder weapon was a baseball bat?"
"Yeah. Why?" Kate casually queried, eyes remaining focused on the document in her hands.
"Check out this photo. What is his son wearing?"
Kate looked up to the image he was showing her. "A baseball uniform," she whispered in realisation, before lifting her eyes to Castle.
"It totally makes sense," he began, enthused by his discovery. "Ben scams Mark out of his money, says he can repair his boat for an offer he can't refuse. Once his work is done, Mark decides to take the boat out with his son, but of course, because he didn't do it properly, the boat was faulty."
Castle stopped, allowing Kate time to catch on to his theory.
Pausing to take in everything he said, Kate hesitantly continued, eyes locked on the writer. "So, the boat begins to leak, eventually sinks, and they both are in the water -"
"Mark's body was never recovered, so let's just presume that he didn't die. He manages to swim to shore without anyone realising, and once on dry land, he hears confirmation that his son died. Hurt over his loss, he realises that Ben didn't repair the boat efficiently, blames him, and plans to avenge his son-"
No way...
"So, he stays in hiding," Kate eagerly interrupted, ever so slightly leaning into him, "Letting everyone presume that he died with him, knowing that he would therefore never be suspected of Ben's murder-"
Nodding his head as she spoke, Castle quickly interceded, almost unnoticeably slanting towards her. "So he spends the next two months tracking him down, watching, and learning his daily routine-"
"And then when he's ready, he grabs his son's baseball bat, and with nothing left to lose, breaks into our vic's apartment and beats him to death," she spat out, eyes wide with excitement and displaying a large smile.
"All in the name of his son," Castle finished, mirroring her grin.
"That was..."
"Amazing," Castle interjected, enlarging his smile.
Suddenly, as if waking from a slumber, Kate was suddenly struck by his presence. In all their theorising, they somehow managed to pull towards each other without realising, but now, it was glaringly obvious. Sitting next to each other, their grinning faces were only inches apart.
On an impulse unbeknown to her, Kate had the rapid urge to let her eyes flicker downwards, gaze upon his li-
No. What the hell was she doing? Focus, Kate. Eyes up. Keep those damn, wandering eyes up. But they were close, way too close...
Abruptly, almost as if Castle too had the same realisation, they simultaneously leaned back, eyes wide.
Both hurriedly stood, Castle erupting into some sort of coughing fit and Kate rapidly trying to gather her files from the table.
"Oh, look at the time," Castle fumbled, looking at his watch and attempting to compose himself. "I- ah, I need to go meet Alexis, so I better get going."
Now holding her files in a pathetic excuse of a pile, Kate nervously nodded her head. "Yeah, I guess I should probably see if I can find anything on Mark," she replied, patting the stack in her hands.
Seriously. When had this suddenly become so awkward?
"Well, ah, good luck with that," he nodded with a wide expression still covering his face.
"Yeah, thanks," she mumbled. "And you have fun with Alexis."
Idiot. Just shut up and leave. Now.
"Okay, see you, Castle," she managed to reply before spinning around in search of the door.
"Yeah, bye," she heard him rapidly reply, before she exited onto the busy streets, merging with the crowd.
Quickly turning at the nearest corner, Kate stopped and took a gasp of fresh air. It was adrenaline. That's all it was. She simply got caught up in the theorising, and was taken aback by his closeness.
Justifying her thoughts, Kate shook her head and let out a huff, before beginning the journey back to the precinct.
Just wanted to say a massive thanks to everyone for your feedback on the last chapter. It was absolutely amazing!
BareWriter