Fic Submission: Double Down and Dirty
...did I make it under the deadline!?
Title: Double Down and Dirty
Author: michygeary
Characters/pairings: Ryan/Esposito, Castle/Beckett
Rating/Warnings: Somewhere between PG and PG-13.
Spoilers: Up through 202 "The Double Down."
Word Count: 5,940
Summary: When two fresh murders crop up at the same time, Castle challenges Ryan and Esposito to another bet--this time, with much higher stakes.
Author's Note: I usually don't like when people take something that happened on the show and repeat it in a fan-fiction. And I realize that's kind of the premise for my story. But I promise some fun stuff beyond that: stuff which, I assure you, hasn't happened on the show. =D
It had been almost a year since the crew had bet on the Hudson River cases, which resulted in its ambiguous dénouement. In that time there had been no opportunity for the crew to pit their crime-sniffing talents against each other, as their cases typically came in one and a time. But finally, one weary Tuesday morning when even the sun was sleeping in with most of New York, two very strange but very different murder cases came to the detectives of the twelfth precinct.
The first was forty-eight-year-old Timothy Gardens, found in the alley behind a candy shop. Like clockwork the second body, twenty-two-year-old Madelyn Wentwood, dropped at a campsite when the Preston family arrived for their daughter's fifth birthday party.
And Castle just couldn't resist.
"Come on," he whined, "it'll be a great way to settle this once and for all."
"Settle what?" Ryan sighed, monitoring the steady stream of Espresso as it fell from the nozzle and into his mug.
"That Beckett and I are better crime-solvers than you two."
"Whoaaaa," Esposito said, holding a hand up. "Let's not forget who won the last bet."
"Yeah, we smoked you guys," Ryan added, stirring his foam carefully.
"Hey," Castle protested, pointing at the two of them, "we never agreed on that."
"What's to agree on?" Esposito asked. "The degree to which we smoked you?" Ryan gave an appreciative laugh as he sipped his coffee.
"I'm just saying, it got a little hazy at the end," the writer argued, though the other boys were shaking their heads and scoffing. "This would be a way to know for sure. Or are you girls afraid you'll lose again?"
That got their attention.
"Dibs on the campsite case," Ryan said immediately.
"Yeah, you can have Sally's Sweet Tooth."
"Deal."
"We should probably establish some ground rules."
Castle leaned back in Beckett's chair and put his feet up on her desk. "Like what?"
"Like," Esposito said, "no solving each other's cases."
"Yeah, that's what got us into trouble last time," Ryan said. "If you help the other team, they still get the glory."
"Works for me," Castle said. "I don't plan on helping you boys win again."
"So we're agreed?" Ryan said. "A win for us means closing the Wentwood case first, and a win for you and Beckett means closing the Gardens case first."
"Agreed."
Beckett walked in just as the boys were shaking on it. Spying them, she stopped, her empty coffee mug sandwiched between her palms, and sighed. "Don't even tell me."
"Come on," Castle pleaded, "we hardly ever get two cases at once."
"Whatever," Beckett said nonplused as she filled her cup with coffee. "Just as long as the wager doesn't involve head-shaving this time."
"Huh," Esposito huffed. "We actually hadn't gotten that far yet."
"We'll want higher stakes," his partner pointed out. "More money?"
"No, higher than that," Castle said, making a face. "It's gotta be something really good."
As the boys were thinking, Beckett's desk phone rang. "That's probably Lanie," she said, fumbling with the sugar and cream. "Castle, do you want to make yourself useful and get that?"
"Yes, boss," he said, pulling his feet off the desk and rolling the chair closer to grab the phone. "Hello, twelfth precinct, you've reached Detective Katherine Beckett's phone, this Castle speaking, how may I direct your call?"
"Uh, right," came Lanie's voice on the other end. "I've got a C.O.D. for Tim Gardens. Can you put Beckett on?"
"Yeah, in a minute," Castle dismissed her impatiently. "Listen, we've got a bet on who can solve their murder first."
Lanie laughed. "You're kidding me."
"Not so much. Anyway, we're trying to come up with a good wager. Something big. Any ideas?"
Ryan and Esposito exchanged eye rolls and smirks while Castle bobbed his head. "Uh huh," he was saying. "Uh hu-ooh. Ooh, now that would make things very, very interesting, indeed. Great idea, Lanes."
He dropped the phone down to his shoulder and covered the mouthpiece with the other hand, grinning like a Cheshire cat at the boys, who looked eager.
"Well?"
"What'd she say?"
"No money on this one," Castle said. "Instead, we take on the ultimate wager. A kiss. Losers have to pucker up."
Beckett snatched the phone from Castle. "Hey, it's me. What do you have for me?" She walked the phone away from the desk as far as the cord would allow.
Ryan and Esposito exchanged incredulous looks. "You're kidding me?"
"Why do people keep asking me that?" Castle wondered. "Hey, this bet is a win-win for me."
"All right; you're on."
"What?" Ryan squeaked at his partner.
"Come on, bro," Esposito said, throwing his coat around his shoulders like a cape. "We got this one, anyway."
"Yeah," Castle egged on. "If you're so sure you've got what it takes, what've you got to lose?"
"Fine," Ryan said, placing his now empty coffee mug on Beckett's desk and grabbing his coat. "Fine, but be prepared to kiss that girl, Castle, because we intend to win."
"Whatever you say, Honey Milk."
As the boys headed out, Beckett returned to her desk with the phone. "Great, thanks for the info, Dr. Parish. And for giving me strong incentive to close this case as soon as possible." She grinned wickedly at Castle as she hung up the phone. "Blunt force trauma," she said in response to the question unasked on Castle's face. "Ready to canvas?"
"Do I have time to grab some coffee?" he asked, obviously stalling.
She handed over her mug. "Here you go. I don't need it. I'm awake now."
When Castle and Beckett arrived at Sally's Sweet Tooth, CSU was just wrapping up in the alley. Beckett was eager to talk to the owner of the shop. Castle was being characteristically and excessively chatty on the way in.
"What's a single guy with no children doing at a candy shop? And more importantly, who kills a man for doing so? Maybe it was his dentist?"
"Castle, best behavior." Beckett flashed her badge at the harassed-looking woman in front of the counter. If anything, she looked even less thrilled at the sight of the detective.
"Do you know how bad this is for business?" the woman snapped. "Dead customer in the alley, police swarming all around my store."
"Mrs.-"
"Stuart. Sally Stuart. And it's Ms."
"Ms. Stuart," Beckett began carefully, "I'm Detective Kate Beckett with the NYPD. Can you tell me what time your store closed last night and who closed up?"
"Midnight, and I closed it myself."
"Isn't that a little late for a candy shop to be open?" Castle interjected curiously.
"Not when you're losing to every other damn business in the city," she retorted.
"Did you have any major competitors?" he asked. "Maybe any particularly heated rivalries?"
"Sure," she said flatly. "The Chocolate Haven, two blocks away. They opened up six months ago, and they've been driving my business into the ground ever since."
"And how long has your business been around, Ms. Stuart?"
"Twenty-three years," she said, sounding proud but wounded.
"Did you know the victim, Timothy Gardens?" Beckett asked.
"He came into my store about a week ago. Said he worked for a local printer. He's got some beef with Harry-the owner of the Chocolate Haven-" she added when Beckett looked curious, "and he wanted to help me crush them. Said he'd could print me three-hundred fliers, free of charge. I figured, why the hell not?"
Beckett collected the name and address of the printing company and, with a quick thanks to the storeowner, pried a wide-eyed Castle away from the flavor-changing bubblegum displays.
Ryan and Esposito were making slow progress with their case. A quick interrogation of the campground owners led them to a Bryan Geller, the young man who rented the campsite before the Prestons. He didn't even know she was dead until the detectives showed up.
"It was my graduation party," he told the detectives distantly. "Maddie was one of my closest friends. We both graduated with political science B.A.s from Pace about a week ago."
"Did you notice anything strange about her behavior last night?" Ryan asked.
"No, she seemed fine," Bryan said. "A little distracted, but we've all been kind of shell-shocked since grad. Don't really know what to do with the rest of our lives, you know?"
"Do you know if she had any enemies?" Esposito pressed. "Anyone she didn't get along with?"
"Actually," Bryan recalled, suddenly looking a little sick, "now that you mention it, she did get into...okay, it wasn't really a fight, but... I don't know, she and her new boyfriend sort of stalked off at some point. Neither of them looked too happy."
"Do you know what they were talking about?"
"You'd have to ask him," the boy said. "His name is James Norway. I...don't know where he lives, but you could probably call the university. He was a year behind us."
Lanie called Ryan's cell while they were interviewing Bryan to give them the timeframe for the murder-somewhere between one and three in the morning. The young graduate told the detectives he was out drinking with a few of his buddies from the party until about three thirty. He claimed that Madelyn was welcome to join them, but she turned down the invitation. Ryan called the drinking buddies as well as the pub they claimed to patronize while Esposito drove them to the Norway residence. His alibi checked out free and clear.
The Norways lived in a luxurious two-floor apartment in Queens. James answered the door himself and welcomed the detectives into their home. He didn't seem like a boyfriend in mourning.
"Sorry for the mess," he apologized as he led them into their living space. There were stacks of moving boxes scattered throughout the room. "It's been a little hectic since the end of the semester."
"We understand that you and Ms. Wentwood got into an argument last night at Bryan Geller's graduation party?" Ryan asked, perching carefully on the armrest of a recliner chair in which his partner sat.
"Look," James said, "it was nothing, all right? She told me she'd hooked up with some guy from her economics class."
"And that's 'nothing'?" Ryan asked skeptically.
"It was before we started dating."
"And when was that?" Esposito pressed.
"She hooked up with this guy at the end of May. She and I started dating the first week in June."
"Does 'this guy' have a name?"
"Carl. Carl, uh... something with a P. Paskie or something."
"Could you please tell us where you were this morning between one and three?"
"Sure," James said. "I left the campsite early and came home around midnight. You can ask my parents."
"And where are they now?"
"Both at work, but I can get you their cell numbers. One sec."
He pulled his own iPhone out of his back pocket. The wallpaper on his phone showed James and Maddie smiling at the camera, obviously held at a high point by one of the two. It was a little off center.
James jotted down the numbers on a piece of paper and handed it to the detectives.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Norway," Esposito said, standing up from the recliner. Ryan slid off the armrest to stand next to his partner. "If you remember anything else that you'd like to tell us, please give us a call at any time."
"And what are your names?" the boy asked.
"I'm Detective Javier Esposito, and this is my partner, Detective Kevin Ry-"
He didn't finish because James burst out laughing.
"No way," he laughed under his breath. "No way. Oh, stay right here." He jogged a few steps towards their staircase and hollered up. "Brit! Brit, get down here; you're not even going to believe who I'm talking to!"
"What?" they heard a teenage girl's voice shout back.
"Guess who's standing in our living room?"
"Who?"
"Roach."
"SHUT UP."
There was a loud clatter and then the echoing sound of bare feet pounding against the linoleum floors. Ryan's bright blue eyes went wide and Esposito's jaw fell open slightly as the excited girl came barreling down the stairs. She stopped at the bottom, her head whipped back and forth between the two detectives, and she let out a glass-shattering shriek.
"Oh my god, are you really Raley and Ochoa?" she asked breathlessly.
"Uh, well actually, my name is Detective Ryan," the slightly flustered man said, holding out his hand in greeting. "And this is my partner, Detective Esposito."
The girl seemed to swoon, clutching the banister with one hand and throwing the back of the other hand into her brother's chest. "His partner," she whispered to him giddily. She could barely contain her excitement as she rushed forward to grab Ryan's outstretched hand. Esposito chuckled.
"Fan of Richard Castle's?" he asked, though it wasn't really necessary.
"I've been reading his books since I was four," she squeaked, still vigorously shaking Ryan's hand with both of hers. "Oh, well my mom read them to me until I was nine," she added when the boys looked flabbergasted that a four-year-old was reading raunchy murder mysteries. She suddenly yanked Ryan's hand to pull his face closer to hers. "I thought it was so sweet," she gasped, "in chapter eight of Heat Wave, when Roach spoke in unison, and then Ochoa said, 'See? I can't say mad at you.'"
"Did he?" Ryan said, taken quite aback by her apparent encyclopedic knowledge of the book. He had read Heat Wave three times himself, and he couldn't even remember that detail.
"Look, Kev, someone who's a bigger fan of Castle's books than you are," Esposito ribbed. The girl sucked in her bottom lip and made a high-pitched noise at the back of her throat, dropping the detective's hand to clutch the sides of her face.
"He calls him Kev!" she squealed over her shoulder to her brother, who looked like he was never going to let his sister live this down.
"You know," he said to the detectives, stepping forward and putting his hands in his back pockets, "Brittany here writes Roach slash-fic."
The girl looked like she'd been hit by a truck.
"NO, I DON'T. SHUT UP, JIM."
"What's...slash-fic?" Esposito asked, but his partner was beginning to look feverish.
"Fans of the book write their own little spin-off stories," James explained. "Most of them involve romance. At least, all of Brit's do."
"JIM!" Brittany screeched, turning redder by the second.
"You should show them," he teased. "I'm sure they'd find it fascinating."
"Wait, romance?" Esposito interrupted. "You mean, between-?"
Brittany wailed shrilly and started beating her brother with tight fists. He was cracking up. "Hey, I'm just trying to be honest with these nice detectives," he laughed. "You know you should never lie to the cops, Brit." At this point, the girl was digging her sharp nails into her brother's shirt like a cat clawing at the couch.
"Well," Esposito said loudly over the guttural sounds of anger and humiliation spilling out of the teenage girl's mouth, "my very pink friend here and I should get going. It was nice meeting you both. Thanks for your help with the case, and, uh..." he tapped the girl on the shoulder, who quit thrashing long enough to look up at the detective, "I'll tell Castle you said what's up." Ryan was already ten paces back and fumbling for the doorknob.
As Esposito stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him, the muffled sounds of two fists beating flesh resumed. "Should we call for back up?" he joked as they heard a moving box crash to the floor. "We don't want to have to deal with a third murder case today."
Ryan's face was bright red. He looked at his partner and said nothing. "Yeah, I know," Esposito muttered, shaking his head. "Don't tell Castle."
Castle and Beckett returned to the precinct a few hours later. Their interrogation of Harry Vander was less than fruitful. He denied even knowing the victim, and his alibi that he was home two hours before the murder took place checked out with the doorman at his building. They had also interrogated Troy Holcomb, the owner of the print shop. He knew nothing about Tim's deal with Sally for free fliers, nor his alleged "beef" with Harry Vander. Troy Holcomb's MTA ticket from Stamford confirmed that he was en route to the city when Tim Gardens was murdered sometime between five and six in the morning. Neither Castle nor Beckett was willing to admit to the boys that they had zero leads.
"I'm telling you," Castle was saying as they stepped off the elevator, "Sally Stuart killed him."
"What?" Beckett laughed. "You heard her saying how bad this publicity was for her business."
"But think about what a great story it makes." He was practically foaming at the mouth with excitement. "It looks bad for her, so that brings the heat down on the competition. Maybe Harry gets arrested, or his business shut down. That works for her."
"What I don't get," Beckett interrupted, clearly not listening to Castle, "is how does a store six months old do better than the one that's been around over two decades?"
"Hmm," Castle responded. "Maybe we should find out what happened when Harry met Sally."
As they rounded the corner, Castle noticed Ryan on his computer. He snuck up behind him and practically rested his chin on Ryan's shoulder.
"Whatcha doing?"
Ryan jumped a foot out of his chair and quickly switched tabs. "Nothing."
"Wait a minute," Castle said. "Go back. What was that?"
"What was what?"
"That page you were just on," Castle said, pointing at the screen. "It said Roach at the top."
"No, it didn't."
"Yeah, it did," he protested, "and there was a huge picture of Heat Wave. I just saw it."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ryan said, but his face was starting to burn again. Castle looked at the title on the browser's tab.
"Roach fic-a-thon?" he asked. "What's a fic-a-thon?"
Esposito leapt up from his desk and power-walked over to Ryan's desk. "What's going on?" he asked.
"Ryan's on some Heat Wave fan site," Castle said, "but he won't show me what it is."
"It's nothing," Ryan croaked, his voice high and scratchy. "We're just following up on a lead from our case, that's all."
"A lead that has to do with Heat Wave?" Castle asked.
"Oh, why, Castle?" Esposito interrupted. "Did you want to help us? Because remember, that would count as a win for us."
"Hell no," the writer said, suddenly standing up straight. "You boys keep on that. I'm sure you're hot on the trail," he said sardonically, walking away. "We're doing just fine with our case, thank you very much," his voice trailed off as he rounded the corner out of the room.
"Well, that was close," Ryan mumbled.
"Bro, what the hell are you doing?" Esposito leaned over his partner to grab the mouse and close the browser window.
"What? Aren't you curious to know what people are writing about us?"
"It's not us, man," Esposito said. "You are not Raley, and I am not Ochoa."
"I know," he responded, "but, I mean, come on. They're basically us."
There was something about the way Ryan said "us" that made Esposito's stomach lurch. "Look," he said, pointing at the computer, "let's just please focus on solving our case before those fictions turn into reality, okay?" He pulled a hand down his face and sighed. "I just spoke with both of James's parents. They both confirmed his alibi." He held out a piece of paper with a name scribbled on it. "I just got off the phone with the university. There was a Carl Paseiko in the same economics class as Madelyn last semester. That must be the guy Norway was talking about."
"Got an address?" Ryan asked.
"I'll drive."
The ride to the upper west side was dead silent except for the occasional clicking noise Ryan made with his tongue and Esposito's drumming on the steering wheel at stoplights. The midday traffic made the ride longer than either one could stand.
The Paseikos' apartment was significantly less impressive than the Norways'. It was six floors up and not much more than a hole in the wall. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, a tiny kitchen, and six square feet of living space. How five people lived in this place was mind-boggling.
Carl looked pale and tired. The boys offered to drive him down to the station to talk, but he offered them his tiny couch instead and sat in a collapsible tin chair opposite. Ryan and Esposito were uncomfortably cramped.
"We had a few classes together," Carl said, sounding as drained as he looked. "And yeah, we hooked up a little more than a month ago."
"Was it anything serious?" Ryan asked as gently as he could manage.
"We were partners," he said, "on a few projects. I guess you don't really realize it, when you work that closely with someone, just how much you care for them."
Esposito fidgeted awkwardly. Ryan pretended not to notice.
"Ahem. Could you please tell us your whereabouts the time of the murder?" Esposito asked. Carl scoffed softly, singed by Esposito's lack of delicacy.
"And when was that?" he asked.
"Between one and three."
"I was here," the boy said curtly. "Sleeping."
"Can anyone verify that?"
"Sure. Both my brothers and my dad were here, playing Madden until about four in the morning." He pointed to the video game system in the corner, tucked under a tiny television.
Ryan's phone buzzed in his pocket, pressed against Esposito's thigh. Unsure whose it was, they both reached for it, touched hands, and then quickly pulled back.
"I think that's you," Esposito said, grateful that his slightly darker skin hardly blushed. Ryan leapt up from the couch to take the call in the hallway.
"Did you notice anything strange at the party last night?" Esposito continued in Ryan's absence.
"Party?" Carl asked. "What party?"
"Bryan Geller's graduation party."
"I wasn't invited."
"You weren't?"
"Geller and I weren't really close," he said. "We were both good friends with Maddie, but..."
"But what?"
"He didn't approve." Carl looked desperately like he wanted to stay vague, but Esposito looked unhappy with his answer. Carl sighed. "He didn't approve when Maddie and I hooked up."
"And why was that?"
"Because I have a girlfriend."
Ryan came back into the room, looking very eager. "That was Lanie," he said. "She, uh, she found something very interesting. Can I talk to you out here?" he asked, nodding toward the hallway.
"Sure," Esposito said. "Excuse us one moment." He followed his partner out into the hall and closed the door behind them. "What's going on?"
"Madelyn," Ryan returned. "She was six weeks pregnant."
"You're kidding."
Ryan shook his head. The both looked back at the apartment door.
"If Carl has a girlfriend," Esposito pointed out, "and he knocked up some other girl..."
"He would need to keep that quiet," Ryan finished, "before his girlfriend found out."
Beckett sat perched on the edge of her desk, gazing helplessly at her murder board. "We've got no suspects," she sighed, running a hand through her poker-straight hair, "no murder weapon, and no chance of winning this thing."
In her peripherals she saw Castle pull out a small breath spray from the inside of his jacked and poise it at his open mouth. Without tearing her eyes from the board, she smacked it out of his hands. It clattered to the floor at Ryan's feet as he and Esposito stepped into the room, a handcuffed Carl Paseiko in tow. Beckett leapt up from her desk at the sight of them.
"Excuse us," Ryan said as he and Esposito lead their suspect to the interrogation room. Beckett looked panicked while Castle looked like he couldn't decide if he was devastated or thrilled. The two of them raced into the observation room to watch through the glass.
"This is ridiculous," Carl said as Esposito pushed him gently into the chair. "I told you I was home."
"And if you're alibi checks," Ryan said, "you'll be free to go. Until then, we have a few more questions for you."
"Look, I had no idea Maddie was pregnant," Carl said for the twelfth time. "And if I did, I certainly wouldn't have killed her while she was carrying my child!"
"Your girlfriend know about this?" Esposito asked. The kid closed his eyes.
"Rachel doesn't know anything about this, so please, please don't tell her. We've been having some troubles lately, and this is the last thing-"
"Is that why you cheated on her?" Ryan asked. He sounded personally affronted.
"Yes," Carl said calmly, "it's true. We've been having troubles for a while. Sleeping with Maddie was a mistake, and we agreed it was best not to tell anyone."
"She told her boyfriend," Esposito pointed out.
"What?" Carl said, sitting forward. "Jim knows?"
"He and Maddie were arguing about it last night."
"Well, then why don't you go interrogate him?" Carl snapped. "He'd have more reason to kill her than I would!"
"James has a solid alibi."
"Well, so do I," Carl said. "If you don't believe me, call my father. He's also my lawyer."
Carl's alibi checked out, leaving Ryan and Esposito desperate for a new lead. They decided to split up to tackle different hunches. Ryan wanted to speak to Maddie's family, and Esposito decided to talk with her advisor at Pace. Esposito returned to the precinct first, utterly defeated.
Meanwhile, Beckett dove into every aspect of Tim Gardens's life-his finances, his family, his personal relationships. The man was a saint, and even Castle couldn't write a brilliant story that would explain why anyone would want him dead.
It wasn't until the late evening that Beckett was finally onto something. She and Castle had already interrogated Tim Gardens's boss, Troy Holcomb, in person, but he called again that evening. A black Cadillac with tinted windows had driven by his print shop three times in the last hour. The third time, he got the plates. When Beckett ran them through the system, it was registered to an Antonio Vitale.
"Tony Vitale?" Castle asked, looking over her shoulder. "He's a crime lord."
"We're on our way, Mr. Holcomb," Beckett said over the phone. Esposito and Montgomery, who had raided the downstairs vending machine for chips and energy bars, returned just in time to see Beckett and Castle throwing on their bullet-proof vests.
"What's going on?" Montgomery asked. Esposito looked worried.
"We've got a lead on the Gardens case," Beckett said, securing the Velcro. "Looks like it may have been a mob hit."
Just then, the elevator doors swung open, and Ryan came jogging into the room. "Esposito, you're not going to believe this," he said, pulling his partner off to the side. "I was just talking to Maddie's family. They let me use her computer so I could check her Facebook inbox and sent folder. She sent Carl a message two days ago telling him about the baby."
Esposito's brow furrowed. "But, his alibi-"
"I know," Ryan said. "So I spoke to him again. He claims he never got the message, but he says that his girlfriend, Rachel Bolton? She has his log-in information."
"Let's pick her up," Esposito said.
"Not so fast," Montgomery interrupted. "Beckett needs back-up. I want you two to follow her out."
The boys shared terrified looks. "No way," Ryan said. "We're not helping them close their case first."
"Excuse me?"
Esposito glared at Ryan. The captain didn't know about the bet, and they weren't about to admit to it. "Sir, we just-"
"I'm aware, detectives," Montgomery interrupted. "But your jealous girlfriend lead can wait. Because around here, when our detectives need back up, we back them up. Now get your asses in the car."
Beckett was positively giddy as Montgomery stalked away, leaving Ryan and Esposito to look utterly defeated. "Come on, boys," she said. "We got a murderer to catch."
Beckett called Lanie from the car to update her on the investigation. "With any luck," Beckett said, "we'll have this guy in custody within the hour. Meet us at the station. You won't want to miss it."
Beckett and the boys parked about a block away from the print shop. They split up and took different paths to look for the Cadillac. Beckett and Castle found it behind the print shop, deserted. Beckett heard a shot and whirled around, her own gun pointed straight ahead, just in time to see a shadow slump down to the ground and hear the sound of metal skittering across the blacktop. Esposito stood on the other side, smoke billowing out of the barrel of his shotgun.
"He pulled a gun on you," Esposito said, nodding to a piece of silver on the ground, glinting from the dim streetlight. Ryan was already on his knees, handcuffing the mobster where he lay. "Obviously he didn't see us hiding behind the dumpster."
Tony didn't talk in the interrogation. He didn't have to. When Beckett checked the records at the police station, there had been a complaint filed against Mr. Vitale by Harry Vander not two weeks ago. With Vitale in lock up, Harry Vander gave his written statement about his lifelong rivalry with the Vitale family. This time, when asked how he knew Tim Gardens, Vander admitted that they used to be best friends until he stole Tim's girlfriend.
"That was twenty years ago," Vander said. "He never got over it."
"When Vitale got wind of Gardens's beef with Vander," Beckett told Montgomery, "they killed him to try to bring the heat down on Vander. Stashing him behind Sally's Sweet Tooth made Vander look that much guiltier."
"Good work," Montgomery said. "You, too," he nodded and Esposito and Ryan. They forced smiles as the captain headed back to his office.
Beckett turned to the boys, grinning widely. "I believe this makes us the winners," she said, waving Lanie and Castle over.
"No way," Esposito said. "We would have won if Montgomery hadn't stuck us on your case."
"What is it you said?" Castle asked, appearing at Ryan's shoulder. "If you help the other team, they still get the glory?"
Ryan groaned.
Lanie and Beckett stood side-by-side, leaning against her desk. Both were giggling like schoolgirls. "A deal's a deal," the coroner sniggered, folding her arms expectantly. "I am so tweeting about this later."
Castle grabbed each of the boys by the shoulder and turned them toward each other. Beckett dug her camera phone out of her pocket and held it up. "I think this is going to be the cover of 12th's Christmas card."
Ryan closed his eyes and puckered his lips. Esposito jumped back. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked. Ryan opened an eyelid.
"What? Guys don't do this when they kiss?"
"How should I know?" Esposito snapped. "You're the one reading slash-fic."
"All right," Castle said impatiently, "stop being such girls and just do it already."
"You are so dead, Parish," Esposito mumbled deadpan. She flashed him her best smile.
"Hey, I was rooting for you two to win," she snorted. Slighted, Beckett nudged her friend in the ribs.
"Gee, thanks, Lanie."
"Girl, please."
"You two are next," Castle said, wagging a finger between the two ladies. "Oh, just do it, Honey Milk," Castle teased as he plopped ceremoniously into Beckett's chair, "I promise I won't tell Jenny."
"Let's just get this over with," Ryan muttered so that only Esposito could hear him. "Come on, we'll laugh about it later."
The boys swayed uneasily, neither one wanting to make the first move. While they were making awkward kissy faces at each other, Castle looked over at Beckett. "Ready?" he mouthed silently. She nodded eagerly and held her phone up higher, her finger at the ready on the snap button. With one quick motion, Castle nudged Esposito sharply between the shoulder blades, knocking him lips-first into his partner.
They stumbled, arms flailing to regain their balance; they wound up in an awkward-looking hug, lips still mashed together. They pulled apart, neither one brave enough to look at the other. If Ryan was red before, it was nothing compared to the deep color of embarrassment he sported on his cheeks now. Even Esposito looked pinker than usual.
Beckett and Lanie were laughing so hard, they were clutching each other for support. Castle was already out of the chair and on the ground.
"Did you get a good picture?" Lanie asked.
"I got three!"
By the time the three of them calmed down long enough to look up, the boys were gone.
"Oh, where'd they go?" Lanie asked, a hint of a laugh still pushing her words.
"To finish what they started?" Castle suggested, and the girls roared louder with laughter.
"I'm sure they just left to close their case," Beckett offered.
Castle picked himself up and approached Lanie. "Well," he said offering his right hand, "I've got to thank you, Lanes, for giving me a fabulous scene to write into my next book."
"It was my pleasure," Lanie grinned, shaking Castle's hand. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have got a tall glass of wine at home with my name on it."
"See you, Lanie," Beckett said, her laughter dying slowly. "You know, I really should thank Esposito," she said to Castle when Lanie was out of ear shot. "He helped me dodge two bullets tonight."
"Ouch," Castle said, holding a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "Admit it, it wouldn't have been so bad if we'd lost."
"Nope," Beckett said, hopping off her desk and grabbing her empty coffee mug. "This outcome was much better."
"I guess next time, I'll just have to undermine you every step of the way," Castle said.
"How is that any different from what you normally do?"
"Har har," he hummed. "It's getting late. You want to share a cab?"
"Oh, no thanks," Beckett said, holding up the mug. "I'm going to fill up before I go. It's been long day, and I've got paperwork to finish on this damn mess."
"Suit yourself," Castle said. "If you do thank Esposito, give him a goodbye kiss for me, will you?"
"Oh, why bother, when I can just make Ryan do it?" she snickered. Castle laughed heartily and wished her a good night.
Beckett looked at the photos on her phone and laughed. She thought about calling Troy Holcomb and asking for a print job favor. Smiling to herself, she flipped her phone closed with one hand and stuck it in her back pocket. Still clutching her mug in the other hand, she headed for the break room.
She dropped the mug with a shriek as soon as she hit the doorway. It broke into forty pieces, half of which skidded across the wood floor and landed by the tangled feet of two very guilty looking detectives. Esposito shoved Ryan hastily, their lips making a loud suction noise as they pulled apart.
Beckett gasped, looking as though she'd just stumbled upon her own surprise birthday party. Ryan spluttered, unable to justify what she had just walked in on. The three of them stared at each other for what seemed like a never-ending awkward silence before Esposito finally cleared his throat and addressed the shock-faced detective in the high heels.
"Just-ahem-please don't tell Castle."
Title: Double Down and Dirty
Author: michygeary
Characters/pairings: Ryan/Esposito, Castle/Beckett
Rating/Warnings: Somewhere between PG and PG-13.
Spoilers: Up through 202 "The Double Down."
Word Count: 5,940
Summary: When two fresh murders crop up at the same time, Castle challenges Ryan and Esposito to another bet--this time, with much higher stakes.
Author's Note: I usually don't like when people take something that happened on the show and repeat it in a fan-fiction. And I realize that's kind of the premise for my story. But I promise some fun stuff beyond that: stuff which, I assure you, hasn't happened on the show. =D
It had been almost a year since the crew had bet on the Hudson River cases, which resulted in its ambiguous dénouement. In that time there had been no opportunity for the crew to pit their crime-sniffing talents against each other, as their cases typically came in one and a time. But finally, one weary Tuesday morning when even the sun was sleeping in with most of New York, two very strange but very different murder cases came to the detectives of the twelfth precinct.
The first was forty-eight-year-old Timothy Gardens, found in the alley behind a candy shop. Like clockwork the second body, twenty-two-year-old Madelyn Wentwood, dropped at a campsite when the Preston family arrived for their daughter's fifth birthday party.
And Castle just couldn't resist.
"Come on," he whined, "it'll be a great way to settle this once and for all."
"Settle what?" Ryan sighed, monitoring the steady stream of Espresso as it fell from the nozzle and into his mug.
"That Beckett and I are better crime-solvers than you two."
"Whoaaaa," Esposito said, holding a hand up. "Let's not forget who won the last bet."
"Yeah, we smoked you guys," Ryan added, stirring his foam carefully.
"Hey," Castle protested, pointing at the two of them, "we never agreed on that."
"What's to agree on?" Esposito asked. "The degree to which we smoked you?" Ryan gave an appreciative laugh as he sipped his coffee.
"I'm just saying, it got a little hazy at the end," the writer argued, though the other boys were shaking their heads and scoffing. "This would be a way to know for sure. Or are you girls afraid you'll lose again?"
That got their attention.
"Dibs on the campsite case," Ryan said immediately.
"Yeah, you can have Sally's Sweet Tooth."
"Deal."
"We should probably establish some ground rules."
Castle leaned back in Beckett's chair and put his feet up on her desk. "Like what?"
"Like," Esposito said, "no solving each other's cases."
"Yeah, that's what got us into trouble last time," Ryan said. "If you help the other team, they still get the glory."
"Works for me," Castle said. "I don't plan on helping you boys win again."
"So we're agreed?" Ryan said. "A win for us means closing the Wentwood case first, and a win for you and Beckett means closing the Gardens case first."
"Agreed."
Beckett walked in just as the boys were shaking on it. Spying them, she stopped, her empty coffee mug sandwiched between her palms, and sighed. "Don't even tell me."
"Come on," Castle pleaded, "we hardly ever get two cases at once."
"Whatever," Beckett said nonplused as she filled her cup with coffee. "Just as long as the wager doesn't involve head-shaving this time."
"Huh," Esposito huffed. "We actually hadn't gotten that far yet."
"We'll want higher stakes," his partner pointed out. "More money?"
"No, higher than that," Castle said, making a face. "It's gotta be something really good."
As the boys were thinking, Beckett's desk phone rang. "That's probably Lanie," she said, fumbling with the sugar and cream. "Castle, do you want to make yourself useful and get that?"
"Yes, boss," he said, pulling his feet off the desk and rolling the chair closer to grab the phone. "Hello, twelfth precinct, you've reached Detective Katherine Beckett's phone, this Castle speaking, how may I direct your call?"
"Uh, right," came Lanie's voice on the other end. "I've got a C.O.D. for Tim Gardens. Can you put Beckett on?"
"Yeah, in a minute," Castle dismissed her impatiently. "Listen, we've got a bet on who can solve their murder first."
Lanie laughed. "You're kidding me."
"Not so much. Anyway, we're trying to come up with a good wager. Something big. Any ideas?"
Ryan and Esposito exchanged eye rolls and smirks while Castle bobbed his head. "Uh huh," he was saying. "Uh hu-ooh. Ooh, now that would make things very, very interesting, indeed. Great idea, Lanes."
He dropped the phone down to his shoulder and covered the mouthpiece with the other hand, grinning like a Cheshire cat at the boys, who looked eager.
"Well?"
"What'd she say?"
"No money on this one," Castle said. "Instead, we take on the ultimate wager. A kiss. Losers have to pucker up."
Beckett snatched the phone from Castle. "Hey, it's me. What do you have for me?" She walked the phone away from the desk as far as the cord would allow.
Ryan and Esposito exchanged incredulous looks. "You're kidding me?"
"Why do people keep asking me that?" Castle wondered. "Hey, this bet is a win-win for me."
"All right; you're on."
"What?" Ryan squeaked at his partner.
"Come on, bro," Esposito said, throwing his coat around his shoulders like a cape. "We got this one, anyway."
"Yeah," Castle egged on. "If you're so sure you've got what it takes, what've you got to lose?"
"Fine," Ryan said, placing his now empty coffee mug on Beckett's desk and grabbing his coat. "Fine, but be prepared to kiss that girl, Castle, because we intend to win."
"Whatever you say, Honey Milk."
As the boys headed out, Beckett returned to her desk with the phone. "Great, thanks for the info, Dr. Parish. And for giving me strong incentive to close this case as soon as possible." She grinned wickedly at Castle as she hung up the phone. "Blunt force trauma," she said in response to the question unasked on Castle's face. "Ready to canvas?"
"Do I have time to grab some coffee?" he asked, obviously stalling.
She handed over her mug. "Here you go. I don't need it. I'm awake now."
When Castle and Beckett arrived at Sally's Sweet Tooth, CSU was just wrapping up in the alley. Beckett was eager to talk to the owner of the shop. Castle was being characteristically and excessively chatty on the way in.
"What's a single guy with no children doing at a candy shop? And more importantly, who kills a man for doing so? Maybe it was his dentist?"
"Castle, best behavior." Beckett flashed her badge at the harassed-looking woman in front of the counter. If anything, she looked even less thrilled at the sight of the detective.
"Do you know how bad this is for business?" the woman snapped. "Dead customer in the alley, police swarming all around my store."
"Mrs.-"
"Stuart. Sally Stuart. And it's Ms."
"Ms. Stuart," Beckett began carefully, "I'm Detective Kate Beckett with the NYPD. Can you tell me what time your store closed last night and who closed up?"
"Midnight, and I closed it myself."
"Isn't that a little late for a candy shop to be open?" Castle interjected curiously.
"Not when you're losing to every other damn business in the city," she retorted.
"Did you have any major competitors?" he asked. "Maybe any particularly heated rivalries?"
"Sure," she said flatly. "The Chocolate Haven, two blocks away. They opened up six months ago, and they've been driving my business into the ground ever since."
"And how long has your business been around, Ms. Stuart?"
"Twenty-three years," she said, sounding proud but wounded.
"Did you know the victim, Timothy Gardens?" Beckett asked.
"He came into my store about a week ago. Said he worked for a local printer. He's got some beef with Harry-the owner of the Chocolate Haven-" she added when Beckett looked curious, "and he wanted to help me crush them. Said he'd could print me three-hundred fliers, free of charge. I figured, why the hell not?"
Beckett collected the name and address of the printing company and, with a quick thanks to the storeowner, pried a wide-eyed Castle away from the flavor-changing bubblegum displays.
Ryan and Esposito were making slow progress with their case. A quick interrogation of the campground owners led them to a Bryan Geller, the young man who rented the campsite before the Prestons. He didn't even know she was dead until the detectives showed up.
"It was my graduation party," he told the detectives distantly. "Maddie was one of my closest friends. We both graduated with political science B.A.s from Pace about a week ago."
"Did you notice anything strange about her behavior last night?" Ryan asked.
"No, she seemed fine," Bryan said. "A little distracted, but we've all been kind of shell-shocked since grad. Don't really know what to do with the rest of our lives, you know?"
"Do you know if she had any enemies?" Esposito pressed. "Anyone she didn't get along with?"
"Actually," Bryan recalled, suddenly looking a little sick, "now that you mention it, she did get into...okay, it wasn't really a fight, but... I don't know, she and her new boyfriend sort of stalked off at some point. Neither of them looked too happy."
"Do you know what they were talking about?"
"You'd have to ask him," the boy said. "His name is James Norway. I...don't know where he lives, but you could probably call the university. He was a year behind us."
Lanie called Ryan's cell while they were interviewing Bryan to give them the timeframe for the murder-somewhere between one and three in the morning. The young graduate told the detectives he was out drinking with a few of his buddies from the party until about three thirty. He claimed that Madelyn was welcome to join them, but she turned down the invitation. Ryan called the drinking buddies as well as the pub they claimed to patronize while Esposito drove them to the Norway residence. His alibi checked out free and clear.
The Norways lived in a luxurious two-floor apartment in Queens. James answered the door himself and welcomed the detectives into their home. He didn't seem like a boyfriend in mourning.
"Sorry for the mess," he apologized as he led them into their living space. There were stacks of moving boxes scattered throughout the room. "It's been a little hectic since the end of the semester."
"We understand that you and Ms. Wentwood got into an argument last night at Bryan Geller's graduation party?" Ryan asked, perching carefully on the armrest of a recliner chair in which his partner sat.
"Look," James said, "it was nothing, all right? She told me she'd hooked up with some guy from her economics class."
"And that's 'nothing'?" Ryan asked skeptically.
"It was before we started dating."
"And when was that?" Esposito pressed.
"She hooked up with this guy at the end of May. She and I started dating the first week in June."
"Does 'this guy' have a name?"
"Carl. Carl, uh... something with a P. Paskie or something."
"Could you please tell us where you were this morning between one and three?"
"Sure," James said. "I left the campsite early and came home around midnight. You can ask my parents."
"And where are they now?"
"Both at work, but I can get you their cell numbers. One sec."
He pulled his own iPhone out of his back pocket. The wallpaper on his phone showed James and Maddie smiling at the camera, obviously held at a high point by one of the two. It was a little off center.
James jotted down the numbers on a piece of paper and handed it to the detectives.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Norway," Esposito said, standing up from the recliner. Ryan slid off the armrest to stand next to his partner. "If you remember anything else that you'd like to tell us, please give us a call at any time."
"And what are your names?" the boy asked.
"I'm Detective Javier Esposito, and this is my partner, Detective Kevin Ry-"
He didn't finish because James burst out laughing.
"No way," he laughed under his breath. "No way. Oh, stay right here." He jogged a few steps towards their staircase and hollered up. "Brit! Brit, get down here; you're not even going to believe who I'm talking to!"
"What?" they heard a teenage girl's voice shout back.
"Guess who's standing in our living room?"
"Who?"
"Roach."
"SHUT UP."
There was a loud clatter and then the echoing sound of bare feet pounding against the linoleum floors. Ryan's bright blue eyes went wide and Esposito's jaw fell open slightly as the excited girl came barreling down the stairs. She stopped at the bottom, her head whipped back and forth between the two detectives, and she let out a glass-shattering shriek.
"Oh my god, are you really Raley and Ochoa?" she asked breathlessly.
"Uh, well actually, my name is Detective Ryan," the slightly flustered man said, holding out his hand in greeting. "And this is my partner, Detective Esposito."
The girl seemed to swoon, clutching the banister with one hand and throwing the back of the other hand into her brother's chest. "His partner," she whispered to him giddily. She could barely contain her excitement as she rushed forward to grab Ryan's outstretched hand. Esposito chuckled.
"Fan of Richard Castle's?" he asked, though it wasn't really necessary.
"I've been reading his books since I was four," she squeaked, still vigorously shaking Ryan's hand with both of hers. "Oh, well my mom read them to me until I was nine," she added when the boys looked flabbergasted that a four-year-old was reading raunchy murder mysteries. She suddenly yanked Ryan's hand to pull his face closer to hers. "I thought it was so sweet," she gasped, "in chapter eight of Heat Wave, when Roach spoke in unison, and then Ochoa said, 'See? I can't say mad at you.'"
"Did he?" Ryan said, taken quite aback by her apparent encyclopedic knowledge of the book. He had read Heat Wave three times himself, and he couldn't even remember that detail.
"Look, Kev, someone who's a bigger fan of Castle's books than you are," Esposito ribbed. The girl sucked in her bottom lip and made a high-pitched noise at the back of her throat, dropping the detective's hand to clutch the sides of her face.
"He calls him Kev!" she squealed over her shoulder to her brother, who looked like he was never going to let his sister live this down.
"You know," he said to the detectives, stepping forward and putting his hands in his back pockets, "Brittany here writes Roach slash-fic."
The girl looked like she'd been hit by a truck.
"NO, I DON'T. SHUT UP, JIM."
"What's...slash-fic?" Esposito asked, but his partner was beginning to look feverish.
"Fans of the book write their own little spin-off stories," James explained. "Most of them involve romance. At least, all of Brit's do."
"JIM!" Brittany screeched, turning redder by the second.
"You should show them," he teased. "I'm sure they'd find it fascinating."
"Wait, romance?" Esposito interrupted. "You mean, between-?"
Brittany wailed shrilly and started beating her brother with tight fists. He was cracking up. "Hey, I'm just trying to be honest with these nice detectives," he laughed. "You know you should never lie to the cops, Brit." At this point, the girl was digging her sharp nails into her brother's shirt like a cat clawing at the couch.
"Well," Esposito said loudly over the guttural sounds of anger and humiliation spilling out of the teenage girl's mouth, "my very pink friend here and I should get going. It was nice meeting you both. Thanks for your help with the case, and, uh..." he tapped the girl on the shoulder, who quit thrashing long enough to look up at the detective, "I'll tell Castle you said what's up." Ryan was already ten paces back and fumbling for the doorknob.
As Esposito stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him, the muffled sounds of two fists beating flesh resumed. "Should we call for back up?" he joked as they heard a moving box crash to the floor. "We don't want to have to deal with a third murder case today."
Ryan's face was bright red. He looked at his partner and said nothing. "Yeah, I know," Esposito muttered, shaking his head. "Don't tell Castle."
Castle and Beckett returned to the precinct a few hours later. Their interrogation of Harry Vander was less than fruitful. He denied even knowing the victim, and his alibi that he was home two hours before the murder took place checked out with the doorman at his building. They had also interrogated Troy Holcomb, the owner of the print shop. He knew nothing about Tim's deal with Sally for free fliers, nor his alleged "beef" with Harry Vander. Troy Holcomb's MTA ticket from Stamford confirmed that he was en route to the city when Tim Gardens was murdered sometime between five and six in the morning. Neither Castle nor Beckett was willing to admit to the boys that they had zero leads.
"I'm telling you," Castle was saying as they stepped off the elevator, "Sally Stuart killed him."
"What?" Beckett laughed. "You heard her saying how bad this publicity was for her business."
"But think about what a great story it makes." He was practically foaming at the mouth with excitement. "It looks bad for her, so that brings the heat down on the competition. Maybe Harry gets arrested, or his business shut down. That works for her."
"What I don't get," Beckett interrupted, clearly not listening to Castle, "is how does a store six months old do better than the one that's been around over two decades?"
"Hmm," Castle responded. "Maybe we should find out what happened when Harry met Sally."
As they rounded the corner, Castle noticed Ryan on his computer. He snuck up behind him and practically rested his chin on Ryan's shoulder.
"Whatcha doing?"
Ryan jumped a foot out of his chair and quickly switched tabs. "Nothing."
"Wait a minute," Castle said. "Go back. What was that?"
"What was what?"
"That page you were just on," Castle said, pointing at the screen. "It said Roach at the top."
"No, it didn't."
"Yeah, it did," he protested, "and there was a huge picture of Heat Wave. I just saw it."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ryan said, but his face was starting to burn again. Castle looked at the title on the browser's tab.
"Roach fic-a-thon?" he asked. "What's a fic-a-thon?"
Esposito leapt up from his desk and power-walked over to Ryan's desk. "What's going on?" he asked.
"Ryan's on some Heat Wave fan site," Castle said, "but he won't show me what it is."
"It's nothing," Ryan croaked, his voice high and scratchy. "We're just following up on a lead from our case, that's all."
"A lead that has to do with Heat Wave?" Castle asked.
"Oh, why, Castle?" Esposito interrupted. "Did you want to help us? Because remember, that would count as a win for us."
"Hell no," the writer said, suddenly standing up straight. "You boys keep on that. I'm sure you're hot on the trail," he said sardonically, walking away. "We're doing just fine with our case, thank you very much," his voice trailed off as he rounded the corner out of the room.
"Well, that was close," Ryan mumbled.
"Bro, what the hell are you doing?" Esposito leaned over his partner to grab the mouse and close the browser window.
"What? Aren't you curious to know what people are writing about us?"
"It's not us, man," Esposito said. "You are not Raley, and I am not Ochoa."
"I know," he responded, "but, I mean, come on. They're basically us."
There was something about the way Ryan said "us" that made Esposito's stomach lurch. "Look," he said, pointing at the computer, "let's just please focus on solving our case before those fictions turn into reality, okay?" He pulled a hand down his face and sighed. "I just spoke with both of James's parents. They both confirmed his alibi." He held out a piece of paper with a name scribbled on it. "I just got off the phone with the university. There was a Carl Paseiko in the same economics class as Madelyn last semester. That must be the guy Norway was talking about."
"Got an address?" Ryan asked.
"I'll drive."
The ride to the upper west side was dead silent except for the occasional clicking noise Ryan made with his tongue and Esposito's drumming on the steering wheel at stoplights. The midday traffic made the ride longer than either one could stand.
The Paseikos' apartment was significantly less impressive than the Norways'. It was six floors up and not much more than a hole in the wall. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, a tiny kitchen, and six square feet of living space. How five people lived in this place was mind-boggling.
Carl looked pale and tired. The boys offered to drive him down to the station to talk, but he offered them his tiny couch instead and sat in a collapsible tin chair opposite. Ryan and Esposito were uncomfortably cramped.
"We had a few classes together," Carl said, sounding as drained as he looked. "And yeah, we hooked up a little more than a month ago."
"Was it anything serious?" Ryan asked as gently as he could manage.
"We were partners," he said, "on a few projects. I guess you don't really realize it, when you work that closely with someone, just how much you care for them."
Esposito fidgeted awkwardly. Ryan pretended not to notice.
"Ahem. Could you please tell us your whereabouts the time of the murder?" Esposito asked. Carl scoffed softly, singed by Esposito's lack of delicacy.
"And when was that?" he asked.
"Between one and three."
"I was here," the boy said curtly. "Sleeping."
"Can anyone verify that?"
"Sure. Both my brothers and my dad were here, playing Madden until about four in the morning." He pointed to the video game system in the corner, tucked under a tiny television.
Ryan's phone buzzed in his pocket, pressed against Esposito's thigh. Unsure whose it was, they both reached for it, touched hands, and then quickly pulled back.
"I think that's you," Esposito said, grateful that his slightly darker skin hardly blushed. Ryan leapt up from the couch to take the call in the hallway.
"Did you notice anything strange at the party last night?" Esposito continued in Ryan's absence.
"Party?" Carl asked. "What party?"
"Bryan Geller's graduation party."
"I wasn't invited."
"You weren't?"
"Geller and I weren't really close," he said. "We were both good friends with Maddie, but..."
"But what?"
"He didn't approve." Carl looked desperately like he wanted to stay vague, but Esposito looked unhappy with his answer. Carl sighed. "He didn't approve when Maddie and I hooked up."
"And why was that?"
"Because I have a girlfriend."
Ryan came back into the room, looking very eager. "That was Lanie," he said. "She, uh, she found something very interesting. Can I talk to you out here?" he asked, nodding toward the hallway.
"Sure," Esposito said. "Excuse us one moment." He followed his partner out into the hall and closed the door behind them. "What's going on?"
"Madelyn," Ryan returned. "She was six weeks pregnant."
"You're kidding."
Ryan shook his head. The both looked back at the apartment door.
"If Carl has a girlfriend," Esposito pointed out, "and he knocked up some other girl..."
"He would need to keep that quiet," Ryan finished, "before his girlfriend found out."
Beckett sat perched on the edge of her desk, gazing helplessly at her murder board. "We've got no suspects," she sighed, running a hand through her poker-straight hair, "no murder weapon, and no chance of winning this thing."
In her peripherals she saw Castle pull out a small breath spray from the inside of his jacked and poise it at his open mouth. Without tearing her eyes from the board, she smacked it out of his hands. It clattered to the floor at Ryan's feet as he and Esposito stepped into the room, a handcuffed Carl Paseiko in tow. Beckett leapt up from her desk at the sight of them.
"Excuse us," Ryan said as he and Esposito lead their suspect to the interrogation room. Beckett looked panicked while Castle looked like he couldn't decide if he was devastated or thrilled. The two of them raced into the observation room to watch through the glass.
"This is ridiculous," Carl said as Esposito pushed him gently into the chair. "I told you I was home."
"And if you're alibi checks," Ryan said, "you'll be free to go. Until then, we have a few more questions for you."
"Look, I had no idea Maddie was pregnant," Carl said for the twelfth time. "And if I did, I certainly wouldn't have killed her while she was carrying my child!"
"Your girlfriend know about this?" Esposito asked. The kid closed his eyes.
"Rachel doesn't know anything about this, so please, please don't tell her. We've been having some troubles lately, and this is the last thing-"
"Is that why you cheated on her?" Ryan asked. He sounded personally affronted.
"Yes," Carl said calmly, "it's true. We've been having troubles for a while. Sleeping with Maddie was a mistake, and we agreed it was best not to tell anyone."
"She told her boyfriend," Esposito pointed out.
"What?" Carl said, sitting forward. "Jim knows?"
"He and Maddie were arguing about it last night."
"Well, then why don't you go interrogate him?" Carl snapped. "He'd have more reason to kill her than I would!"
"James has a solid alibi."
"Well, so do I," Carl said. "If you don't believe me, call my father. He's also my lawyer."
Carl's alibi checked out, leaving Ryan and Esposito desperate for a new lead. They decided to split up to tackle different hunches. Ryan wanted to speak to Maddie's family, and Esposito decided to talk with her advisor at Pace. Esposito returned to the precinct first, utterly defeated.
Meanwhile, Beckett dove into every aspect of Tim Gardens's life-his finances, his family, his personal relationships. The man was a saint, and even Castle couldn't write a brilliant story that would explain why anyone would want him dead.
It wasn't until the late evening that Beckett was finally onto something. She and Castle had already interrogated Tim Gardens's boss, Troy Holcomb, in person, but he called again that evening. A black Cadillac with tinted windows had driven by his print shop three times in the last hour. The third time, he got the plates. When Beckett ran them through the system, it was registered to an Antonio Vitale.
"Tony Vitale?" Castle asked, looking over her shoulder. "He's a crime lord."
"We're on our way, Mr. Holcomb," Beckett said over the phone. Esposito and Montgomery, who had raided the downstairs vending machine for chips and energy bars, returned just in time to see Beckett and Castle throwing on their bullet-proof vests.
"What's going on?" Montgomery asked. Esposito looked worried.
"We've got a lead on the Gardens case," Beckett said, securing the Velcro. "Looks like it may have been a mob hit."
Just then, the elevator doors swung open, and Ryan came jogging into the room. "Esposito, you're not going to believe this," he said, pulling his partner off to the side. "I was just talking to Maddie's family. They let me use her computer so I could check her Facebook inbox and sent folder. She sent Carl a message two days ago telling him about the baby."
Esposito's brow furrowed. "But, his alibi-"
"I know," Ryan said. "So I spoke to him again. He claims he never got the message, but he says that his girlfriend, Rachel Bolton? She has his log-in information."
"Let's pick her up," Esposito said.
"Not so fast," Montgomery interrupted. "Beckett needs back-up. I want you two to follow her out."
The boys shared terrified looks. "No way," Ryan said. "We're not helping them close their case first."
"Excuse me?"
Esposito glared at Ryan. The captain didn't know about the bet, and they weren't about to admit to it. "Sir, we just-"
"I'm aware, detectives," Montgomery interrupted. "But your jealous girlfriend lead can wait. Because around here, when our detectives need back up, we back them up. Now get your asses in the car."
Beckett was positively giddy as Montgomery stalked away, leaving Ryan and Esposito to look utterly defeated. "Come on, boys," she said. "We got a murderer to catch."
Beckett called Lanie from the car to update her on the investigation. "With any luck," Beckett said, "we'll have this guy in custody within the hour. Meet us at the station. You won't want to miss it."
Beckett and the boys parked about a block away from the print shop. They split up and took different paths to look for the Cadillac. Beckett and Castle found it behind the print shop, deserted. Beckett heard a shot and whirled around, her own gun pointed straight ahead, just in time to see a shadow slump down to the ground and hear the sound of metal skittering across the blacktop. Esposito stood on the other side, smoke billowing out of the barrel of his shotgun.
"He pulled a gun on you," Esposito said, nodding to a piece of silver on the ground, glinting from the dim streetlight. Ryan was already on his knees, handcuffing the mobster where he lay. "Obviously he didn't see us hiding behind the dumpster."
Tony didn't talk in the interrogation. He didn't have to. When Beckett checked the records at the police station, there had been a complaint filed against Mr. Vitale by Harry Vander not two weeks ago. With Vitale in lock up, Harry Vander gave his written statement about his lifelong rivalry with the Vitale family. This time, when asked how he knew Tim Gardens, Vander admitted that they used to be best friends until he stole Tim's girlfriend.
"That was twenty years ago," Vander said. "He never got over it."
"When Vitale got wind of Gardens's beef with Vander," Beckett told Montgomery, "they killed him to try to bring the heat down on Vander. Stashing him behind Sally's Sweet Tooth made Vander look that much guiltier."
"Good work," Montgomery said. "You, too," he nodded and Esposito and Ryan. They forced smiles as the captain headed back to his office.
Beckett turned to the boys, grinning widely. "I believe this makes us the winners," she said, waving Lanie and Castle over.
"No way," Esposito said. "We would have won if Montgomery hadn't stuck us on your case."
"What is it you said?" Castle asked, appearing at Ryan's shoulder. "If you help the other team, they still get the glory?"
Ryan groaned.
Lanie and Beckett stood side-by-side, leaning against her desk. Both were giggling like schoolgirls. "A deal's a deal," the coroner sniggered, folding her arms expectantly. "I am so tweeting about this later."
Castle grabbed each of the boys by the shoulder and turned them toward each other. Beckett dug her camera phone out of her pocket and held it up. "I think this is going to be the cover of 12th's Christmas card."
Ryan closed his eyes and puckered his lips. Esposito jumped back. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked. Ryan opened an eyelid.
"What? Guys don't do this when they kiss?"
"How should I know?" Esposito snapped. "You're the one reading slash-fic."
"All right," Castle said impatiently, "stop being such girls and just do it already."
"You are so dead, Parish," Esposito mumbled deadpan. She flashed him her best smile.
"Hey, I was rooting for you two to win," she snorted. Slighted, Beckett nudged her friend in the ribs.
"Gee, thanks, Lanie."
"Girl, please."
"You two are next," Castle said, wagging a finger between the two ladies. "Oh, just do it, Honey Milk," Castle teased as he plopped ceremoniously into Beckett's chair, "I promise I won't tell Jenny."
"Let's just get this over with," Ryan muttered so that only Esposito could hear him. "Come on, we'll laugh about it later."
The boys swayed uneasily, neither one wanting to make the first move. While they were making awkward kissy faces at each other, Castle looked over at Beckett. "Ready?" he mouthed silently. She nodded eagerly and held her phone up higher, her finger at the ready on the snap button. With one quick motion, Castle nudged Esposito sharply between the shoulder blades, knocking him lips-first into his partner.
They stumbled, arms flailing to regain their balance; they wound up in an awkward-looking hug, lips still mashed together. They pulled apart, neither one brave enough to look at the other. If Ryan was red before, it was nothing compared to the deep color of embarrassment he sported on his cheeks now. Even Esposito looked pinker than usual.
Beckett and Lanie were laughing so hard, they were clutching each other for support. Castle was already out of the chair and on the ground.
"Did you get a good picture?" Lanie asked.
"I got three!"
By the time the three of them calmed down long enough to look up, the boys were gone.
"Oh, where'd they go?" Lanie asked, a hint of a laugh still pushing her words.
"To finish what they started?" Castle suggested, and the girls roared louder with laughter.
"I'm sure they just left to close their case," Beckett offered.
Castle picked himself up and approached Lanie. "Well," he said offering his right hand, "I've got to thank you, Lanes, for giving me a fabulous scene to write into my next book."
"It was my pleasure," Lanie grinned, shaking Castle's hand. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have got a tall glass of wine at home with my name on it."
"See you, Lanie," Beckett said, her laughter dying slowly. "You know, I really should thank Esposito," she said to Castle when Lanie was out of ear shot. "He helped me dodge two bullets tonight."
"Ouch," Castle said, holding a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "Admit it, it wouldn't have been so bad if we'd lost."
"Nope," Beckett said, hopping off her desk and grabbing her empty coffee mug. "This outcome was much better."
"I guess next time, I'll just have to undermine you every step of the way," Castle said.
"How is that any different from what you normally do?"
"Har har," he hummed. "It's getting late. You want to share a cab?"
"Oh, no thanks," Beckett said, holding up the mug. "I'm going to fill up before I go. It's been long day, and I've got paperwork to finish on this damn mess."
"Suit yourself," Castle said. "If you do thank Esposito, give him a goodbye kiss for me, will you?"
"Oh, why bother, when I can just make Ryan do it?" she snickered. Castle laughed heartily and wished her a good night.
Beckett looked at the photos on her phone and laughed. She thought about calling Troy Holcomb and asking for a print job favor. Smiling to herself, she flipped her phone closed with one hand and stuck it in her back pocket. Still clutching her mug in the other hand, she headed for the break room.
She dropped the mug with a shriek as soon as she hit the doorway. It broke into forty pieces, half of which skidded across the wood floor and landed by the tangled feet of two very guilty looking detectives. Esposito shoved Ryan hastily, their lips making a loud suction noise as they pulled apart.
Beckett gasped, looking as though she'd just stumbled upon her own surprise birthday party. Ryan spluttered, unable to justify what she had just walked in on. The three of them stared at each other for what seemed like a never-ending awkward silence before Esposito finally cleared his throat and addressed the shock-faced detective in the high heels.
"Just-ahem-please don't tell Castle."