Stay in Touch

Chapter 1

Kate can feel her lips chapping. She's been standing in line for almost an hour and thank God, is almost to the entrance of the bookstore. The queue inside leading to Richard Castle's table is long too, but at least she'll be out of the wind. A couple of times when it kicked up, she thought about going home, but if she did, she'd probably just try to bury herself in one of Castle's books anyway. She'd much rather meet the man, for however long it takes to get an autograph. He captured her mother's attention as few other authors could. That alone was a gift. The opportunity to feel close to Johanna Beckett when she reads his words is even more of one. She needs to tell him at least that much, but the line is moving pretty fast. She won't have a lot of time.

Richard Castle glances up at the slim girl holding out a copy of his latest book. With those cheekbones, she'd be beautiful in camouflage makeup, but there are dark circles under her eyes, her hair has lost its sheen, and her skin is pale beneath the ruddiness induced by the chilling weather. "To whom shall I make it out?"

Kate almost smiles. Who but her mother's favorite author would be that grammatically correct? "Make it out to Kate, Kate Beckett." The words flood from her mouth. "Mr. Castle, I know you only have a minute, but I have to tell you how much your work means to me." Tears begin to flow from her eyes as she pictures Johanna curled up in a corner of the sofa with a cup of the hot chocolate they made together and a Richard Castle novel. "My mother was killed, and she loved your books. Reading them - it's like you give a piece of her back to me. And there's so much she used to say about your stories. I wish you had time to hear it."

Castle scans the crowd still awaiting his attention, but his eyes are drawn back to the figure standing in front of him. "Kate, I would love to hear what your mother said about my books, but there are so many people still waiting. Look, if you can stick around, perhaps in the reading corner where they have the drinks and those evil pastries, I can meet you there after I'm finished."

Kate's mouth falls open. "Really?"

"Really," Castle confirms. "Try the pain au chocolate. It's incredible. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Kate is on her second cup of coffee when Castle, carrying his own cup, slides into the chair across from her at the small table in the rear of the bookstore. "You really came."

"I told you I would." He inhales deeply of the rich brew he holds in both hands. "Whew! The scents of perfume on women can be stimulating, but being bombarded by hundreds of them, not to mention the body sprays on the men, can be a little overwhelming in a closed space. That's better." He takes a sip. "I can use the heat and the caffeine too. It helps uncramp my hand."

Kate has an urge to reach out and touch his painful fingers but doesn't dare. "I never thought about what it would do to you to sign all those books. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. A little writer's cramp is better than not having anyone show up. That happened after Hell Hath No Fury."

This time Kate does smile. "My mother bought a copy but said it might not have been your best work."

"Angry Wiccans out for blood? She was being kind. It was definitely not my best work. Black Pawn almost dropped me. But the next Derrick Storm sold two million copies, so they decided I might be worth keeping around. Tell me more about your mother - and about you too."

"You really want to know?"

"If I didn't, I wouldn't have asked."

"Mom was a lawyer, a civil rights attorney. It probably sounds corny, but she believed in truth and justice. She worked day and night to get it for her clients, but somehow, she always found time for my dad and me. He's also an attorney. I wanted to follow in their footsteps. I was in pre-law at Stanford."

"You're not anymore?"

"No. After my mother was killed, my father - he couldn't handle it. So I came back to New York. I'm at NYU now. When I finish, I'm going to enroll in the police academy."

"You want to be a cop. Why?"

"Because my mother's murderer was never caught, and I need to try. She spent her life getting justice for others. She deserves to have some for herself."

"How about you, Kate? What do you deserve?"

"The chance to make things right again."

Castle covers her hand with his own. "I hope that you get it, Kate." He reaches into his shirt pocket for a card. "This is my mailing address. Letters are forwarded to me when I'm out of town. Stay in touch. Let me know how it's going."

Kate's fingers close over the piece of cardboard. "Thank you, Mr. Castle. I'd like that."

Dear Mr. Castle,

I just started classes at the police academy. The competition here is fierce, and I'm up against mostly men. That doesn't matter much in the classroom, but it can make a lot of difference in the gym and in handling weapons. I never realized just how much stuff cops need to have on them all the time. I'm working hard to build myself up. Many of my classmates may still be stronger, but I can be quicker and more agile. I'm also determined to be a better shot.

So far, the bookwork isn't a problem. It's pretty simple compared to what I was learning at Stanford and NYU. To tell you the truth, the curriculum was more intense when I was in high school at Stuyvesant, but that was science and math. Here, there is just a lot of memorization. The number of regulations seems endless.

You're lucky, as a writer, your characters can skirt the rules or ignore them. We can't do that here. If we step over the line the slightest bit, the sergeant is on our butts. Someone like that who follows all the rules might make a good character for one of your books. She'd be a change and a foil for your heroes. Maybe she could even be a cop instead of a spy. Your protagonists get into enough trouble to tangle with one.

I don't want to take too much of your time. I read in the New York Review of Books that you are on another tour, and I understand how draining those are for you. After reading your latest novel, I think the lines will be even longer than the one I was standing in when I met you. I hope the bookstores all have decent coffee and that you don't get sick again from the cream filling in a doughnut. They should have given you pain au chocolate. You were right about how incredible it is. I can't get enough of it now. The other cadets tease me about being a chocoholic. Maybe I am. I have an emergency bag of M&Ms in my locker.

Anyway, take care of yourself. Stay in touch.

Sincerely,

Kate Beckett