Shared Obsession Chapter 50

Intent on Jeff Starcrest's papers spread out on the table between him and Kate, Castle almost doesn't hear Alexis's key in the door. The teen's eyes sweep over her father as if to assure herself he's still more or less in one piece. Scowling, she catches his gaze before glaring at Kate. "You should leave. I can make sure Dad's all right, as all right as possible after you got him shot."

"Alexis, I understand that you're upset, and you have a right to be," Castle responds. "The thought of losing someone you love is terrifying. But I chose to be with Beckett. And under circumstances that were far from under our control, we both did the best we could. We both did," he repeats. "Now you can be mad at me as long as you like, but Detective Beckett and I are working together on something that means a great deal to me. She is a guest in our home, and at the very least, she deserves a little civility."

"Fine," Alexis agrees grudgingly. "Then you will both excuse me. I need to go upstairs and get started on my homework."

"There's Cookie Dough Chunks in the freezer," Castle informs his daughter as she heads toward the stairs. She hesitates for a moment before continuing toward the mezzanine. Castle sighs. "Maybe later."

Kate lays her hand on Castle's arm. "Sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he insists. "Alexis is probably still more scared than she is angry. But that doesn't give her an excuse to be rude. If I had a nickel for every time I had to smile politely at some showbiz asshole, so Mother wouldn't get a black mark with bigger asshole casting directors, I'd have … never mind." He picks up a copy of some of Jeff Starcrest's handwritten notes. "These are almost as hard to read as some of your mother's coded messages – and they're supposed to be in English. But Manna is in here a lot. It's mostly about tax stuff, but look here." Castle points to what appears to be a hastily scribbled paragraph. "Seacrest spotted Fred Quistel, the CEO of Manna, with Bracken at the back table of a bar."

Kate leans in to better view the document. "I thought Manna caters more to the denominations that regard imbibing as sinful."

"Officially they do," Castle confirms. "So, at a bar, Quistel wouldn't expect to be seen by his customers. And being seen with a Bible salesman might even give Bracken a sheen of respectability. From Jeff's notes, neither of them was there long enough to down more than one drink. And he thought he saw Bracken slip Quistel an envelope."

"But if Quistel was bribing Bracken, the envelope would have gone in the other direction," Kate realizes.

"Right. Jeff thought that was strange. But if Bracken was paying Quistel to send out instructions to his murderous mercenaries, it would make perfect sense. Beckett, we need to find out how Jackson obtained that Bible and if any others went by the same route."

"How, Castle? If he bought it, it would have been years ago. Even if there was a record, it would have been long gone. And a lot of Bibles are given away for free."

"But either way, Quistel would have had to make sure that particular Bible reached the person for whom it was intended. If I were writing the story, he could solve the problem with a door-to-door giveaway campaign, with Bibles designated for particular sinners. But instead of saving them from their sins, those Bibles would propagate new ones."

"Castle, that's almost demonic."

"Well that's the point, isn't it Beckett? That's what evil does, take something that should be for the good and twist it. I'm going to check for articles on free Bible distributions during the time before Celia was killed. That's the sort of thing that religious organizations love to celebrate. There is bound to be a blurb somewhere."

Kate's cell phone buzzes. She checks the screen. "It's Montgomery. Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. I appreciate that. Uh, yes. I can do that. I'll be right there."

Castle quirks an eyebrow. "What's going on?"

"The preliminary report completely cleared me."

"Of course it did! Putting a bullet in Baylor saved at least three lives, maybe more But why does he want you in right now? It's almost end of shift."

"Montgomery says I can pick up my badge and gun. But he also wants me on another murder. He said it's pretty brutal."

"I'd go with you but…," Castle waves up toward the mezzanine."

"I know. The last thing you need right now is to walk out on Alexis for a case with me. And you don't need me to help you search for old Bible giveaways. I should go now."

"Call me later?" Castle asks as Kate strides for the door.

"Sure."

"With a flushed face and even redder eyes, Ryan stares at a body stuffed in a safe. "I wonder how many bones they had to break to get her in there?"

"Won't know until I get her out of there," Lanie responds as Ryan sneezes. "And stop contaminating my crime scene. You're spraying your DNA all over the place."

Ryan bats at the air. "Sorry, it must be the feathers. They must have come from a torn-up pillow. Maybe the victim tried to use one to defend herself."

Lanie regards the broken body. "From the looks of her, it would have taken a lot more than a pillow. Beckett's coming, isn't she? You might as well get out of here before you do any more damage."

In the hallway, while Esposito's taking a statement from a weeping young woman, Kate meets up with Ryan. He points toward the apartment door. "No sign of forced entry, the same as three other cases."

"Looks like a home invasion crew went for a four-peat," Kate surmises.

"They're stepping up their game, becoming more violent," Ryan reports grimly.

Joining Beckett and Ryan, Esposito indicates the woman now leaning against a wall with tears still wet on her face. "That's Joanne Delgado, daughter of Susan Delgado, the victim. She makes her usual evening call to her mom, only Mom doesn't pick up. So she calls the doorman. He comes up to find the door ajar and…."

"And," Kate prompts.

Esposito points inside the apartment. "It's bad, Beckett."

Lanie turns from the body toward Kate. "Blood spatter indicates a single GSW, close range."

"You can still smell the cordite," Beckett notes. "It couldn't have been too long ago. Any of the neighbors hear the gunshot?"

"Nada," Esposito replies with disgust. "You know New York. See no evil, hear no evil."

Kate scans the room. "This building is in great shape, but it's old. Back when it was built, they used real plaster on the walls. Not as much sound would get through. Or maybe the shooter used a pillow as a silencer. That would account for these." She waves at the feathers still swirling in the air. "Any shell casings?"

"None," Esposito replies.

"The killer probably used a revolver," Kate figures.

"And a bolt cutter," Lanie adds, pointing to a missing ring finger.

Kate's teeth find her lower lip. "The killer must have wanted her wedding ring and punished her when she wouldn't give it up. Husband?"

"According to the daughter, he passed on four years ago," Esposito reports.

"But she couldn't let go of him. She must have loved him very much," Kate murmurs.

Lanie gazes at her friend. "Girl," she whispers in Kate's ear, "since when do you get emotional at crime scenes? What's going on?"

"I'm not sure."