Agent Rodgers, FBI
Prologue

Alexis Castle had been diagnosed with Leukemia when she was six years old.

The first thing the chemo did (aside from making her sick to her stomach) was make all of her red hair fall out. She tried to keep up a brave face through it all for her father, but the chemo tore though her already small body like wildfire. He had broken off his affair with Sophia Turner shortly after Alexis was diagnosed. She had been disappointed, of course, but she seemed to understand. His daughter had to come first.

During the next two years Richard Castle rarely left the loft except to take her to her oncologist's office for the routine injections. He wrote while she slept or played games on her computer. He had never been so timely with his manuscripts.

The first Derek Storm novel had come out to great fanfare. The release party had been one of the few that he had made since she was diagnosed, simply because for once she had been well enough to attend it with him. He had had a beautiful wig made that perfectly matched the color of her red hair and her makeup professionally done so she wouldn't feel self conscious at the party. He knew she didn't want anyone's pity. For a very brief time she was the bubbly little girl she used to be. Reveling in her father's success and all of the positive attention she received from the grownups in the room.

January 9th 2002

"Alexis!" Richard Castle yelled from the stairs, "Pumpkin! Time to get up sleepyhead!"

There was no answer.

Castle walked up the stairs, worry creeping into his voice. "Alexis!"

He took the remaining stairs two at a time.

"Alexis!"

When he threw open the door to her room, she looked for all the world like she was simply asleep, curled up in her bed a small smile on her gaunt little face. She had obviously slipped away peacefully in her sleep during the night. Her body was cold to the touch.

"Oh God, no please.. no!" he sobbed, as he pulled her to his chest, tears running down his face.

She was gone.

Her funeral a few days later was a small solemn affair, attended by only a few people he knew well. (Paula had worked her witchy PR powers and managed to keep the paparazi at bay) Among them was his mother, Martha, and Alexis' mother Meredith, bemoaning the fact that she was supposed to have visited the week before Alexis died but took a guest spot on a TV series instead. She broke down over her white marble headstone and wept uncontrollably. Richard didn't even have it in him to feel contempt for her any longer. Only a wave of intense pity.

….

For the next year after he had buried his daughter on that cold January day, he worked feverishly, tirelessly on the second, (and final) Derek Storm novel, Storm Fall. It released to massive accolades and fanfare as he announced his retirement from writing. It had the following dedication:

For Alexis.
10/4/1994-1/9/2002
Goodnight, my little angel.

Little did his multitudes of adoring fans know that the day after she died, he had his lawyer legally change his name back to Richard Alexander Rodgers, and had hers retroactively changed too. She had wanted her privacy in her short life, he would make certain she had it in death.

The week after the last book signing, he received his acceptance letter for the FBI training academy in Quantico, Virginia. He booked a one way plane ticket to Richmond, locked the door to the loft and didn't look back.

February 14th 2006

FBI Special Agent Richard Rodgers hated Valentine's Day. It always seemed to remind him of his daughter, and all of the little things she used to do every year before she was diagnosed. He still kept the box containing everything she had ever made for him. On days like this he took the day off, got drunk and looked through them all. It always turned out the same way, he'd curse himself for keeping them, then very carefully pack them back in the box, and return it to the top shelf of the closet in his small Washington DC apartment.

He could afford a much bigger place, but he rarely touched the residual money from his books from Black Pawn Publishing. It kept the loft in New York paid for, as he would never give the place up. Her memory would always be alive there. Besides, occasionally his mother or Meredith would need a place to stay when going to visit her grave. He lived meagerly on his FBI Agent's salary. It suited him now.

Tomorrow, he would have to sober up and start his first day as Special Agent in Charge of a newly formed serial killer task force. He'd be meeting his new partner, Agent Jordan Shaw in the morning. She seemed like a pretty straight shooter, got top marks at Quantico and came highly recommended as a profiler. She had been in the Bureau longer, but he had spent his time out in the field chasing bank robbers, kidnappers, and terrorists while she spent most of hers in the behavioral sciences division. Had she spent more time in the field, he'd probably be reporting to her.

He'd be grooming her for his job before he was done. His quick rise in the Bureau had most people who knew him certain that somebody was "looking out for him" he had no idea who that might be, as he'd given up any belief in a higher power after Alexis died. It was in her memory that he took the most relentless care in chasing down kidnappers of children. He more than owed her memory that much.

On his way to bed, he ran his fingers through the neatly trimmed Van Dyke beard he had grown to disguise his features after graduating from the academy. The last thing he needed was to be recognized for his former life as a best selling crime novelist. Too many of his academy classmates had asked about the resemblance.

That life had ended with his daughter's. He was done with it.