Shared Obsession Chapter 197

At two am in the bed he shares with Kate in the loft, Castle stares at the city lights reflected on the ceiling. While he'd left the remaining cash in the safe at the Hamptons house, he brought the velvet-covered box back to the city. It's now secured a few feet away in the safe in his office. He's pretty sure he'll find the perfect time to make use of what's inside, but it hasn't come yet. The shadow of Bracken still hovers, creating a background of tension that briefly disappears during his lovemaking with Kate, but never stays at bay very long.

What the hell is taking so much time? The prosecution should have had enough evidence to put Bracken away for a hundred lifetimes. His imprisonment can never bring back Johanna Beckett, Aunt Celia, or any of his other victims. But some measure of justice is better than none. Tomorrow, life at the 12th precinct will resume as normal, or as normal as it can be in the bullpen. But he doesn't want normal. He wants the cloud of fear and remembered pain to lift. He wants to ask Kate the question that's been lurking in his mind for so long. But for now, he'll continue as the faithful Sancho Panza to her Quixote. There's really not much else he can do.

Kate regards the body on the awning. "That must have been some fall."

"It wasn't the fall that killed her," Lanie says from her perch on a ladder. "More like multiple gunshots to the torso before doing a Greg Louganis out that window up there."

"Victim's name is Chloe Whitman," Esposito announces. "A couple of pedestrians heard shots and saw the body fall out of the window. But when uniforms got here, the apartment was empty. There's no doorman, so, so far, nobody remembers seeing anyone flee the scene."

"How about street cameras?" Castle asks. "There's an ATM right down the street. Maybe it picked up something."

"Already checked," Ryan says. "The ATM camera's out of commission. No traffic cams in this block either."

"All right. Have the uniforms start knocking on doors," Kate instructs. "Find out what else the neighbors didn't see."

Ryan points at the window of the bookstore on the first floor of the adjoining building. "Hey, Castle. It's you!"

Castle gazes in at the life-sized cardboard figure. "Hmm, yeah. I almost forgot. I have a reading in there tonight. I'm making it up to Black Pawn for one I missed during our last case. I'm supposed to be sharing intimate details of my writing habits."

"They better not be too intimate," Kate warns. "But how about some details about our vic? What do we know?"

"She's got a boyfriend, Evan McMurphy," Esposito says. "He's on his way."

"Come on, Castle. Until he gets here, let's check out the crime scene," Kate says.

CSU is already sweeping the apartment when Kate and Castle cautiously enter. Kate studies blood on the wall. "From the spatter patterns, she was backing away from the door. After the first bullet hits her, she tries to get away but has nowhere to go but out the window. A large caliber round goes right through her and breaks the glass. She dives or falls to the awning below."

Castle glances around the room, spotting Chloe's purse lying next to a packed suitcase. "Looks like she was planning on leaving town."

With gloved hands, Kate goes through the purse. "There's still money in the wallet, so it wasn't a robbery." She signals to a CSU tech. "Can you check these items for fibers and prints? If we're lucky, there was a struggle."

"Beckett?' Ryan calls from the doorway, "Evan, Chloe's boyfriend is here."

Kate waves Evan to a seat in the café corner of the nearby bookstore. "You want some water or a coffee or something?" Castle offers the distraught young man.

Evan shakes his head. "No thanks. I don't understand what happened. Someone just came to Chloe's apartment and shot her?" He stares at Castle. "And why are you in the store window?"

"I have to…never mind," Castle replies. "It isn't important. What can you tell us about Chloe?"

"Usually in cases like this, there's a reason the shooter picks a particular target. And the people closest to the victim can often offer us some insight," Kate explains. "So, how long had you and Ms. Whitman been dating?"

Evan swipes at his eyes. "About six months."

"And was there anyone in her life with violent tendencies? Maybe someone with whom she had a dispute?"

"No, No!" Evan exclaims. "The worst thing I ever saw her do was jaywalk."

"What did she do for a living?" Kate asks.

"She's a teacher – was a teacher. They all loved her."

"Were you expecting her overnight?" Kate inquires.

"No, why?"

"She packed an overnight bag," Kate replies gently.

"That doesn't make sense. She had class tomorrow. She wouldn't just leave without saying anything," Evan insists.

Kate's phone vibrates. "Lanie's got something," she tells Castle. "Can you stay here with Evan, maybe talk a little? I want to see what she has."

"I'll be here," Castle assures her.

Evan glances at a display. "So you really write books?"

A corner of Castle's mouth veers upward. "Opinions vary. But what else can you tell me about Chloe?"

Lanie waves an evidence bag holding a slip of paper as Kate hurries back to the body. "Victim had this in her hand. It was in her fingers so tight I almost missed it."

Kate takes the bag and peers through the plastic. "This is an address in Tribeca."

"The address is registered to a Maya Santori," Ryan announces in the hallway outside a Tribeca apartment. She's clean. No priors. Where's Castle?"

"Evan McMurphy was pretty upset. He said he'd take him home and make sure he was all right before meeting us here. But he thought he recognized the address."

"He did?" Esposito responds. "That's weird." He points at the slightly open door of 417. "That's Santori's place and it looks like someone might be in there."

The three detectives draw their guns as Kate enters. Items are strewn haphazardly around as if the place has been searched. They cautiously proceed to the bedroom where a body lies on the bed with a gun next to it. Kate points at the pistol. Either the killer left the murder weapon or the vic was trying unsuccessfully to defend herself."

Castle charges into the room. "Hey, guys! I got here as fast as I could. Beckett, remember I told you the address looked familiar? I had my phone on mute while I was talking to Evan. But after I left him, I checked. There was a voicemail from your victim. She said she was in trouble and couldn't go to the police. She wanted me to come over. Damn! I should have kept my phone on."

"So you know the victim, Castle?" Esposito questions.

"She's an artist, a sculptor. A while back I commissioned a couple of pieces from her. Beckett, they're the ones near the windows in the great room."

"Oh, those," Kate responds unenthusiastically.

"I haven't seen her since then," Castle continues. "But she knew I had, some, um connections. That must be why she called me."

Beckett puts down her desk phone. "That was Perlmutter. He recovered the bullet from Maya Santori's body. It's a 45."

"The gun next to her on the bed was a thirty-eight," Castle recalls. "She must have been trying to defend herself, but the killer was quicker. But why would anyone want to kill an artist? I mean, her work isn't everyone's cup of tea – you included, I'm gathering. But if a sculpture upsets someone, why not just write a bad review? These days, anyone can post their opinion on social media."

"I've noticed," Kate says.

"But anyway, the killer can't just be a disgruntled art lover."

"Any idea who it could be?" Kate queries.

"As I said, I didn't know her that well. Sorry, I haven't a clue. And I have to go prepare for that damn book reading. Are you going to come?"

"Depends if I get a break in the case or not. But I'll try."

"OK then. See you later."