Disclaimer: Castle isn't mine, obviously. Although I might've borrowed the original lines from time to time.

Hamptons Heat

Chapter One

Kate Beckett tried to smile pleasantly as she listened to her best friend, Maddie, raving about her new boyfriend for the umpteenth time that night. God, she loved Maddie—she truly did—but if she had to hear one more word about how wonderful Tim was, she was going to snap.

She got it, alright. Tim was apparently the man of Maddie's dreams—a CEO of a tech start-up company who apparently loved to spend his free time helping the less fortunate at the local homeless shelter. From the way Maddie had been swooning over him for the past hour, he might as well have had a cape and a secret identity.

"Tim's family owns a huge beach house in the Hamptons, and they're having a party next weekend. You should come,"Maddie said.

When she got no response, she nudged Kate's shoulder.

"Becks?"

Kate blinked, trying to recall the last thing Maddie had said—and failed.

"Sorry, you were saying?"

Maddie rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"This is exactly why I want you to come. You need a break, Kate. Seriously. When was the last time you took a vacation?"

Kate opened her mouth to respond, but Maddie raised a hand to cut her off.

"—And I mean a real vacation,Kate. Not spending the weekend holed up in your apartment, binge-reading the latest book by that mystery author you're obsessed with."

Kate's cheeks flushed pink.

Okay, maybe 'obsessed' was a bit much, but Maddie wasn't entirely wrong. Kate had spent her last day off curled up at home, devouring Richard Castle's books. He hadn't dropped anything new in a couple of years, but that didn't stop her from revisiting his older ones. Still, did Maddie really have to put it like that—out loud, for the whole bar to hear?

"Maddie!"she hissed, nudging her friend's calf with her heel.

Maddie just shrugged, unbothered.

"What? It's the truth, Kate. It wouldn't kill you to hang out with real people instead of fictional characters."

Kate hadn't expected the words to sting—but they did. Maddie didn't know how much those fictional characters had meant to her, how much they had saved her. She didn't know that Richard Castle's books had kept her afloat when she was drowning in grief after losing her mother.

But how could she? Maddie hadn't been there for that part of her life—and it wasn't exactly her fault, either. It wasn't her fault that Kate Beckett had disappeared from the face of the earth after her mother's death, throwing herself into one singular purpose: finding her mother's killer.

It had taken a recent case to bring the two high school best friends back together. And even after reconnecting, they still hadn't talked much about Kate's mom. Nothing beyond that first week, when Maddie offered her condolences and Kate accepted them with a smile—before quickly, and not-so-subtly, changing the subject.

Maddie's expression softened as she caught the shift in Kate's demeanor.

"I'm just saying… Come with me to the Hamptons next weekend. Have some fun. Meet some people. For old times' sake?"

Kate offered a small smile but shook her head.

"Sorry, Mads. I'm on call next weekend."

Maddie sighed, but let it go.

"Fine. But if you change your mind…"

"I'll give you a call."

She wouldn't, somehow both of them knew. But neither of them said it out loud.

Kate Beckett's hands were shaking uncontrollably as she knelt in the tiny bathroom stall, trying to catch her breath. A loud gasp escaped her mouth, and for the first time that day, she let it all out. Tears streamed down her face as she continued to clutch her mother's ring to her chest, desperately needing to hold on to something—something to keep her anchored.

Today had started like any ordinary day. She went for a quick run at five in the morning, took a shower, and then headed to her favorite café to pick up her usual coffee order and a bear claw. She arrived at the precinct precisely at eight a.m., with enough time to catch up on her paperwork from the previous day. She spent the day buried in paperwork, and as tedious as it was, sometimes it was nice to have a little break—especially since they had just closed a major case the night before.

But then, it happened.

All hell broke loose when the call came in at ten in the morning.

She had a bad feeling about the case even before she arrived at the crime scene.

It was strange—she couldn't describe it—but when she first received the call and the brief info about the victim, her heart started pounding.

"Forty-one-year-old female," Esposito briefed her the moment she crossed the yellow tape. "COD is blunt force trauma to the back of the head. No camera," he pointed toward the buildings to emphasize his point before looking back at Beckett. "No witnesses," he added grimly.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled with unease, and a heavy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as she took in the crime scene.

A deserted alleyway.

No camera.

No witnesses.

"Her belongings, including her purse, are still there. That's why we're able to identify her so quickly."

Ryan approached with a notepad and pen in hand. "Lanie is still working on the TOD, but based on lividity, she was probably killed between seven and eleven last night."

Kate forced a small smile. "Thanks, guys. And take a look at the traffic cam footage from the area. If anything—even the smallest thing—looks suspicious, I want to know."

"Got it, boss," Ryan nodded before he and Esposito left to search the area.

"Hi, Lanie. What have we got?" Beckett snapped on her gloves and crouched down to examine the victim.

Lanie greeted her with a quick smile before turning the victim's head to the side to reveal the obvious wound at the back of her head. "I have to take her to the morgue to be sure, but based on what it looks like, the COD is blunt force trauma to the back of the head. No defense wounds that I can see, so I think the killer caught her by surprise. And one of the uni found this dumped in the dumpster just across the street."

Lanie handed Beckett an evidence bag containing a bloodied crowbar.

Beckett took it, quickly noticing no-small-amount of blood smeared all over the tool. Even after over five years as a homicide detective, she still sometimes couldn't believe how cruel a person could be.

"Beckett, one more thing. I found this hidden inside the victim's pocket."

Lanie handed her another evidence bag, this one containing an employee card. When Beckett saw the block letters, her heart stopped.

Dunlap Sutton Civil Rights Attorneys.

The bullet scar on her chest throbbed, but Kate Beckett did her best to stay calm as she listened to Ryan and Esposito discuss the victim's background. She had allowed herself to break down when she learned the victim was a civil rights attorney, but now she needed to put on a brave face. She couldn't let the similarity between the victim's occupation and her mother's affect her.

As usual, the three detectives stood in front of the murder board, working to piece together the timeline of the murder.

Their victim was Barbara Whitaker, a 41-year-old single mother living in a modest apartment in downtown Brooklyn. She worked as a partner at Dunlap Sutton Civil Rights Attorneys.

"According to her co-worker," Esposito informed, "Barbara was last seen leaving work at six p.m. None of her co-workers knew what she was doing in that alleyway that night."

"Her family didn't know either," Ryan added. "She got divorced a few years ago and had two kids from her first marriage—a ten-year-old boy and a sixteen-year-old girl. The kids stayed with their dad last night, and when her daughter couldn't reach her mom, she panicked. The father called the police this morning to file a missing person report after failing to find Barbara overnight. Apparently, it wasn't like her to miss her nightly calls to the kids."

"We've contacted her ex-husband and her parents—they'll be here soon," Esposito finished.

Kate murmured a quick thanks, just as the elevator dinged. When she saw the victim's family step off, her heart sank.

The father seemed genuinely distraught, his hands resting on his children's shoulders. The boy's head hung low, his hand clutching his father's shirt like a lifeline. The teenage girl, however, wore a stoic expression, almost as if she were frozen in time—as if the reality of her mother's death hadn't fully sunk in yet.

Kate took a slow breath, knowing exactly what the girl was going through.

It had taken Kate an entire day to acknowledge her own mother's death. Even now, she could still remember the detectives delivering the news at her doorstep. Everything had moved in slow motion, like a scene from a movie. It had taken her another week to accept that her mother wasn't just gone—she'd been murdered. She remembered the denial, the helplessness, the pain—and eventually, the rage.

Aside from the victim's occupation and the setting of the crime, it bore no resemblance to her mother's. But something about the case had gotten under her skin. She didn't know why—not really. Maybe it was the teenage girl. Maybe it was seeing her younger self reflected in the victim's daughter. Or maybe it was the alleyway, which looked so much like the one where they'd found her mother, stabbed to death.

Whatever it was, she couldn't let her personal feelings cloud her judgment.

Kate hastily turned her face away from the grieving family. "Take them to the conference room. I'll be right behind you."

Esposito and Ryan exchanged a glance but nodded in unison before leading the victim's family toward the conference room.

Beckett let out a long breath, grateful that neither of them commented on her sudden mood shift. She then headed straight for the women's restroom, splashing cold water on her face and willing herself to regain control.

Detective Beckett stretched her arms overhead, finally noticing the silence. As she expected, when she glanced around, the bullpen was nearly empty. She leaned over to check the clock and realized it was already close to midnight. She needed to go home—or maybe just sleep on the breakroom couch.

She was debating whether it was worth it to drive back home when Esposito came into view, his expression carrying a hint of concern.

Ryan had left a couple of hours ago, looking slightly guilty as he'd said his goodbyes. He'd mentioned having a date with his wife, Jenny. Beckett had reassured him a few times that it was okay before he finally headed out. But Esposito had insisted on staying behind, promising to go over the victim's financials one more time.

"Still nothing?"

"Nope," Espo heavily sighed."I just don't get it, Beckett. What's a lawyer from a top firm like her doing in a place like that?"

"I can't believe we're getting nowhere," Beckett muttered, standing up and staring at the murder board as if it could magically answer their questions. "There has to be something we're missing."

At this point, they were both exhausted and frustrated after hitting dead ends at every turn.

So when Esposito blurted, "Maybe this is just a random attack," Beckett snapped.

"Why? Because it's convenient for you?"

Her voice was sharp, and as soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

For a moment, Esposito looked like he was about to snap back, but then he calmed himself, his jaw tightening.

Beckett's stomach twisted with guilt.

"Sorry," she muttered, not quite meeting his eyes.

"Look," Esposito started, "Ryan and I have been keeping our mouths shut all day, but we aren't stupid, Beckett. We know this case is getting to you."

They both knew he didn't need to say the rest: We know it reminds you of your own mother's murder.

"But so far, we're getting nowhere. So how about we all go home, get some sleep, and come back tomorrow with fresh eyes?"

Beckett bit her lip. Espo had a point. Sometimes with cases like this, the only thing they could do was wait for a new lead to appear. And she was exhausted—maybe going home wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"Alright," Kate agreed, grabbing her jacket from the back of her chair and slipping it on. "But only because we still need to wait for the full autopsy report anyway."

"Come on, I'll even drive you home."

Kate smiled.

"Thanks, Espo."

It was day five of their investigation, and they still hadn't made any progress. The autopsy report showed no DNA traces on either the victim or the murder weapon, except for those belonging to the victim's family and one of her colleagues. Unfortunately, all of them had airtight alibis for the time of the murder.

The team was growing more and more desperate with each passing day. Captain Victoria Gates had been relentless, pushing them harder than ever, but despite their best efforts—investigating every angle—they still came up empty-handed.

They eventually uncovered the reason the victim had been in that neighborhood the night she died. Turns out, she'd visited a new, up-and-coming Italian restaurant just down the street. It was the report on her stomach contents that had led them to the lead.

After checking several restaurants in the area, they finally identified the one the victim had visited. But when they interviewed the staff, they didn't find anything unusual. According to the staff, the victim had come alone, and she'd seemed perfectly fine. The bill confirmed she'd left around eight, right in line with their timeline.

"Beckett?" Captain Gates peeked her head over her office door, beckoning Beckett with a quick motion of her hand.

Beckett quickly followed the Captain's order, exchanging nervous glances with Esposito and Ryan as she passed.

"Sir?"

Gates glanced at her, then nodded toward the office door. "Close the door, please."

Beckett furrowed her brows, confusion flashing across her face, but she did as she was told. She stepped inside and shut the door behind her.

"Sit."

Beckett complied, sitting down in the chair opposite the Captain. She folded her hands in front of her, trying her best not to fidget as she waited for Gates to speak.

Gates removed her glasses, turning her full attention to Beckett. Her face was strangely kind, a softness Beckett wasn't used to seeing. It only made her more nervous.

"How are you, Kate?"

The Captain's voice was calm, almost gentle—nothing like the usual steely authority Kate was accustomed to. There was a level of concern in her voice that almost sounded like she genuinely cared for her wellbeing.

Beckett was taken aback by the sudden change in behavior. Victoria Gates was known as Iron Gates—a title earned from her no-nonsense attitude. This? This was not it.

"Uhm..." Beckett cleared her throat, trying to steady herself. "I'm fine, Sir. What is this about?"

Gates leaned forward, placing both hands on her desk. "I've noticed you haven't taken a break lately.

"We're in the middle of a case, Sir," Beckett protested, her voice laced with frustration. "I don't need a break right now. I need a new lead."

Gates didn't flinch, but her voice dropped, taking on a more serious tone. "This case is going nowhere, Detective."

Kate's anger built. She stood up, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

"What are you saying, Sir? That we should just give up?" Her voice rose with every word, and her emotions were dangerously close to boiling over. "We just give up when there's a little boy and a..." She swallowed hard, her voice cracking. "...when there's a girl who just lost their mother?"

"Detective—" Gates began, but Kate didn't let her finish.

"Her family needs answers!" Kate spat, her frustration spilling out, raw and unfiltered. Deep down, she knew she was crossing a line, but it didn't stop her. "Maybe you don't care about them as much as I do, but I—"

"Enough!" Gates' voice rang out, sharp and commanding. It was loud enough to echo through the bullpen, and Kate could feel the weight of it hanging in the air.

The sound of their argument had drawn the attention of the rest of the bullpen, and Kate knew they were all watching. But she was too consumed by her anger to care.

Captain Gates' gaze was steady and sharp, yet there was an unspoken concern in her eyes. She studied Beckett carefully, noting the exhaustion in her posture and the way her hands were practically shaking—clearly too emotionally invested in the case.

Maybe she should've pulled her sooner. Beckett was unraveling fast, and Gates was afraid it would lead her straight to burnout.

"I've been watching you, Kate. You're running on fumes, and it's affecting your work."

Beckett pressed her lips together, trying to keep her frustration in check, but the exhaustion weighed heavily on her shoulders. She didn't want to admit it. She didn't want to give in to the fact that maybe, Gates was right.

"I'm fine. I don't need a break."

Kate's voice was firm, unyielding, but there was an undercurrent of something softer. A tinge of something that Beckett couldn't quite place—vulnerability? Maybe. She didn't know if she was ready to admit it to herself.

Even through her anger, Beckett vaguely realized that her Captain was looking after her. Right now, she reminded Beckett of her previous Captain. It was that moment she realized how misleading the nickname Iron Gates was. Her Captain's heart wasn't made of steel—unlike the popular belief. The older woman truly cared about her people, the precinct, and, despite the harsh exterior, Beckett knew Gates would do anything to protect them, even from themselves.

But still, Beckett needed to see this case through.

She didn't need a break.

"You don't get to decide that, Kate. I do." She let the words hang in the air between them, an undeniable truth. Then, with a slight pause, she delivered the blow. "You're taking two weeks of mandatory leave. Effective immediately."

Beckett's heart dropped, her breath catching for a second. She opened her mouth to protest, but the words got stuck in her throat. Her mind raced—two weeks? She couldn't afford to step away from the case.

"Two weeks? I—"

Cutting her off with the finality of someone who'd made up their mind, Gates' tone remained calm, but it left no room for arguments.

"I'm not asking. This is for your own good, Kate. You need to rest. If you're not going to take care of yourself, I'll make sure you do."

Beckett's jaw clenched, frustration boiling in her chest. She hated this feeling—this helplessness that came from being told what she could and couldn't do. But the reality was undeniable. She couldn't fight this anymore. The case. Her mother's death. The constant pressure. It was all too much.

"I can't just walk away from this case. Not now."

There was a small sigh, one that Beckett couldn't quite place—sympathy, maybe, or perhaps something deeper. She wasn't a woman who gave sympathy lightly, and yet, Kate could see it in the way her shoulders slumped just a little.

"You think I don't know that? You've been pushing yourself too hard. I've seen it. The tension in your every movement. The late nights. The way you've been staring at that damn murder board like it holds the answers you're looking for." Her voice softened just a touch. "You're not helping anyone like this, least of all yourself. You need time to reset."

Her head dropped, and for a moment, she felt the weight of the world pressing down on her chest. She knew she couldn't argue anymore, but admitting how exhausted she truly was felt like giving up. She hated it.

"Two weeks?" Her voice barely above a whisper, resigned, but she couldn't muster the energy to fight it anymore.

The captain nodded slowly, a slight glint of understanding in her eyes. She had been there before, felt the weight of pushing herself too far. She wasn't about to let Beckett make the same mistakes.

"Two weeks. And don't even think about coming back before then. Take this time to clear your head, get some perspective."

"What about the case?" Beckett asked, her voice carrying the strain of her frustration.

"Esposito and Ryan will take the lead."

At least she wasn't handing it off to another team, or worse, letting the case go cold. The thought of the case slipping away was painful, but Kate could still feel some relief.

"But Detective, I'm trying to be realistic here. If we couldn't find any more leads—"

Kate's heart sank at the unspoken truth. This wasn't the first case she couldn't solve, and though it didn't happen often, the weight of it never eased. In reality, there were only two other cases she hadn't solved throughout her entire career—her mother's murder included. And that never got easier.

Each unsolved case added more weight to her shoulders, more doubt, more frustration.

But as painful as it was to admit, Gates was right. Without any fresh leads, this case was starting to grow cold.

She stood there for a moment, her mind swirling with everything she couldn't fix, the weight settling into her chest. It felt like failure, and as much as she tried to push it aside, it lingered. She wasn't ready to walk away from this, but she also knew she couldn't keep going on like this.

"Just two weeks, and I'll be back."

With a slight, knowing smile, Captain Gates gave her a look of quiet reassurance.

"I know. But for now, go home, Detective. You're dismissed."

A/N

Hi again! I didn't expect to return so soon, especially with a longer story, but this idea has been on my mind for a couple of months now. One day, I just sat down in front of my laptop and started writing. I can't promise to update regularly since my work hours are all over the place, but I'll do my best.

I don't want to reveal too much, but the story takes place around 5x4, 'Murder He Wrote'. Everything else will be explained in the upcoming chapters. As usual, reviews are greatly appreciated! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter. Thank you!