Shared Obsession Chapter 95
Finding it increasingly hard to sleep in a bed that seems wrenchingly empty, Castle drowses in a chair, with the loft's door in ear and eyeshot. Kate's been gone for three days, not long in the normal scheme of things, but to him, it's an eternity. He hasn't even received any messages from her. Either she's not allowed to send them – or she can't. The second option flails at him, like a demon in the dark. He raises his hands against the almost palpable attack. "Leave me alone!"
A key turns in the door and Kate stands in the glow from the hallway. "I could go to my place."
Arms wide, Castle can't cover the distance between them fast enough. His arms engulf her thin frame. "I was afraid…. Never mind! You're here."
"Unless you crush me."
Castle loosens his hold enough for Kate to breathe. "Sorry, I'm just so glad to see you."
"Same here. I missed you. But it was worth it."
"So Coonan gave you what you needed to go after Bracken?"
"He gave it to the AG's task force. And since Bracken's crimes crossed state lines as well as international boundaries, the AG's giving it to a team under a special prosecutor. They'll be working with the Task Force, but with a wall between them on strategies for keeping Coonan safe until he can testify in court."
"To minimize the possibility of a fatal leak," Castle assumes.
"Right."
"Unless you count Watergate, special prosecutors aren't exactly known for their speed. How long is all that going to take?" Castle asks.
"From the murmurs I heard, several agencies are anxious to grease the wheels and get Bracken out of the picture. So it should be going pretty fast – or fast for the DOJ. We're still going to have a lot of waiting in between."
"I'm sure Montgomery will be more than happy to give you something to fill the time. But if he's keeping to his usual schedule, he won't be making an appearance at the 12th until eight tomorrow morning."
"I'll probably see him as he's leaving. The boys and I are scheduled to rotate to the night shift for a while."
"Which will give us almost 24 hours until you have to go in. So what would you like to do now?"
Kate sniffs herself. "Get a shower."
"Want someone to scrub your back?"
"I'd love it."
Castle gazes around the bullpen at a cast of characters his readers would regard with disbelief if he included them in a novel. "What is it about full moons that brings out the crazies?"
"I don't know, Castle, you tell me," Kate responds as a woman Detective Rosalyn Karpowski is trying to subdue, lands on Kate's desk. "Hey, Karpowski! How's it going?" Kate asks.
The curly-haired brunette detective shrugs, pulling her suspect to her feet. "Oh, same old, same old, how's it going with you?"
"The same," Kate responds.
"The same if you mean waiting for someone to finally haul Bracken's ass to prison," Castle whispers. "But about the moon." He pulls out his phone. "Hmm, according to this, there's no scientific evidence supporting the lunar effect. Maybe the NYPD should invite the researchers in here. But I don't think there's room. You know, according to this article, homicides actually decrease on the full moon. You think murderers are afraid of werewolves?" Castle quips.
Kate's landline sounds. She picks it up and starts making notes on a small pad. "Uh-huh. Got it. Right." She hangs up. "Someone wasn't scared of werewolves. We've got a body. Ryan and Esposito were getting pizza near the crime scene when the call came in. They're meeting us there."
Ryan points at a female victim lying on a couch in an office decorated in soothing colors. The pump of a fish tank burbles as he speaks. CSU techs are taking photos of the room. "Ashley Cosway, thirty-two, couples therapist. Her husband found her just before midnight."
"He was picking her up after the St. John's game at the garden," Esposito adds.
"Any witnesses?" Kate asks.
"Not so far. But I did find a receipt for that takeout spread." Esposito points to Chinese food containers on a nearby table. "Dinner for two," Kate observes.
"With the husband taking in a sporting event," Castle notes. "That's convenient. Maybe her clients aren't the only couples that need therapy."
"The receipt is from the Szechuan Wok over on ninth," Esposito reports.
"So they liked it hot," Castle assumes.
"They liked something, hot," Esposito agrees. "The credit card number on the receipt doesn't match any of the cards in the vic's wallet."
"Did the husband recognize the number?" Kate asks.
"Nope," Ryan replies.
Kate picks up the evidence bag holding the receipt. "It was charged at six-oh-two. What did Lanie say was the TOD?"
"Around eight," Ryan says.
"So her dinner companion may have been the last person to see Ashley alive," Castle figures. "And usually, the last person to see someone alive is the killer."
"That's a bit of a jump, Castle," Kate cautions. "We'll run the card and see what we get."
Castle ambles over to the fish tank. "Silent witnesses. These little guys saw the whole thing. Too bad the forensics team can't attach electrodes to their little fishy brains and see what they saw."
"Well someone who can talk saw something," Kate declares.
"I'll tell you what I saw," Lanie interrupts, entering the room in a low-cut evening dress. "Multiple gunshot entries, small caliber bullet, probably a twenty-two. I dug out the one with the most shallow penetration and just gave it to a courier to take to ballistics."
As sensitive as Kate is to boob issues, Castle carefully keeps his eyes away from Lanie's impressive cleavage. "You're looking very fetching tonight, Dr. Parish. Hot date?"
"Unlike some people, I don't hang around at work all night waiting for the next vic to show. I wanted to check out that new club, The Fish Tale."
Castle points to the tank. "Looks like you'll have to settle for second best."
"Lanie, can I touch the body?" Kate inquires.
"Go ahead, I got all the preliminary photos."
Kate turns the victim's head to reveal writing on her face. "Psycho the Rapist" is scrawled across her forehead and "Your out of time," is on her left cheek. Castle can see the words, "how," make," and "feel," on the right cheek.
"What killer signs his name "Psycho the Rapist?" Castle wonders. "Was she raped, Lanie?"
"I'll know more when I get her on my table, but the initial signs aren't there," the ME replies.
"And Mr. Psycho didn't pay much attention in English class, or at least wants us to think that he didn't. It should be you're with an apostrophe 're', not your the way it's written. Something's off here, Beckett."
"Something's always off about a murder, Castle," Kate replies. "Any signs of a struggle, Lanie?"
"Bruises on both arms."
"Check for fibers and hairs. Let's see if our killer left anything behind," Kate instructs. "Come on, Castle. We need to interview the husband. We need to ask him about a lot more than a credit card number."
"If he saw the dinner for two when he came to pick up his wife, he may have some questions rumbling around in his head too – unless he already knows the answers," Castle offers.
"We'll find out what he knows soon enough," Kate declares.
As Kate watches Jason Cosway through the glass in Observation, Castle hands her a fresh mug of coffee. "The grief-stricken husband or the scheming cuckolded spouse?" he inquires.
"Could be either one or neither," Kate replies. "But for now, I'm going to assume a grief-stricken husband. And he's been up most of the night. That would make him physically and emotionally exhausted, and more vulnerable. We'll just have to see what comes out."
