Confession Chapter 3

More exhausted by her trip back to New York than she's willing to admit, Kate's eyes sweep over the walls of the sublet. As Castle promised, her large painting of a woman dressed in purple is there, but leaning against a wall, rather than hung.

The other furnishings seem chosen for damage resistance rather than any intrinsic interest or beauty. She supposes that makes sense for a sublet. Having to replace furniture after each occupancy would quickly wipe out any profits and then some.

The kitchen is more enticing, with a complete collection of pots, pans, and gadgets, allowing the occupants to skip the expense of restaurants or ordering in. It probably can accommodate any of the fad diets to which New Yorkers seem to constantly fall prey. She'd love to use it to turn out some of her Nona's specialties – if she can ever stay on her feet that long. Right now the practical couch looks incredibly inviting. She decides to give in and sit before she embarrasses herself by sagging to the floor. "I guess this place will be OK, maybe for a week or two," she tells her father and Castle.

"Good to know," Castle says. "And your home health aide should be popping in soon to make sure you're settled."

"Castle, I don't need a home health aide," Kate protests.

"Hey, it's covered by your insurance – apparently a lot cheaper than keeping you in a hospital or rehab facility. Ryan checked it out," Castle adds. "He's really good at that kind of thing. So don't make all his hard work for nothing."

"Or, your Aunt Theresa could come to stay with you," Jim Beckett proposes. "She's already cooking up a batch of her signature soup."

Kate flinches. The last time she had any of Aunt Theresa's soup, it tasted like someone forgot to pluck the chicken. She raises a hand in surrender. "All right, no reason for Ryan's efforts to go to waste. I'll take the aide."

"And there is soup coming," Castle says, "from the soup nazi."

Kate throws him a skeptical look. "He doesn't deliver."

"No," Castle acknowledges, "but Alexis does. And she's been wanting to see you. She thinks you two might have stories to swap, although I can't imagine about what."

"I have no idea," Kate says, "but if I'm about to have all that company, maybe you two should get out of here for a while. Go to Remy's. I don't think either one of you has had anything but hospital cafeteria food for days."

"Not exactly true," Castle confides. "There was that Chicago pizza place a couple of blocks from the hospital. Nothing like New York slices, of course. You can't even flip in the tip and fold them. But they weren't bad. Still, I did miss Remy's cheeseburgers."

"And I could use some chili," Jim says. "But I'm not leaving you a…."

A loud rap sounds on the door. "A professional knock if ever I've heard one," Castle asserts, going over to let the aide in. "Well, Jim, I suppose we can take our leave. And Kate, when you're ready for, uh, you know…."

"I know, Castle. Now go get your cheeseburger!" Kate orders.

Castle throws her a salute. "Yes, Ma'am!"

"What do you know about Ms. Martinez, Castle?" Jim Beckett inquires as Castle retrieves his car from the building's underground parking.

"Beckett's aide?"

Jim nods.

"I know that Ryan and Esposito ran a deep background check on her. No rap sheet. No sealed juvie report. Born in New York to Puerto Rican parents. She attended public school, then went on to be trained and get her license as a practical nurse. She worked in a senior facility until she was blackballed for reporting elder abuse. She's been a home aide ever since. There are more details. I can forward you a copy of the report if you like."

"I'd appreciate it. Did Ryan and Esposito dig up anything about who might send a shooter after Katie?" Jim asks.

"Nothing. And Montgomery is leaning on them about closing as many other cases as they can."

"How about you, Castle? You don't have to take orders from Montgomery."

"No I don't," Castle agrees. "But after Coonan crawled out from under his rock, Kate and I went through everything she has from her mother. She didn't have anything that could identify Coonan's boss."

"There are a lot of Johanna's things that Katie doesn't have," Jim Beckett confesses. "After she was gone I packed them away. I just couldn't stand to…. But if whoever ordered Johanna's death sent that shooter after Kate, well, you should go through them now."

"Where are they?"

"A storage unit up in the Bronx. Katie doesn't know it exists. I can take you there after she turns in for the night. I can get access 24/7."

Castle pulls into the closest street parking he can get to Remy's. "Then we have a date."

As Montgomery slides behind the wheel of his personal vehicle, he sees piercing blue eyes reflected in his rearview mirror. "We have a problem, Roy."

"Damn straight we have a problem if you tried to kill Kate Beckett, Lockwood," Montgomery retorts. "Your boss and I had a deal. You were supposed to stay away from her."

"Only if she wasn't poking her nose into her mother's death," Lockwood returns. "And she's been doing it again."

"Not into anything important. She's just sifting through the same old useless notes and files. She's not even close to making the connection. You should have left her alone. But now she has a new lead, her own shooting. Still, from what I hear from Chicago, the cops there don't have much of anything to go on either. Leave her alone now and the whole thing will die down."

"It better, Roy," Lockwood warns. "Because if it doesn't, it won't just be sweet Kate in my sights."

"You better not be threatening me or my family," Montgomery warns. "I still have the evidence to take your boss down."

"You'll go down with him," Lockwood replies mildly.

"To put that scumbag where he belongs, it might be worth it," Montgomery declares.

Lockwood smirks. "You haven't done it for 19 years, Roy. I doubt you have the balls to do it now."

"Castle, what did you mean about Katie being ready?" Jim asks as they make the drive to the Bronx.

"Jim, with due respect, as much as I appreciate this male bonding thing we have going, that's between Kate and me."

Jim sinks into his seat. "You know, there was a time when Katie would tell me everything. The words just rose to the top, like bubbles in Champagne."

"Let me guess," Castle says, "it was before she started dating."

"Something like that," Jim admits. "You have a daughter. Does she still tell you whatever is on her mind?"

"For a while, I thought she did. I was supposed to be the cool dad. I mean, she could even send me for emergency supplies from the, um, feminine hygiene aisle. But then I found out she was actually talking to Beckett about some stuff she'd never tell me. I guess no matter how cool we guys are, there are some things girls only share with each other."

"But what you and Beckett were talking about isn't one of them?" Jim questions.

"I sure as hell hope not."