Shared Obsession Chapter 147

Alexis runs at Castle as he comes through the door and throws her arms around his neck. "Dad! Dad!"

Castle smiles at his daughter. "Hey, I'm all right."

"Where's Detective Beckett?" Alexis asks.

"She's still at the precinct. She wanted to get all the details of what happened into her notes while they were still fresh in her mind. And she wanted to keep tabs on the FBI's war room while they find anything they can to identify our new suspect."

"I came home as soon as Alexis called. The explosion was all over the news," Martha says. "How did Katherine survive?"

"The blessings of old tech, her vintage bathtub protected her. But the apartment's a loss. A lot of her things are too. It's actually lucky she was wet from the shower and hadn't dressed yet. The towels in her bathroom, her robe, everything caught fire. If she was wearing clothes, they might have too. And when I got there, the fire was spreading. Another minute and the smoke might have gotten both of us. Ooh! That could make a good scene for a book. Rook pulls Heat from smothering peril."

Alexis's pale eyes shoot darts. "Dad, that's not funny."

"It certainly isn't, Richard," Martha agrees.

"I know, defense mechanism," Castle admits.

"What if the killer comes here looking for Beckett, or comes after you?" Alexis worries.

Montgomery has round-the-clock protection on Kate. And he just put a protection unit on this place, too. They gave me a lift home. And Kate's unit will probably bring her later, so we'll have double the guard power. But all the same, we should be on alert." Castle sniffs his clothes. "Ooh! I need to clean up. And then I should go back and help, at least until Kate's ready to come home. And I want to bring her some clothes that don't smell like mine do right now. All she's got at the precinct is whatever was in her locker. Also, the killer likes to tell stories. I'm better equipped to understand that than the feebies."

"Try not to run into any more burning buildings, Richard," Martha urges.

"Last place I want to be."


"You're back!" Beckett greets Castle from the war room.

He extends a small overnight bag. "Here. No locker room grunge. Your body wash and shampoo are in there too. I had to scrub like hell to get the stench of the fire off me. I figured the cherries couldn't hurt."

"Thanks. Everything OK at the loft?" Kate asks.

"Uh-huh. I'm impressed by the two bruisers Montgomery assigned. If I were a killer, they'd scare me. And Mother is with Alexis. They should be all right. How are you? I'd think you'd be falling off your feet right now."

"I can't stop thinking about what we missed. I keep hoping something will turn up to give us some idea of the killer's next move."

"He's going off script, making it up as he goes along now," Castle says. "That will make him much more prone to slip-ups."

"Yeah, but how many more people will he kill before he makes the one that will allow us to get the right guy?" Kate wonders.

"Did the boys go home?" Castle asks.

"No, they decided to hang in. They're talking to Conrad's sister and Montgomery is briefing the mayor."

"I'm sure His Honor will be thrilled to learn that Conrad is just another victim."

"Mmm."

"Nothing like the threat of being murdered by a serial killer to stifle tourism."

Kate begins to pace. "Yeah, and it doesn't help that everyone in the city thinks we caught the guy."

Castle waves at the smart board. "So what have the mighty algorithms revealed about Ben Conrad?"

"Not much. Like you said, not a whole lot of information out there about him. He's 34, never married."

"I'll go out on a limb here," Castle inserts, "judging from his attachment to Mr. Bumpkins, he didn't have a girlfriend."

"Uh-huh. And other than the people we've already run down from the dog park, he didn't have any friends."

"The man and his stuffed dog. Nope, he wouldn't have even had his cuddle puppy," Castle guesses. "The killer, not Conrad, was the one who broke into the taxidermy shop and stole it. He probably would have kept it from Conrad out of pure cussedness."

"I'm adding to my collection of choice cuss words for him," Kate says.

"Yeah, me too."

Ryan and Esposito join Kate and Castle in front of the screen. "Well, Conrad's sister confirms that he was a loner," Ryan reports. "He told her that when he lost his job a couple of months ago he spent his days emailing resumes from coffeeshops with free internet."

"And other than Bumpkins, the only joy in his life was the Knicks," Esposito adds.

"With the season they're having, couldn't have been much joy there," Castle asserts.

Ryan nods. "Poor guy."

"Agent Shaw said the profile indicated that the killer hunted Conrad," Castle recalls. "If he wasn't a friend, then he must have met up with him somewhere people strike up a casual conversation."

"We thought of that," Esposito says. "We figured if he camped out with his laptop at a coffee shop, our killer could have sat down next to him and they got to talking."

Kate regards the blowups of the crime scene on the smart board. "His sister said Conrad was a Knicks fan, right? So what's missing from his apartment?"

"Good taste?" Castle guesses.

"An area rug?" Esposito ventures.

"Decent lighting?" Ryan suggests.

Kate rolls her eyes. "A TV! He would have had to walk to a local bar to watch the games."

Ryan nods. "Yeah, if you're a Knicks fan, you've got to share your pain with somebody."

"True," Esposito agrees.

"OK, you two take all the coffee shops within a ten-block radius of Conrad's apartment," Kate orders. "Castle and I will take the bars."


With her hair and skin finally smelling of sweet fruit instead of smoke, Kate hurriedly slips into some of the clothes Castle brought. She meets him in the break room.

"I made us a couple of coffees to go," he announces.

"All right! Let's get moving."


"You know," Castle comments as he and Kate enter yet another bar, "pub crawls are supposed to greet you with a smile and a shot of Jager, not, 'No, we've never seen the guy before, keep moving.'"

As Kate's eyes lock on something, she squeezes Castle's arm. "I have a feeling this place is different."

Castle spies a big banner reading, "Home of New York's very own serial killer, Ben Conrad."

Kate strides up to a sturdy woman operating a beer tap. She flashes her badge and points at the sign. "This is still an ongoing investigation. You're going to have to take that down."

"I was just trying to work an angle," the woman explains. "You should understand what it's like being a woman in a man's world."

Castle can see the weight of exhaustion descending on Kate. "Uh, did Ben Conrad ever talk to you about the recent death of his dog?" he queries the woman.

The barkeep snorts. "That little dropkick? Sure, Conrad loved to flap his gums about him. One time he even cried."

Fighting off her malaise, Kate picks up the thread. "What about the other customers? Did he ever talk to them?"

"He mostly drank alone and watched games. Though," the barwoman recalls, "a couple of weeks ago he did strike it up with some guy."

Kate leans across the battered bar. "Can you describe him?"

The woman shrugs. "Average looking. A bit off like Conrad." She points across the room. "They sat at that high top over there. I figured hey, birds of a feather."

"This other guy, did he ever pay with a credit card?" Kate inquires hopefully.

"Nah! The only time he ever said more than two words to me was when he asked me to call him a cab."

Kate's eyes brighten. "Do you remember when?"

"I remember exactly when. The Knicks were on overtime and I missed the end."

Kate cracks the first smile Castle's seen on her face in days. "Thanks."

A/N If you're reading this, you obviously enjoy stories in electronic form. So good news! My new book, "The Believe Gene: Obsession and Cherry Pie," is now available that way. I'm told that it is, or shortly will be, available pretty much worldwide.