I am embarrassed at how long this took, but I already have Chapter 25 in the works. Unfortunately, the case does not get solved in this chapter, but it will in the next. Apparently, I'm really bad at planning how many chapters a murder will take.

Anyway, here is the list of characters from the last chapter that you will need.
Daphne Johnson (aka Melissa Andrews) - the murder victim. She is also a CIA agent. Henceforward known as Melissa Andrews.
Agent Rodney Harrison - Melissa's supervisor at the CIA.
Michael Eckleridge - Daphne Johnson's boyfriend. Marine biologist.
Quick recap: Castle gets the Bond offer again but declines after having a heart to heard with Alexis. He also begins planning Taking Heat, the fourth installment. Kate and Lanie talk about The Fight. Kate talks to a student who was in love with the victim. They learn that the vic was fighting with a man who turned out to be from the CIA.

I hope that you enjoy this chapter. I will get on the next one now. Thank you for bearing with me. I really appreciate it.

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize does not belong to me. Castle and its franchise belongs to AWM, ABC, and whoever actually owns it. Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog belongs to Jed and Joss Whedon.

Chapter 24

Kate and Ryan stepped out of her car and looked up at the imposing World Trade Center building.

She had had an awful night's sleep. She tossed and turned, replaying her fight with Castle. Her dreams were plagued with yelling at a shadow – every horrific thing she said to him, over and over. She saw a figure that looked eerily similar to Castle lying on a tarp just like the one Melissa Andrews was lying on. Kate woke up covered is sweat and her heart pounding. It took her a couple minutes to remind herself that it was just a dream. Her hand moved automatically to her phone in order to call Castle to make sure that he was okay, but stopped as she unlocked her phone. She couldn't call him. Kate pulled herself out of bed and got ready for work. She put on copious amounts of eye makeup to hide the dark circles.

"So this is the CIA Field Office?" asked Ryan.

"I believe so," answered Kate, jerking back into the present. She had chosen to bring Ryan partly because she felt like they needed some time to bond, but partly because Ryan was not as pushy about her personal life. He was not as perceptive as his partner. Esposito was slightly offended that he had to stay back and do the scut work. "But that's Ryan's job," he had said. Kate stared at him until he went back to his desk with his tail between his legs.

The pair stepped inside and flashed their badges at the receptionist. "We're looking for Rodney Harrison," said Kate, using a cop voice.

"Do you have an appointment?" asked the receptionist coolly.

"No, but speaking from one Law Enforcement agency to another, I don't think I need one. Now please direct me to his office."

The receptionist looked at Kate appraisingly for a moment before turning to Ryan. A slight smile appeared on her face.

"By all means," she said to the Irish. "I apologize. He's on the fifth floor. Get off the elevators and take a right. I'll call up to the office there." Kate rolled her eyes at the woman's reaction to Ryan, but stalked to the elevators in silence.

"Are you this disdainful when you're with Castle and he gets attention?" teased Ryan in the elevator. Kate smiled in response.

"Let's go," she said furtively as the elevator doors opened. They stepped off and walked down a long, marble hall. They reached a glass door that had a doorbell on one side and an electronic card reader on the other. Kate pressed the buzzer and waited for a response.

"Yes?" came a crackly voice through the intercom.

"This is Detectives Beckett and Ryan with the NYPD."

"Oh, yes, we've been expecting you. Come in," the voice said as the door clicked open. Ryan pulled it open and motioned for Kate to go through first.

"I'm perfectly capable of opening a door, Ryan," she said.

"Hey, check this out," Ryan said, obviously trying to skirt the observation. He was pointing to a set of steel, sliding doors with the CIA logo imprinted on them. There was another buzzer and electronic card reader, and in addition, there was a scanner. This time, Ryan pressed the button.

"Umm, I thought you said we could come in," said Ryan through the small microphone.

"Please, Detective Ryan, this is the CIA. You really think it would be that easy? Please put your respective badges and driver's licenses under the scanner, and answer these questions."

"We're the NYPD, so you better just let us in," said Kate.

"And we're the CIA, so you better follow our protocol. Your badge, Detective Beckett."

Kate sighed and placed her badge under the scanner. Ryan followed suit. A red beam flashed over them and a beeping sound could be heard through the intercom.

"Please answer these questions," said the voice. "Detective, what is your call number?"

"That's your security question? Anyone can find that out."

"Answer the question." Kate had a strange sensation that she was being interrogated.

"Fine. It's one-Lincoln-forty."

"And yours, Detective Ryan?"

"William-sixteen."

"Very good. Now please tell me how you like your coffee."

"Again, a stupid question."

"Detective Beckett, if you have any intention of getting in here, you better start cooperating."

"This is ridiculous. I take a grande skim latte two pumps sugar free vanilla."

"Detective Ryan?"

"Regular with sugar and cream."

"What was the name of your childhood pet?"

"Trick question, I didn't have a childhood pet," said Kate.

"Harvette. I named him Harvey, but then she got pregnant, so I changed the name to Harvette," said Ryan. Kate looked at him questioningly. "What? I was five."

"Detective Beckett, how did Mr. Castle describe your former relationship with FBI Agent Sorenson?"

"What? How could you possibly know the answer to that?"

"We're the CIA," answered the voice in a bored tone. "Your answer?"

"He said it was a panda. Don't ask," she added for Ryan when he gave her a questioning look.

"Detective Ryan, who did your fiancée sleep with while you two were dating?"

This time, it was Kate who gave Ryan an incredulous look. "Michael Bailey," he answered easily.

"I am satisfied that you two are not imposters. Please, come in."

The steel doors opened with a hiss.

"I swear, if there is another door beyond this one, I will shoot it down with my gun," said Kate as they crossed the threshold. What greeted them was a long, dark hallway with arched, stone walls. There was a white light at the end of the hall.

"No need for that, Detective," came a deep, calming voice from the light. As if in a movie, a dark silhouette appeared backlit. "I'm Agent Harrison. I believe you requested a meeting with me."

"Finally," muttered Ryan.

"Yes. Is there somewhere more opportune to speak?" asked Kate, not stopping in her decent down the long hall.

"Of course, please follow me."

Kate and Ryan followed the silhouette to the end of the hallway/tunnel. It opened to a warm reception room where there was a kind looking woman sitting at a desk, speaking into an earpiece. "Would you please place your driver's license on the scanner?"

"So you're the one who asked all the ridiculous questions," joked Ryan as they passed.

"Guilty," answered the woman. "Excuse me," she said as she turned her attention back to her headset and computer.

"Detectives, I believe this will suit your purpose just fine," said Harrison, gesturing for them to take a seat. Kate waited for the door to close and the large man to sit before sitting herself. The room was light and airy. There were floor to ceiling windows that gave her a lovely panorama of downtown New York. The upholstery looked mass produced, but it was not distasteful. Kate briefly wondered where all the harried agents, large computer terminals, and state of the arts technology were. She guessed that it was somewhere past five more secured doors…far from civilian eyes.

"I can only assume you're here because of Daphne Johnson, aka, Agent Melissa Andrews," said Harrison, crossing his legs.

Kate saw that he was trying to take control of the situation, so she immediately began the interview.

"What was the nature of your relationship with her?"

"I was her supervisor."

"Can you tell me about her mission?"

"I'm sorry, Detective, but that is classified information."

Kate sighed. She knew getting information out of the CIA would not be simple. "I can get a warrant, if that's what it'll take."

Harrison squinted at Kate, trying to decide whether it was worth it.

"Fine," the CIA agent agreed. "Melissa Andrews was investigating a professor at Columbia who was suspected of being a spy for China to indoctrinate students to turn against the US government."

"People would do that?" asked Ryan.

"You'd be surprised," said Harrison, looking at Ryan as if he were an idiot.

"What were you arguing about with Ms. Andrews three days ago?"

"Agent Andrews. And I have not seen her for a week."

"Right," said Kate, suppressing an eye roll. "Now, I would believe you, except that we have a witness who places you near the University exchanging heated words with my victim. So, Agent Harrison, please tell me what you were arguing about or you will become a prime suspect in a murder investigation. I'm sure that your supervisor would not want to hear about that."

"You drive a hard bargain, Detective."

"I work Homicide," she said simply.

"I hear. Okay, we were arguing because I thought that she was taking her eye off the ball."

"What do you mean by that?"

"We would have weekly check ins, and I always saw her with that teacher. I assumed that they were together, and they were spending too much time together. He was being a distraction."

"So," said Kate, shifting in her seat. "I take it you would be worried that she would slip up and let someone know that she was an undercover agent."

"That is correct."

"Agent Harrison, where were you between seven and eleven Monday morning?"

"Are you asking for my alibi?"

"It would appear so," said Ryan.

"Fine. I had a meeting from nine-thirty until lunch time."

"Which is what?" prompted Kate.

"Twelve-ish."

"Where were you before that?" asked Ryan, breaking into the conversation.

"I was here, working."

"Is there anyone who can corroborate that?"

"I'm sure Janna can."

"Who's Janna?"

"The lady at the desk."

"Thank you, Agent Harrison. We will be in touch," said Kate, standing. The agent stood with her and held his hand out to shake.

"Good to finally meet you, Detective Beckett. I've heard a lot about you."

"I'm sure you have," Kate answered coolly. She knew that the next sentence would have something to do with Nikki Heat. Damned book. Damned Castle.

"I think I might like Nikki Heat better."

Kate sighed. Called it, she thought. "Interesting, but, sorry to break it to you, Nikki Heat only lives on paper. I'm afraid you'll have to deal with the real thing."

"I'm sure I'll be able to," said the man, looking her up and down.

"Hey," said Ryan sharply. "Have a good day." The Irish walked out of the room, and Kate followed him.

"What a jerk," Ryan muttered as they walked down the long, stone hall to the steel doors.

"Ryan," scolded Kate. "But yeah, kinda."

They reached the door and found no way to open it. "What is your favorite kind of pizza?" came a voice that echoed through the tunnel.

"You have got to be kidding me," said Kate, rolling her eyes and placing her hands on her hips.

"I sure am. Thank you for visiting the New York CIA Field Office. Please come again soon, but only if it is you."

The double doors hissed open, and the two detectives made their way back to Kate's car.

"Ryan," she said as they pulled into traffic. "I want you to go back to the precinct and check into Harrison's alibi. I'm going to go with Esposito to talk to Andrews' parents."

"Where do they live?"

"Up in the Heights. West One-Seventy-Third and Audubon."

"Why can't I go with you?"

"Ryan," warned Kate.

"Fine." Ryan moped the rest of the ride back to the 12th.

"Hey Espo, you're with me," called Kate, stepping off the elevator of the Fourth floor.

Esposito looked up from his desk, as if questioning whether she was joking or not. "Seriously?"

"Yes, now let's go."

"See ya, sucker," hissed Esposito jokingly as he passed Ryan.

"Be nice," said Kate. It's like running a Kindergarten.

"So where are we going?" asked Esposito as Kate sailed up St. Nicholas Avenue.

"West One-Seventy-Third and Audubon. We're almost there." Kate took a right onto 173rd and pulled her car to a stop in a double parked parking space.

"I could cite you, you know," joke Esposito.

"And I could arrest you for assaulting an officer," Kate quipped back

"Let's just call it even."

Kate nodded and headed for an apartment building. She buzzed the bell for apartment 16c.

"Who's there?"

"Detectives Beckett and Esposito with the NYPD. We have some questions about your daughter."

"Oh, of course, Detectives. Please, come in."

The door buzzed, notifying her that the locking system had been disarmed. Esposito pushed open the door and motioned for her to proceed.

"What is it with you guys opening doors for me today?" she asked.

"I don't know why Ryan did it, but I do it out of habit. Once, Ryan and I were on a case and he pulled open the door, hitting himself in the head. Ever since, I've opened any doors."

"Good to know I have such competent team mates, huh?"

"As long as we've got a good boss."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Uh huh, sure."

"Hello, Detectives," said a woman's voice from the landing. A slightly plump woman, wearing a floral dress and a lilac cardigan was looking over the railing, showing Kate and Esposito where to go.

"Mrs. Andrews?" asked Esposito.

"Yes, that's me. Please, come in. Would you like some water—" Kate opened her mouth to respond. "—or some juice? We have apple, orange, and cranberry. You know, cranberry juice is beneficial to your GI system."

"Uh, Mrs. Andrews, we're fine, thank you."

"Okay. Let me get you some water anyway."

Esposito shook his head, knowing there was no way they would be getting out of accepting some kind of refreshment from the woman.

"Hello Mr. Andrews," said Kate politely, shaking the hand of a distinguished looking man. He wore a royal blue cable sweater and khaki pants.

"Hello. Shirley, darling, don't force them," he said to his wife who was trying to place water glasses in the detective's hands. "What can we do for you Detectives?"

"We're here about your daughter, Melissa," said Kate, taking a seat on a well-worn chair.

"She's dead, isn't she?" asked Mr. Andrews. Mrs. Andrews gripped her husband's arm and buried her face into his shoulder. The husband rested a hand on her head, gently stroking it. Kate's heartstrings tugged as she saw the pure love between the two.

She squinted and shifted in her seat. "I'm very sorry for your loss. How did you know?"

"Detective Beckett, we've been waiting for this visit ever since she joined the CIA. Deep down, I think we always knew that we'd be here."

"What did you know about your daughter's life?"

"Not much," said Mrs. Andrews, wiping her eyes with her hand. "She was in the CIA, so she couldn't tell us about her job."

"Was there anyone special in her life?" asked Esposito.

"Our daughter – she was different. Not in a bad way, but just different."

"What do you mean, Mr. Andrews?"

"She had a girlfriend. Rory…what was her last name, Shirley?"

"Miller. Rory Miller. They'd been together for a couple of months. It seemed pretty serious. You don't think that's why she was murdered…because she was gay?"

"We're not sure at the moment. Do you know where we could find Ms. Miller?"

"Last I heard, she was a chemistry teacher at Stuyvesant High School on Chambers street downtown."

"Yes, I know it," said Kate. She was momentarily taken back to the days when she would make the half hour commute to get to school each morning.

"Was there any bad blood between them?" Esposito asked, taking a sip of the water.

"No, Rory was a great girl. We both really liked her," said Mr. Andrews, trading a look with his wife.

"Was there anyone in your daughter's life that might want her dead?"

"Not in the life that we knew. As I said, it was all cloak and daggers when it came to her work."

"I understand. Do you have the contact information for Rory Miller?"

"Of course," said Mrs. Andrews. "Let me get that for you." She stood and shuffled off down the hall and disappearing through a door.

"Detectives, Mel was one of the only things that Shirley truly cared about. She plays the housemother, but she's not really like that. She's deeply depressed. She's gotten better, but…"

"I'm very sorry." Kate was about to say more when Mrs. Andrews came back.

"Here you go, Detective."

"Thank you."

"Can I get you something before you leave?"

"No, thanks, we should be going. I'm sorry again for your loss. You have been nothing but hospitable."

"Well, you know where to find us," said Mr. Andrews, opening the door.

"What do you think?" asked Esposito as they went to Kate's unmarked.

"They're just loving parents. But we have to talk to the girlfriend."

Alexis turned her key in the lock to the front door. She didn't see the customary crack of light shining through the door and was quite confused about why the lights were off. She felt her way along the wall, hoping to find the light switch, but there was a child safety box over it and she couldn't undo the latch in the dark. She walked through the apartment, knowing where to go by habit, looking for the switch to the lights in the kitchen. There was a similar box on those ones, too.

"Dad?" she called, wondering where he was.

"In here, Grasshopper," Rick responded from somewhere around his office.

Alexis began to make her way to where she heard him. She cursed silently as her shin knocked into the low coffee table. Ouch, I forgot we moved that, she thought. She was just about to make it to his office when she walked straight into a sheet that seemed to be suspended across his door.

"Argh, Dad, what is this?" she cried, batting her hands as if being attacked.

"I was thinking about what you said earlier," said Rick, flipping a switch so the lamp on his desk turned on. It emitted a yellowish glow that was hardly enough to light the apartment, but it threw him into silhouette. Suddenly, Alexis was faced with the shadow of her father sitting at his desk, holding something over his shoulder. "It has been a while since we've fought."

Before she could react, Alexis heard the all too familiar sound of the laser tag gun going off. She laughed and made her way into her father's office, placing her coat and purse on a chair.

She smiled at him, taking her vest and gun. "Thanks Dad, this is really nice."

"Well, I've pretty much exhausted my creative brains for today, and thought, why not? You ready?"

"Of course," said Alexis, leaping over the ottoman. She raced out of his office and weaved her way through the living room. She jumped momentarily when the piano suddenly began playing. This is what I've been missing, she thought to herself as she hid behind one of the columns. It had been so long since they had battled, but Alexis was falling back into her former glory without a problem.

"I'm going to get you, Dr. Horrible," said Castle in a 'scary' voice.

"Really? Dr. Horrible? Isn't that cliché by now?" asked Alexis, pausing in the game. Ever since that internet phenomena occurred, that was the scenario they played out. Every time.

"It's not my fault that it's pure genius," defended Castle, also pausing in his attempts to shoot Alexis.

"You just like it because the good guy looks like you."

"He sounds like me, too."

"God, Dad, can your ego get any bigger?"

"Nah. If it did, I would insist you call me Captain Hammer."

"Isn't that what you're doing now?"

"I'd make you do it all the time."

"Ah," said Alexis. "Fine, then I suppose I'll play along. Again."

The smile on Rick's face couldn't have been bigger. "So, Dr. Horrible, we meet again."

"It seems so, Hammer. I will take you down."

"Oh, like you did that time when I stole your girl?"

"If I remember correctly, it was I who actually saved her."

"Right," Rick drawled, perfectly in character. Before Alexis knew what was going on, her father suddenly began singing A Man's Gotta Do What a Man's Gotta Do. She had no choice but to join in when it came her turn. They ran around the first floor of Castle's loft for a good hour, neither managing to get a hit in.

"You've gotten better," panted Rick as Alexis yet again evaded his laser.

"You've gotten worse," responded Alexis.

"Then why haven't you beaten me yet?"

"Because I'm having fun. Anyway, I know you'll forfeit soon...this has been a long battle."

Martha had retired after ten minutes and turned on the lights. Sometime during the scuffle, the lights had been knocked off again, but neither daughter nor father was complaining.

"Dr. Horrible always wins," said Alexis triumphantly as she took off her goggles and wiped sweat from her forehead. Rick was sitting on the couch, trying to catch his breath. His vest was blinking, indicating that he was hit.

"Captain Hammer is still better," he said. "Pumpkin, grab me a glass of water, please?"

Alexis went to the kitchen and poured two tall glasses of ice water. "Here, Dad," she said, handing it to him. He placed it on his forehead before taking a long sip.

"Thanks, sweetie."

"You're welcome. Dad," she began. "Thanks for this. It meant a lot."

"Of course, Alexis. I'm sorry that I've been preoccupied lately. I feel awful about it."

"It's okay, I understand."

"I know you do, but I want you to tell me when I'm falling off the deep end again. I want you to pull me back in."

"Sure thing. Now I really have to go study, but this was super fun."

"I'm glad."
Alexis placed a light kiss on her father's cheek as she got up to go to her room. Before she could stand, Rick captured her in a massive hug.

"Ew, you smell bad. Go take a shower," she cried, struggling against his body mass.

"You're not smelling too peachy either, Kiddo. See you for dinner."

Rick watched as Alexis scurried upstairs to take a shower and get some of her work done. He was proud of her. She was more adult than him and Martha combined, and sometimes, he truly wondered where she got some of her genes from.

Kate walked into the school and immediately began to feel a strong sense of déjà vu. It was obvious that it was occurring because Kate was walking down the halls of her alma mater. It had changed in the fourteen years since she had graduated. Everything looked newer, but there were still some things that looked as if they hadn't changed a bit.

"We're going to room 109a," said Esposito, reading from a text message on his phone. He looked around and remarked, "Nice school."

Kate nodded. "It is," she agreed. "I have so many memories from here."

"You went here?"

"Sure did. I bet you wouldn't recognize me if you knew me then."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Esposito.

Kate gave her customary half smile and eye roll. "Oh, here's the room," she said, not so discreetly. She looked in the window and saw a young woman standing at the front of the class with a student. The students seemed to be making a presentation.

Esposito knocked on the door and the teacher looked at them. Kate flashed her badge and they saw the teacher say something to her students. She came out into the hall.

"Ms. Miller? I'm Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD, and this is Detective Javier Esposito. We have some questions about Melissa Andrews." said Kate, tucking her badge back into her coat pocket.

"Will it take long? I'm in the middle of an oral test," said Miller, glancing back at her students.

"Not long at all. When does class end?"

"In about fifteen minutes. Can we talk then?"

"Sure thing. Where would you like to meet?"

"My office is right next door. I'll see you then."

Kate nodded and tugged at Esposito's arm to get him to walk away with her. "So Espo, you want me to show you around?" He nodded excitedly, and Kate began to walk off.

"Come on, I'll show you where I spent most of my time."

They passed classrooms on either side with students looking very serious and engaged with the subject matter.

"Man, this school is intense," said Esposito, looking into another classroom.

"It's an accelerated school for science and math."

"You were a brainiac in high school?"

"Not exactly," said Kate. "See? This is where I spent most of my time."

"We're at the front office."

"Exactly."

"No…"

"Yes. I spent most of high school in detention or the principal's office."

"And you didn't get expelled?"

"No, because I still got straight A's."

"Man, you wouldn't have given me the time of day," said Esposito, looking at his boss in wonder. He was learning so much about her.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," she answered cryptically. "Come, we should get back to the science wing."

They walked in silence, Kate letting out a sigh here or there. Esposito was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that the hardnosed, driven boss of his was a bad girl at school.

"Hi, sorry to keep you waiting," said Rory Miller, approaching them, carrying a large stack of textbooks and papers.

"Not a problem, Ms. Miller. Do you need some help?" asked Esposito.

"No thanks, but if you could open the door, that would be great."

They stepped into the small office and Rory placed her stuff on a filing cabinet. She took a seat at her desk and adjusted a stray pen, so it was facing the same way as the rest of them.

"How can I help you, Detectives," she asked, folding her hands in front of her.

"We're here about Melissa Andrews. What was your relationship with her?"

Rory's eyes shifted back and forth; it was clear that she was trying to decide how to answer the question. "I—we were…seeing each other."

"Were you romantically involved?"

"Yes, but…" Kate looked at the teacher expectantly. "We broke it off a while ago."

"Define a while?"

"A couple of years ago, I'd say."

"May I ask why?"

"She was going to some remote place in Africa to work on some dig type thing. She was mostly a cultural anthropologist, but she also held a degree in forensic anthropology. I don't know if you know, but there aren't very many of them, so she was called to help identify victims of a mass grave dating back centuries."

Kate glanced at Esposito, not quite sure how to tell this woman that her girlfriend had not even left the borough. "Ms. Miller," began Kate. Esposito had heard enough about Kate's ability to talk to families that he didn't even try to butt in. "I'm afraid we have some bad news."

"Oh my god," breathed Rory.

"Melissa Andrews was found murdered on Monday. We're very sorry for your loss."

"This is surreal," Rory said quietly, her eyes making unidentifiable shapes in the air. "I mean, we haven't talked in about three years, but I never stopped loving her. I mean, we were all set to get married, but then she got called away. I kept writing to her, but I never heard back. She's dead?"

"I know this is hard, but we have to ask you a couple questions."

"Of course, anything I can do to help."

"This might come as a bit of a shock to you, but did you know that Ms. Andrews was an agent with the CIA?"

"What? No, no. She was an anthropologist. She worked here. I mean, that's how we met."

"She was mostly a covert-ops agent," said Esposito, breaking in for the first time. "She worked here when she was not on a mission. For the past few years, she's been at Columbia University."

"You mean she didn't leave New York?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"Why would she lie?"

"We don't know. We found that Ms. Andrews, alias Daphne Johnson, had a boyfriend. Did you know about that?"

"Detective, I didn't even know that she was still in town. How could you think that I knew she had a boyfriend?"

"Where were you Monday between seven and eleven in the morning?"

"I was here. I get here every morning at seven-fifteen to prep for classes. I leave my apartment at six forty-five. There's a doorman, so you can check. You don't think I killed her, do you?"

"If your alibi checks out, then no. Otherwise, we'll have to consider it as an option."

Rory was about to answer when the door to her office opened.

"Hey, Ror. You ready?" asked a tall male.

"Just a sec, Carter. Detectives, this is my brother, Carter Miller."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Miller," said Kate, standing up. Esposito followed suit. "Ms. Miller, please don't hesitate to call if you can think of anything."

"Of course. Thank you for coming down to talk to me."

Kate nodded and led Esposito out the door. As they headed down the hallway, they could hear the brother asking, "What was that about?"

"Did you get anything out of the family?" asked Ryan as the pair returned to the precinct.

"Apparently, our vic had a girlfriend in her old life. They broke up years ago, but she still has a strong motive. Ryan, could you please check out her alibi?"

Ryan nodded. "I didn't find anything new," he informed them.

"Can you please bring in Michael Eckleridge? I want to talk to him again."

Her team members nodded and Kate headed to the break room to get a cup of coffee. She also pulled out some left overs that had "Det. Beck" scribbled on the top of the white carton. She smelled them and decided that it wasn't spoiled. She stuck it onto a plate and placed it into the microwave. To be honest, she didn't even remember what it was, but it was food and that's all that really mattered.

A minute and a half later, she pulled the steaming, popping Chinese food out of the microwave and sat at the table with her cup of coffee.

Lunch used to be some food with Castle by her side to tell her a funny joke or to just have company. Since their fight, she ate alone, and people knew that. No one dared interrupt Kate while she was eating.

She took one bite of the steaming food and spit it out taking a long swig of coffee to wash the taste of spoiled hoisin sauce. "Uch," she said to herself, dumping the food in the garbage. Kate went back to the bull pen to get her coat, purse, gun, and badge.

"I'll be back. Eckleridge better be here," she called to her team, while pushing the button for the elevator.

She stepped out onto the street and arbitrarily turned left. She didn't like leaving the precinct for lunch, but sometimes, there wasn't another option.

Kate ate swiftly, not wanting to miss anything back at the 12th. Within twenty minutes, she was back at her desk, arranging some files to give to a uniform.

"Hey yo, Becket," said Esposito, coming over with a folder in hand. "Eckleridge is here. He's in Interrogation Two."

"Thanks, Espo," she said, taking the file from him and heading towards the interrogation room.

"Hello, Mr. Eckleridge," she said, sitting herself down across from the fidgeting teacher.

"Nice to see you again, Detective Beckett. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Actually, I have some questions for you. Did you know that your girlfriend was in the CIA?"
"What?" asked Eckleridge, his eyebrows shooting up so far that they seemed to disappear under his bangs.

"You girlfriend, Daphne Johnson, was actually Agent Melissa Andrews, were you aware of that?"

"What?" he asked again. "How could I have known? She was at Columbia for years."

"Did you know that she was gay?"

"Detective, this is a lot of new information at one time. You're basically telling me that everything I thought was true for the last couple of years is false. My girlfriend had a girlfriend, she was in the CIA, and Daphne wasn't her real name."

"Mr. Eckleridge, I'm going to ask you again. Where were you Monday between seven and eleven in the morning?"

"I told you, I was grading papers and meeting with students."

"And what about between two and two-forty-five in the afternoon?"

"I had office hours."

"Then why is there a little part of me that doesn't believe you?"

"Detective, I'm telling you the truth. You must have run down my alibi since last time we talked. You know just as well as I that I did not kill my girlfriend."

Kate stood and began making slow circles around Eckleridge. "You know, Mr. Eckleridge," she began. "I don't like it when people tell me what I do or do not know. You have to see it from our point of view. Melissa Andrews—"

"Please, her name was Daphne," Eckleridge almost begged.

"You're mistaken. Her name was Melissa Andrews. She had a girlfriend, but they broke up years ago. Her girlfriend didn't know that Melissa was back in town. You are our only viable suspect. You were romantically involved with my victim. So what if you found out that your Daphne Johnson was lying to you? What if you realized that she wasn't who you thought she was. We found her at the penguin tanks, Michael. You're favorite place. All the evidence is pointing towards you."

"No, I told you I didn't do it. You have to believe me."

"And why would that be?"

"Because I'm a Marine Biologist. You think I'll last a day in jail? No, I've worked too hard to get this career. No way would I risk it all for the girl."

"A girl who was lying to you about her identity and her life."

"No, I didn't do it."

"Michael Eckleridge, you are under arrest for the murder of Melissa Andrews," Kate began, taking out her handcuffs. She wasn't totally sure he did it, but she had enough to hold him, and the threat of actually being arrested sometimes helped criminals talk.

"No, I didn't do it," he kept saying, even as she closed the steel cuffs around his wrists.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law."

A uniform came in to take him away as Kate finished his Miranda Rights. 'You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you."

Kate could hear him saying "I didn't do it" over and over as the uniformed officer took him to holding.

"So you really think he did it?" asked Ryan, coming out of observation with Esposito on his heel.

"I'm not sure, but we have enough to hold him. Maybe that will encourage him to talk."

"So what now? Should we start processing?" asked Esposito.

Before Kate could answer, Montgomery came up to them, looking to where Eckleridge was being led away by a uniform.

"Did you get your guy?" he asked in his calming way.

"Maybe. We still need to lock down a motive," answered Kate.

"What do you have so far?"

"Our vic was a CIA agent—"

"Too bad Castle isn't here. He's been waiting for CIA since day one," joked Montgomery, momentarily forgetting the current complications. He took one look at his head detective and regretted his words immediately.

Kate smiled, seeing the panic in her captain's eyes. It was unusual for him to slip up in that way, but she assumed that with the annual precinct reviews coming up, his mind was elsewhere. "It's okay, Sir. Anyway, we found that the vic had a girlfriend, but as the undercover agent, she had a boyfriend, Eckleridge. We're holding him on the murder, because he didn't know she was CIA or that she was gay, and therefore he could have figured out and killed her in a crime of passion."

"Do you have any solid evidence against him?"

"That's the problem, Sir. We have enough to hold, but I'm not sure we have enough to prosecute."

"I see. Well I suggest going back to the CIA and question her commander. You never know what you might turn up."

"Okay, Sir, thank you, Sir," said Kate, nodding her head. Montgomery headed back to his office and Kate turned to her two team members.

"Who wants to come with me to the CIA?" she asked. Ryan and Esposito looked at each other, and under some unspoken agreement, they both tucked the folders they were holding under their arms and held out their fists, intending to begin a rocks-paper-scissors battle. Kate rolled her eyes at their immaturity. "Am I that unpleasant to be around?" she asked.

They looked at her for a moment before shaking their fists three times. Both the detectives held out scissors. They tried again. Rocks. They tried once more. Paper.

"One more time," said Ryan, re-tucking his folder. One, two, three, rocks.

"For crying out loud, Esposito, you're with me. Ryan, start processing Eckleridge's paperwork. Get all the evidence we have together and start filing for the DA."

Ryan and Esposito looked at each other forlornly, before Esposito turned to follow Kate. Just as the elevator rang, indicating it was at their floor, Esposito shook his fist at Ryan who reciprocated. Both scissors. What were the odds?

Rick finished making himself a hearty lunch filled with mashed potatoes, pizza, and pasta.

"Really, Richard, you should try to eat a little healthier," said Martha, descending from the second floor, reaching for a glass of wine.

"Says the woman who's intake each day is five glasses of wine, and a piece of fruit."

Martha smacked him in the head with the rolled up magazine she was carrying. "How is your day going, Darling?"

"Slow. Still working on the outline for Taking Heat."

"It really is a brilliant title."

"Right?" asked Rick, a child-like smile illuminating his face. "It just came to me."

"Genius always does," said Martha wisely.

Rick inclined his head to her and lifted his water glass to clink with her wine glass.

"I'm going out to a function, so don't wait up."

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Rick, giving his mother a light peck on the cheek.

"Bye, Darling," Martha said, closing the door behind her. Rick finished his water in two sips and placed his glass in the dishwasher. He made his way back to his study, but his eye got caught on a slip of paper sitting on the coffee table, slightly obstructed by his coffee table books. Being the snoop he was, Rick picked up the paper and saw a number. There was no name, but the paper looked and felt old. It was crinkled, as if it had been crumpled and un-crumpled many times. The ink was beginning to fade, but Rick recognized it as his mother's handwriting.

He sat on the couch, holding the number between his hands. He wondered who it belonged to. Who would answer if he called it? Why had his mother kept it for so long? Why did it look like it had been kept in a wallet for years, taken out occasionally, only to be crumpled in indecision? He wondered where it had been, what it had experienced, what brought his mother to write down this number and keep it for years. It looked like the kind of paper that could be thrown out in the next day's trash. And why was it hidden? Rick pondered many different scenarios. He must have sat with the slip of paper for an hour. He knew his mother had had a lot of different lovers over the years (ew), but what made this one special? What warranted this number to be kept over the years? What made it different from all the other numbers?

Rick was about to put it back where he found it and continue with Nikki Heat when it hit him. Could it be his father's? Could that be why it was kept for so many years? Could that be why it looked so rumpled? Because Martha had debated calling him and telling him he had a son?

Suddenly, Rick dropped the slip of paper as if it had burned him. He didn't want to know, did he? He was happy not knowing. When he didn't know, his father could be anyone. He didn't want to ruin that illusion. What if his father didn't hold up to his expectations? What if his father was a criminal? Worst of all, what if he was dead?

Rick began pacing, running his hand through his hair. He had a couple options. He could leave the paper where he found it and forget about it. He could call the number for himself and find out who was at the other end. But what would he say? Hello, my name is Richard Castle. I found your number under a book, and I just wanted to call to ask if you were my father. No, that wouldn't do. And even so, how would be introduce himself? Richard Castle? Richard Rogers? He wasn't really Richard Rogers anymore, but maybe he wanted to be. Did Kate make him want to be more like Richard Rogers? Was he ever Richard Castle? Was that just an alias he made up for writing because it was more dramatic? Was he really ever that persona. No, this slip of paper brought up far too many questions that he didn't know how to, nor did he want to, deal with.

And then there was the final option. Call someone from the precinct, and asked them to run it down for him. But would they talk to him, after what he said to Kate? He knew how protective they were of her.

Kate. Another issue entirely. He knew he said that he would wait for her to come to him this time, but being apart was killing him. It drove him insane to know that he couldn't go back to the precinct. It was making him go stir crazy that he couldn't drive to her apartment with some consolation Chinese food and be done with it. He couldn't let himself think about how she was feeling. If he opened that door, then he would feel too guilty to wait out their fight. He knew they had many issues to get through before they could be happy, and that scared him. He knew, rationally, that it shouldn't, but he had never felt this way with Kate. He even considered changing his name back to Richard Rogers for her. They could be the Rogers', not the Castles. But that was only a figment of his dreams. It would never truly work out. But he couldn't deny that Kate Rogers sounded nicer than Kate Castle. Too many 'kuh's. But he was really jumping the gun. It would be years before they got married, if they got married at all.

Rick didn't know what to do. His thoughts had strayed so far from the slip of paper that it was completely possible for him to put it back and retreat to his bed, lie down, and ponder his improbable future with Kate. Was that what he wanted? To forget what he found today? Part of his said yes, and part of him said no. He knew that he wouldn't stop thinking about the phone number, now that it was possibility of being his father. All his life, he had assumed that he didn't want to know, but when presented with the situation in which he could find out, there was something irrevocably tugging at him to call Esposito. Rick knew there was no way he could call the number himself, and he also knew that Esposito would be more willing to help him.

Before he could chicken out, Rick pulled out his phone and dialed Esposito's number.

Esposito was in the car with Kate on the way to the CIA office. He was excited to go, because Ryan had told him about how ridiculous security was. He jumped slightly when his phone started ringing, and Kate glanced at him. He fished it out of his pocket and saw that the caller ID said that Castle was calling. He looked at Kate, and seeing that she was completely focused on the road, he answered the phone.

"Esposito."

"Hey, can you talk?" asked Castle.

Esposito glanced at Kate once more before answering. "Sure, but not for long."

"Great. Um…I was wondering if you could run down a phone number for me."

"What?"

"You know, plug in the ten digits, wait while the computer finds a match and run a background check on the guy."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I think this number belongs to my father."

Esposito was silent. He was glad that Kate couldn't hear his conversation. He saw her chance a glance at him while they were at a red light. She furrowed her brow, indicating she wanted to know who was on the phone. Esposito waved it off, and before Kate could pry further, the light turned green, and she was being honked at.

"You still there, man?" asked Castle.

"Are you sure?"

"No, but I'd like to know."

"I'm not sure…" said Esposito, keeping himself from saying Castle's name.

"Please? I…I just need to know."

Esposito hadn't heard Castle sound so helpless in a long time. This was the first time that Castle sounded genuinely helpless – all the other times had just been so he could get Kate's attention.

The detective sighed and said, "Fine. Hang on while I get a pen."

He poked Kate who nearly hit another driver. She sent him a death glare, but he just mimed writing. She rolled her eyes, and without taking her eyes from the road, she reached over and pulled a pen and pad from the glove compartment. The ease with which she pulled the utensils made Esposito wonder how many times in the past she had done that.

"What's the number?" asked Esposito, propping the paper on this thigh.

Castle rattled off the digits and thanked the detective. Esposito hung up the phone and placed the piece of paper into his chest pocket.

"What was that about?" asked Kate.

"Nothing, just some personal business," muttered Esposito, not meeting her eyes.

"Uh huh," she said, not believing him in the slightest. She would get it out of him.

"Oh look, here we are," he told her, nearly jumping from the car the moment she pulled in into 'park.'

Kate didn't even listen when the receptionist tried to stop them again. She just rang the bell for the elevator, ignoring the cold woman's protests.

"Don't look back," she warned Esposito. He didn't argue and followed her into the elevator.

The stepped out and Kate muttered, "Just so you know, they ask us ridiculous questions. Get ready to answer."

Esposito nodded and pressed the doorbell.

"Yes?" came a voice.

"Detectives Beckett and Esposito, here to talk to Agent Harrison," said Kate, doing her best to sound bored.

"Ah, welcome back Detective, please come in."

"That wasn't so bad," whispered Esposito as they passed through.

"That wasn't, but this is," answered Kate, pushing the button near the microphone.

"Please place your badges and driver's licenses on the scanner," said the woman is a bored tone. The two detectives fished out the required identification. "Detective Beckett, what was the date of your mother's murder?"

Kate sighed. Here we go, she thought. "January ninth, nineteen-ninety-nine."

"Detective Esposito, what happened to you when you came back from combat and you were out drinking with your buddies?"

"I hid under the table, thinking we were back under attack."

"Thank you, that will be all. Agent Harrison will be by to meet you momentarily."

Esposito looked at Kate, who looked just as shaken as he did. "Sorry, Javi, last time, they asked us about our call numbers."

"It's okay. I just don't really like to think about it."

Kate opened her mouth to respond but was cut off when Agent Harrison came to meet them.

"Ah, Detective Beckett, how nice to see you again."

Esposito had heard about her prior experience with the agent, and before Harrison could say anything else, Esposito thought it would be an opportune time to introduce himself. "Detective Esposito."

"A pleasure. Now what can I help you with today?"

"We were wondering if there was anything else you could tell us about Melissa Andrews."

"Like what?" asked Harrison, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He raised his glass, silently asking if the detectives wanted any. Kate shook her head and muttered a 'no thank you,' while Esposito just gave a curt shake of his head.

"What was she like at work? What was her working relationships like?"

"She was one of the best agents we had," said Harrison, standing to look out the panoramic view of the water. "She was diligent and kind. I remember when she came for her job interview. We were all impressed with her level of cognitive testing. She scored off the charts."

"Was there tension between her and any of the other agents?"

"Not that I know of. She had a partner when she first started, and they had a fallout. She requested to be reassigned."

"I'm going to need the name of that partner."

"No need, Detective, he was killed in the line of duty years ago."

"Anything else you can tell us?" asked Esposito.

"No, not that I can think of."

Kate nodded and turned to leave. Just when they reached the door, she heard two agents coming down the hall. She caught a snippet of their conversation, and what she heard troubled her.

"Yes, I heard that he got into a fight recently," said the first agent.

"No way. I always though Agent Miller was so level headed," the second agent responded.

"You know Carter…you think one thing, but one false move, and he's on you like a cheetah."

The detectives' ears perked up when they heard Carter Miller.

"Just a moment, Agent Harrison," said Kate, turning back to the CIA personnel.

"What can I do for you?"

"What can you tell me about Agent Carter Miller?"

"Why?"

"Because we think he might have something to do with our murder investigation," explained Esposito.

"I'm sorry, Detective, due to the sensitive nature of our agent's knowledge, we cannot talk about them unless there is probably cause."

"I think being a suspect in a murder investigation is probable cause," said Kate, coolly.

"And how is Agent Miller connected to your murder?"

"Well, due to the sensitive nature of our murder investigations, I do not have to tell you. Now please, before I have to get a court order. What can you tell me about Agent Carter Miller?"

Esposito looked at Kate in wonder. He had been working as a cop for years and he was special forces before that, but Kate had a toughness that could only be created through an intense, personal drive to give the victims justice. And he wasn't embarrassed to say it. He was a normal man. Seeing Kate strike someone down verbally was kind of hot. But he had Lanie.

Harrison sighed. He didn't want to tell the police about Miller, but apparently he didn't have a choice.

"Agent Miller is a fantastic asset to the CIA. He is smart, loyal, and he cares."

"So why did that agent say that even though he was level headed, if you provoked him, he would pounce?"

"Miller was known for his passion. His drive. Yet, just like anyone who cares too much, if you do something that he does not approve of, he can become violent."

"I see. And where is he now?"

"That I cannot tell you, Detective."

"Fine, we'll just find out another way. Good day, Agent Harrison."

Kate led the way out of the office, intending to call Rory Miller to find out the whereabouts of her brother. Esposito followed, giving Agent Harrison one last glare.

"Do you want me to call Ms. Miller?" asked Esposito.

"Yeah, that would be great. I'm going to call Ryan and find out if he verified Eckleridge's alibi. If so, we'll have to cut him loose."

In the car, Kate and Esposito made their respective phone calls. It turned out that Mr. Miller was at his apartment with his girlfriend in Chelsea, and Ryan confirmed that Eckleridge could not have killed or disposed of Melissa Andrews' body.

"Fine," said Kate, pulling into traffic. "Process him out. We have a new suspect now."

I hope it was worth the wait. It nearly killed me that this took so long. The next chapter will be up ASAP. I love all reviews...they make me happy. Thank you especially to Natalie1988 for PMing me and encouraging me to finish this.

We've got A LOT left, so don't stop reading now. Thanks! And have a great week!
Mangotango101