Beckett raised her mug of coffee to her lips as she appraised the information Ryan had tacked to the whiteboard first thing this morning.

"Credit card was used here-" he pointed to the map on the board, indicating a location in Queens, "-and this is what CCTV captured." He held out the picture. Grainy in its black and white, the picture was nevertheless clear.

Beckett took another sip of the coffee, savoring the last of the day's caffeine allocation. After this one she would switch to decaf. "Well, that's not Carl Aston," she said.

"What's Emma doing with Carl's credit card?" Ryan asked as Castle glared at the blue-haired librarian's DMV photograph on the murder board.

"Secret affair?" he offered.

"Maybe," Beckett said, but she frowned, shaking her head no.

"It might fit, though?" Ryan asked. "If Carl killed Johnson-"

"But why? I mean, if Emma was having an affair with Carl, and Jemima was in a secret relationship with someone else, surely Carl would just end things with Jemima?"

"And once again it circles back to Jemima," Castled mused.

"Indeed," Beckett agreed. "But if - and at this stage it's a pretty big if - she's our killer, it still doesn't explain where Carl Aston is or why Emma has his credit card."

"Coffee?" Castle asked, handing a cup across the desk.

"If only it were caffeinated..." Beckett reached for it anyway, but he could feel his face fall.

Of course she wanted regular coffee. If she was worried about her identity, it made sense that she would want to break out of the current routine, mix things up a bit instead of the conservative approach she'd taken to her life's blood since that little stick had shown two lines. "Sorry. I thought you'd had one already, and-"

She shook her head, cutting him off. "Decaf is fine," she said, and he nodded, pushing the musings back and handing her the mug. "And maybe we can take an early lunch, get out of here for a bit?" She gestured to her desk. "I'm swimming in paperwork here; a change of scenery would be nice."

"Maybe that French place?" Castle suggested. He sank down into the couch opposite, bringing his own coffee to his lips.

"Maybe." Beckett wrinkled her nose. "But I think the baby just wants a burger."

"The baby, huh?" He grinned. So far this morning Beckett seemed far happier than she had last night. She'd walked into the precinct with a lightness in her step that had been lacking over the last few days, and she'd actually smiled at the boys when she'd greeted them at the whiteboard this morning.

A smile danced on her lips. "And a strawberry milkshake."

"Might as well start as I mean to continue, and give this baby everything she wants," he agreed.

"I have no doubt she'll be a daddy's girl." Beckett ran a hand over the swell of her stomach. "She's kicking. She likes the idea of Remy's."

Castle gazed at his wife, enraptured by her radiance. Thirty-seven weeks pregnant, and she was amazing. When other people in her position might have taken leave long before now - they could certainly afford it - she'd been insistent on her dedication to the job, and whatever melancholy had caught her yesterday seemed to have evaporated.

A rap at the door caught their attention, and they both turned their heads as Esposito entered, his focus on his cell phone. "Ryan just sent me something," he said. "Financials."

"Carl Aston's?" Beckett asked, but Espo shook his head.

"The library's."

"So what are we looking at here?" Beckett asked as she ran her eyes over the papers in front of her.

"We did a thorough run-through of Emma's financials, and Carl's, and nothing looked amiss-"

"Except for Emma using Carl's credit card last night," Esposito clarified, to Ryan's nod.

"Except for that. So we looked at Jemima's financials, again, all good, nothing out of the ordinary, but what did they all have in common?"

"The library," Castle said.

"Right. So as manager, Carl has a credit card for his branch. Mostly it's incidentals. For databases and the big book purchases they have preferred suppliers, vetted processes, but if they have an author talk or something, they use the credit card to purchase refreshments."

"But not, I'm guessing, eight hundred dollars at Saks one day, thirty dollars at Sephora the next?" Beckett said.

Esposito smirked. "Nope. But you know who likes to shop at Saks and Sephora?"

"Emma Miller," Beckett and Castle said in unison.

"What am I doing here again?" Emma asked as Beckett entered the interrogation room.

Beckett slid into her seat - less gracefully, perhaps, than she had in the past, but as long as she was still working there was no reason to let the boys have all the fun - before answering with a question. "You have a lot of credit-card debt, don't you, Emma?"

The woman opposite paled beneath her makeup, but held her gaze steady. "So? Lots of people have credit-card debt."

"It's hard to get ahead," Beckett agreed. "New York City is expensive. I mean rent is what, two thirds of your income? Not like Ohio. I mean, in Ohio you had a whole place to yourself, lots of disposable income, and here you're sharing with two roommates, working insane hours, and all for what?"

"I love my job," Emma countered, jutting her chin up in defiance.

"Not to mention student loans," Beckett continued, and Emma nodded warily.

"Right..."

"So tell me, Emma, with all your expenses, how do you afford the extras?" Emma glared at her, and Beckett smiled back; the woman was already defensive, and that usually meant she was a step closer to a confession.

"What extras?" she asked, her voice cracking now, her confidence gone.

"Your wardrobe, for one," Beckett said, sliding an itemized bill across the table. "Makeup, for another. Shoes, of course." At that last point, she frowned, the memory of running down criminals in sky-high heels just that - a memory. Pregnancy and high heels didn't go together quite the way she had hoped.

"I was meant to get branch manager!" Emma exploded all at once, rage rolling off her entire body as she trembled with anger. "That was the whole reason I moved to the City. I wanted a fresh start after that, that- thing, in Ohio."

"That thing where you assaulted your colleague?"

"You know what?" Emma snapped. "It's not in any of the reports, but he started it. He hit on me, day in, day out, wouldn't take no for an answer. Yeah, I assaulted him all right. Slammed an encyclopedia into his face when he tried to grope me."

Beckett blinked. Indeed, none of that had been in any reports.

"So yes, I wanted a fresh start. And my friend from grad school said she could get me a job managing the Grand Central branch, but she wasn't the only one on the interview panel, so I ended up at the Mid-Manhattan branch as a librarian, which was fine, except the salary…" She sighed, burying her face in her hands. "I just couldn't make it work. And I had access to all the library's credit cards so… you got me. I made some bad decisions, and I stole money from the library."

"And Carl's personal card? Why did you have that?"

"He left his wallet in the lunchroom when he was at our branch for a meeting two days ago." She shook her head. "It was stupid. I wanted to get back at him for getting the job I was meant to have."

"Okay, I think I'm getting this, Emma," Beckett said, rolling her shoulders as she spoke in a futile attempt to get comfortable. "But I need you to explain one more thing. You stole from the library - using Carl's work account - and you stole from Carl himself. So how does Johnson tie into this? Did he find out? Is that why you killed him?"

"Johnson?" Emma stared at Beckett, her expression dumbfounded. "I stole money, yes, but I certainly didn't kill Johnson!"