Thanks so much for the kind words! I've missed so many of you.

In my last author's note before my hiatus in 2021, I mentioned being in the middle of a rough depressive episode, and a guest kindly reviewed my last chapter and asked how I was doing. I feel like since then, the world has only gotten rougher to navigate, unfortunately, and I don't anticipate that changing anytime soon.

For myself, I'll say that I have a much better support system in place now and am privileged to be able to take better care of my mental health than I could then.

Please take care of yourselves — and each other.

Their day doesn't get any better once they step inside the house of Danielle Mason's parents. The veggie omelet he'd chosen for their quick breakfast churns unpleasantly in his stomach. Danielle has been dead for a few years now, but this part—the talking to the parents—is not any easier.

Frustrated that the case remains unsolved, Danielle's parents are predictably frosty at first, but warm up under Beckett's frank but understanding demeanor.

"Danielle had a boyfriend at the time. Jimmy Carson? Can you tell us what you remember about him?"

The mother narrows her eyes. "You're looking at him as a suspect?"

"Unfortunately, I can't talk about any suspects in an active police investigation, Mrs. Mason," Kate says, apologetic. "What I can tell you is that another young woman was murdered in the city a few days ago, and she was heavily involved with him. We were hoping you could shed some light on his dynamic with your daughter."

Mr. Mason sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Jimmy and Danielle started dating in high school. He was a sweet kid once, but…"

"But?" Castle presses.

"His mother was killed in a freak accident when he was 18. Jimmy was never the same. He seemed angry all the time," Mrs. Mason adds. "Jimmy and Danielle went to separate colleges, but even when they came back on breaks, they fought all the time. She thought he was cheating on her."

"On Christmas morning one year, we noticed bruises on her arms," Mr. Mason hesitates. "She said she got them in volleyball practice, but the thought did cross our minds that maybe…"

"You think Jimmy had something to do with it," Beckett concludes.

"We never had any proof," Mrs. Mason says. "We mentioned it to the cops after Danielle died, but they just waved us off. Said he had a solid alibi."

"But his alibi was some show he went to in the city with his friends, and there was no real proof, other than the tickets. I just don't understand how the cops were so sure."

Kate purses her lips grimly. Castle knows there's fewer things she hates more than police incompetence.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, again, and I apologize for any more pain that the initial investigation caused you," Kate says sincerely. "I promise I'll be in touch as soon as there's any news about Danielle's case."

"Thank you, Detective." Mr. Mason shakes their hands. "We hope you have a safe trip back to the city."

"What's our next move?" Castle asks as he opens the passenger side door, hovering, waiting for her reply before he slides in. Kate's eyes slam shut as she wishes desperately that he was literally anywhere else right now.

Kate's not being fair, she knows. She's freaking out about last night and this morning and Christ, all of it, and that's not Castle's fault. She's trying her damndest not to let him be collateral damage, but the only way that's going to happen today is if she can find a way to get some space from him for a couple of hours before they make the hours-long drive home.

She sucks in a breath, steeling herself. "I've been through the old case file. Jimmy and his friends did allegedly go to a show in the city the night that Danielle died, but his friends were just visiting. They still live here in town."

Castle's forehead wrinkles in understanding. "You wanna question them before we head home."

"Yes," she confirms.

"Okay, so -"

"Alone," she adds quickly, shifting uncomfortably, her gaze darting to her shoes.

Castle flinches. "And you want me to…what? Wait in the car?" he asks, incredulous.

"I…" she trails off, biting her lip. "I just need a little space right now, Castle. Can you understand that?"

She can see from the hurt and hesitation written all over his face that he very much doesn't understand, but wants to try. Kate has her suspicions that he wasn't as asleep this morning as he pretended to be, but it doesn't matter. Not really. She doesn't blame him for trying to tiptoe around her.

It's clearly warranted, as she is demonstrating right now.

Castle clears his throat, shutting the car door. "Go talk to the friends. Text me when you're done, and I'll let you know where I'm at."

Guilt washes over her. "What are you gonna do?"

Castle nods toward the end of the block. "The Commons is just a few blocks that way. It's a nice little spot to roam around, maybe pick up a few Christmas gifts."

She hesitates. "You're sure?"

Castle throws her a look, and it makes her want to wither away. Like she's not the one who put him in this predicament in the first place. "It's fine, Beckett."

"Thanks, Castle," she says quietly.

He doesn't say anything to that, and doesn't wait for her to slide into her cruiser before he begins walking toward his destination.

As she slides into the driver's seat, she feels about six inches tall.

She puts Castle out of her head while she spends a couple of hours questioning every one of Jimmy's three friends that alibied him out the night that Danielle Mason died. Different friends than the ones who provided him an alibi for Melissa's murder, and she can't help but think it's all so blatantly uncreative for premeditated murder.

Hmm. Sounds like something Castle would say.

Luckily, Kate has the element of surprise and discovers that the friends have lost track of the agreed-upon story after a few years. The details of their night vary wildly among them, and each of them is nervous at best.

The complete opposite of a solid alibi, which the cops would have noticed if they'd dug a little deeper.

It's nearly 2 p.m. when she wraps it all up, which means she and Castle can be home by dinner time if they hit the road soon.

Beckett picks him up outside a bookstore, noting with amusement that he has at least three bags in his hands.

"You leave anything in the store, Castle?" she teases, shifting the car back into gear.

"Get anything out of the friends?" he asks, ignoring her joke. She swallows roughly and looks over at him, but his gaze is carefully trained on the street in front of them.

Well, she can't say she blames him.

She pulls out onto the road. "Their stories were all over the place, and there wasn't a calm one in the bunch."

"You think all of it's enough for a warrant?"

"Hopefully." She glances at the clock on the dash. "Ryan and Espo should be talking to the DA right now."

"Good."

It's horribly silent the rest of the ride home. She tries a few times to spark a conversation, but his few-word answers don't allow for much. He's hurt, and she doesn't like it, but she gets it.

If the situation was reversed…well, it never would be. Because he'd never do the same. If there's one thing Castle hates, it's any semblance of space.

Kate even offers to stop for a quick roadside bite—they haven't eaten anything real since breakfast—but he politely declines, says he'll just eat when he gets back to the loft. Eventually, she gives up and flicks on the radio, if for nothing else than to fill the awkward quiet that's taken up residence inside the car.

She pulls up outside his apartment just before 6, assuming he'd be in a rush to escape this godforsaken ride, but he surprises her. Maybe he can't bear the thought of them leaving things like this, either, she thinks.

She kills the engine and the silence. "I'm sorry about earlier," she says softly. "I didn't mean to ditch you, but…"

"You needed space," he finishes, shrugging. "I get it."

"Do you?"

He sighs, scraping a frustrated hand down his face. "Yeah, Beckett. I get it, but you hurt me. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"No, Castle. Jesus. Of course it isn't."

She stares at her lap for a moment, deep in thought as a siren screams past them down the street. Another hour, another emergency in the heart of a city that feels like it belongs to her.

But one that felt so much less like home without him in it for the last half-year. And fuck, she doesn't know where to put that when there's so much at stake, lives on the line that aren't hers, ones that she has a responsibility to protect.

Like Ryan's.

It was desperately hard without Castle, but some days, it feels just as hard with him, here in this in-between space, where there's so much that exists between them that they've never really spoken aloud without a joke or innuendo attached to it.

It would just be so much easier if the possibility of them was just gone, if he was still with his ex-wife, and she'd found someone over the summer—like maybe a tall hot…doctor or something. A distraction from all of this.

The words clog in her throat. She can't say any of that right now, but she owes him at least something after today.

"Thank you for last night," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "You being there for me like that…it meant a lot."

Castle looks over at her now, his eyes softening a little. "You have those a lot, don't you?"

"Yeah," she admits.

He hesitates. "You ever think about talking to someone about it?"

"I have. Thought about it, I mean." What she really means is that Montgomery brought it up to her recently, and then it took her a month to work up the nerve to make an appointment that she ultimately bailed on.

Maybe someday. She's certainly got plenty of baggage for it. But this?

This feels like maybe she just needs a little bit of time. And perspective.

"Okay." He nods, doesn't push her further.

She smiles a little, her shoulders sagging in relief. "So. Tomorrow?"

He smiles back. "Tomorrow."

Last three chapters will be posted on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday! (P.S. - We're wrapping up this case shortly, I promise).

You can still find me on Twitter at OliviaJRoweee and now on Bluesky, under that same handle.