Disclaimer: I do not own Castle. No money will be sought for this work.

Word Count: 1,320

Castle knelt before her. Beckett stared back, mouth agape. When she finally managed to conjure words, her phone rang.

"Uh -"

"Answer it; it could be important."

Castle dropped his hands into his lap, still holding the ring, looking down while she answered.

Beckett watched Castle from the corner of her eye as she spoke.

"Beckett. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Ok, I'll be there. Thanks."

Beckett opened her mouth then closed it after hanging up. Finally, she recovered the use of human speech.
"Murder down-town. Castle - "

"It's ok, go."

She inhaled sharply.

"I don't want to just leave you here in the middle of a proposal."

"You have a lot to think about and I don't want to rush you; plus I know how involved you get in your cases, so, you don't have to give me your answer now. I'll wait until the case is over."

"Castle, that could take - "

"It's you. It'll be a few days; a week tops - and that should give you more than enough time. I hope you understand I'm gonna sit this one out, ok? But you come see me when you're done."

He stood up and kissed her on the forehead.

"I'll keep this safe for you," he whispered, stowing the ring away in his pocket.

She watched him walk away, trying to will her legs to move, trying to force her whole body to stand up; she had a fresh crime scene to go to. Murder didn't stop just because she'd gotten a job offer in DC and her boyfriend had proposed. She was still a homicide Detective, and she had a job to do.

Castle jumped.
"Oh, Jeez, mother, you scared me. Were you waiting behind the door that whole time?" He entered the loft and closed it behind him.

"Well? What did she say?"

"She didn't say anything."

"Well that's not a good sign."

"Because she got a body-drop."

"So, you didn't have a chance to ask?"

"No, I asked. She didn't have a chance to reply. I told her to give me her answer after the case is over."

"Darling, that could take weeks - by which time she could be halfway to Washington."

"I'll follow her to Washington if she'll have me. There's a lot we need to talk out, whether she says yes or no, but we can't do that while she's in the middle of a murder investigation."

The address was for St. John's Church. Karpowski greeted Beckett at the entrance.

"Hey, Karpowski, how's it hangin'?"

"Uh, an unfortunate choice of words."

Beckett arched an eyebrow.

"You'll see," she said, raising an eyebrow in return.

She turned back towards the church.

"Where's Castle? Aren't you two usually attached at the hip?"

"Uh, he asked if he could sit this one out. He's so busy; just finished his book, he's got cover art to pick out, edits to go over..."

Karpowski nodded, accepting the information she was being given even if she didn't quite believe that was the whole story.

"Fair enough," she said, entering the building with Beckett in tow.

It was a nice little church - or Beckett supposed it normally was, assuming there wasn't usually a woman hanging from the crucifix, a huge, damp, red stain on her back.

"Whoa," Beckett said.

"I know, right?" Karpowski said. "I've heard of Catholic guilt but this is taking it a little too far."

"It wasn't suicide," said Lanie from across the room, standing next to the crucifix. "Judging by the amount of blood, she was alive when her hands were tied to either side and her legs fastened with rope with her body facing the cross before being stabbed in the back with some sort of sharp, pointy object. I'll have to get her back to the lab before I can tell you more."

"Uh, yeah, I know; this isn't my first murder. I was making a joke. Jeez, I miss Perlmutter. That guy gets me."

"And I miss Castle; his jokes are actually funny," Lanie said.

Karpowski glared at her.

"Ok, ladies; this is a crime scene - and a place of worship. Try to have a bit of decorum, please."

"Speaking of Castle, where is he?"

"Oh, well, he's getting on in his years. Two cases in one day were a little too much for him."

"Mm-hhmm," Lanie said, regarding Beckett with a reproachful 'We'll talk about this later' gaze.

"So, who's our vic?" Beckett asked, walking around to look up at her partially obstructed face.

"Marjorie Chettle, sixty-one," said Karpowski.

"Marjorie Chettle, the socialite?"

"And fashion legend," Lanie said. "I own three of her dresses from last year's fall collection."

"Never heard of her," said Karpowski.

"Now, why doesn't that surprise me?" Lanie said, eyeing the other woman's drab grey attire.

"What was Marjorie Chettle doing in a Catholic church in down-town New York?" Beckett wondered out loud.

"This is her husband's church, they were married here by his friend Father Patrick Bryan," Karpowkski said, indicating a distraught looking priest. "Just took his statement. She asked him to meet her here; said it was important but she didn't say what it was. He found her like this at around 2:30 pm. That's when he made the call to 911."

"Does the husband know?" Kate asked.

"Yeah, Father Brian called him right away," Karpowski replied. "He was here when I arrived. He was pretty upset."

"Yeah, well, I can't blame him," Lanie said, "unless he's the killer and just pretending to be upset."

Karpowski rolled her eyes.
"He was taken back to the precinct for questioning,"

"Which number husband is he?"

"Number seven," Lanie said.

"Lucky seven," Karpowski said.

"Not so lucky for Ms. Chettle," Kate said, taking out her phone.

"What's up, Beckett?" Esposito answered.

"Are you done takin' that statement?"

"Uniforms are processing him now."

"Great; I could use a couple more investigators."

"Body-drop?"

"Yeah, St. John's Church."

"Oh, yes, we caught that one. Ryan's interviewing the husband."

"Well, that's lucky. Karpowski and I are just leaving now."

"So, five of us working the same case? Won't that be crowded?"

"Actually, it'll just be four."

There was a pause.

"Ok. We'll see you."

"Yeah. Ok. Bye."

He narrowed his eyes as he stared down at the phone.

"Hey," said Ryan, approaching him.

"Hey," said Esposito, shaking himself out of his reverie. "How'd the interview with the husband go?"

"About as well as you'd expect. Guy's torn up." He nodded towards the phone. "Who was that?"

Espo lifted it for emphasis
"Oh, just... Beckett. She and Karpowski caught our new case."

"Karpowski?"

"Yeah, I guess you and I were busy, so..."

"Right, right."

"But it's weird. I don't think Castle's coming."

"I don't like it, Javi. Something is definitely going on with them and whatever it is, it's not good."

"Well, it's their business."

"Right. You're right."

Espo turned to leave.

"It's just -" Ryan stopped mid-sentence and sighed.

Espo turned back around
"You know what? It's killing me too. "

"Right? I mean, Beckett said she had something important to tell someone, and assuming it was Castle, I'm thinking it didn't end well. You know, bro - "

"Don't even say it, Kev."

"Well, maybe I wasn't too far off the mark before," he said in hushed tones. "Maybe she is - "

"Kevin!" Espo hissed. "I am warning you."

Ryan checked to make sure no one was listening in to their conversation.
"Well, accidents happen. Maybe she wanted to ease him into the conversation; maybe he said he didn't want more kids; they fought - "

"Kevin Ryan, I am thrilled for you - honestly, I am - but good God, man, you are a trained Detective and that is pure speculation. Now, Beckett said she would let us know what's going on; until then, let's get to work trying to solve a murder like two grown-ass men!"