AN: I am so terribly sorry for the gap in posting. I have not been able to figure out how to end this story in a way that wasn't completely lame, until very recently. Immense thanks to contriteshadow, who graciously agreed to look over this for me as we slogged our way through another fic that is completely unrelated. Without her input, this would literally not exist for the foreseeable future. This is it, the case is wrapped up and done. I may add an epilogue to tie up relational stuff with the team, but I make no promises. Too much other "stuff" is competing for attention in my little mind.

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

Chapter 19

As he was navigating a particularly narrow and tricky forest road, Castle's phone rang. Somewhat surprised to get reception this far out, he asked Beckett to take the call for him.

"Castle's phone...this is his partner Detective Kate Beckett, Castle is busy at the moment...Oh, hi Rayna, he's told us about you...okay, thanks. I'll pass it on." Turning to Castle, she explained "Rayna says to hurry. She said she thinks we 'have a chance to accomplish our goal, but if we're too slow it may be over before we get there.' She thought you might be able to figure out what that meant..." Beckett trailed off uncertainly.

"Hmm, accomplish our goal but it might be over? Well, as I said Rayna most likely performed some sort of prayer or meditation ceremony. I've seen her get remarkably accurate information at times, but it's not always literal. So...what is our goal? We want to find out if there is anything linking this guy to the New York crime scene, or if maybe he's even returned there. So what would be...shit, Beckett, I think I know what she means. Sheridan's there, and he's either about to kill himself or destroy whatever is left of the compound."

"I know she's your friend, Castle, and you say you've witnessed some strange things with her. But do you trust her?"

Without hesitation, he responded, "I trust her with Alexis' life, although that's a story for another time. Yes, Beckett, I trust her on this."

"And I trust you. Hold on." With that Beckett checked that she still had reception on her cell phone – just barely. She quickly dialed the Sheriff's office that the team had so recently visited. "Hi, yes, this is Detective Kate Beckett with NYPD. My team and I...yes, good I'm glad you remember us. We are en route to investigate the old crime scene, and we have reason to believe there may be an injured or ill man there. Can you have an ambulance meet us on scene?" Beckett passed on the coordinates from the file and was assured that the Sheriff himself and the nearest team of paramedics and emergency personnel would leave immediately. As she spoke, Castle edged up his speed as much as he safely could, and then some. If Sheridan was there, no way was he going to get to take the easy way out.

"How much further, bro?" Esposito wanted to know.

"We're close, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes now judging from the map," navigator-Detective Beckett responded. The rest of the drive was completed in relative silence, all parties preparing for what might await them. In short order, Castle began to recognize their surroundings from so many years earlier. There were major differences, naturally. For one, they were approaching openly and in the middle of the day, rather than with military stealth at night. More significantly, there was an increase in the foliage. There were still signs of activity from years ago, but it was evident that the area had remained largely abandoned in the years since the botched raid.

Soon, they arrived at the once-thriving compound. The ruins were barely visible, buried as they were under the overgrowth. To one side sat a beat up old pickup truck that had clearly seen many long days on the road; the fresh tire ruts through the vegetation indicated that it had not been there very long. Each member of the team was on high alert – granted they didn't usually work with the input of a psychic, but if Rick Castle believed there was cause for concern then that was good enough for them. It was Espo who first noticed a shape that didn't belong among the vegetation to the side of the pickup. Castle turned off the ignition and the team exited carefully, weapons drawn. For once, Castle was able to openly carry his own weapon without concern of censure or repercussions.

Quietly, they spread out so that they were approaching the truck and unidentified shape from several different sides. Lanie, being an unarmed ME and not a cop, remained safely in the Hummer and watched the action closely. From her vantage point, she could see as the team of four closed ranks around a central point. Suddenly, Castle lowered his weapon and rushed forward. Beckett also holstered her weapon, while looking towards Lanie and gesturing frantically. Ryan and Espo kept their weapons trained near where Castle had dropped to his knees, as Beckett approached and appeared to help him move something heavy. Lanie took her cue immediately, knowing there weren't many reasons her friends and colleagues would request her presence so urgently. If they were looking at a dead body, seconds didn't mean nearly so much; their urgency could only mean someone in dire need of medical attention. Lanie grabbed her forensics kit, which she also kept stocked with basic first-aid supplies, and rushed to join the team.

Lying on the ground at Castle's knees was a man who looked as beat up as the truck that presumably belonged to him. His beard and hair were scraggly, clothes looked as though they wouldn't recognize a washing machine, and based on the smell he'd had more than his share of alcoholic beverages recently. The mostly empty bottle of Jack lying nearby supported that conclusion. As Lanie arrived and dropped to her own knees on the man's other side, Castle continued trying frantically to give CPR, muttering in between breaths, "No way you get out this easily, asshole. You will not die before you tell us what happened to my daughter and why." Beckett eased Castle away so Dr. Parish could take over, and as she conducted her examination the team could hear sirens screeching nearby.

Confident that this man was in no position to be a threat to their partners, Esposito and Ryan moved towards the road leading into the compound and prepared to give instructions to the paramedics and a report to the Sheriff. As a medical doctor, Lanie was given the option to ride in the ambulance and work with the paramedics to keep this man alive. Once the ambulance had loaded up and pulled away, Castle confirmed what they all knew but had not yet had a chance to discuss. The man currently being sped to the nearest medical facility was indeed Joseph Sheridan, co-founder of South Florida Patrol Division and primary murder suspect. Knowing that it would be some time before Sheridan was in a position to answer any questions, the team took the time to look around the compound. With the help of the Sheriff's department, they examined the pickup closely. In addition to the bottle of Jack Daniels that had apparently fallen out of Sheridan's hand, there were a number of cheap beer cans scattered around the floor boards and in the bed of the truck. On the center console was a used needle and an old belt. Beckett and Castle made sure the Sheriff's department bagged the evidence of drug use carefully; given Sheridan's history, the team agreed that it seemed likely he had overdosed on meth. Whether it was an intentional suicide attempt, or the result of years of a drug- and booze-addled mind, remained to be seen. The Sheriff's department agreed to have a deputy stationed at Sheridan's room until he awoke, and to contact their team immediately. They also made arrangements to have the truck towed to the Sheriff's station for further forensic investigation.

Once Beckett and crew were confident that they had done a thorough examination of the scene and collected all the relevant evidence, they piled into the Hummer once more. Castle followed the Sheriff himself as they drove to the nearest medical facility. There they hoped to find Sheridan still alive and returning to consciousness, and to collect their medical examiner.

At the Collier County Hospital, Lanie Parish turned over the care of Joseph Sheridan to the hospital staff. Thanks to the good timing of the team's arrival, coupled with the expert care from the paramedics, all indications were that Sheridan would survive. Of course, Lanie well knew that drug OD's are dangerous things and that the possibility of cognitive impairment was a very real possibility. They would just have to hope that care was administered in time, and that no lasting damage was sustained. Lanie went to the lobby to await the arrival of her colleagues. As soon as she saw Castle's rental monstrosity pull in, she met them in the parking lot and began giving them an update on Sheridan's condition and prognosis.

Although what he wanted to do was to barge into the man's room, shake him conscious, and beat answers out of him, Castle was practical enough to realize this was not the best plan. Instead, since there would be a Sheriff's Deputy stationed there and contacting them in the event of any change, he agreed that perhaps they should head back to the hotel. It was now mid-afternoon, and they still planned to meet with Castle's friends later that evening. As they hadn't eaten since before leaving the hotel, they eagerly accepted the Sheriff's offer to take them to lunch.

While enjoying some popular fare at a local mom-and-pop shop, owned incidentally by the Sheriff's mom and pop, they received a call that their suspect was starting to regain consciousness. The Deputy that called said that Sheridan was starting to mutter and babble as he came to. Checking the time once more, the team agreed that they could always go straight to Connie and Rayna's if needed. There was no reason to delay this if their suspect was starting to stir. They quickly finished lunch, giving lavish praise to the proprietor/cook, and returned to the hospital.

Sheridan was just starting to make some degree of sense when they all arrived to try to take his statement. It would still be some time until he was ready for an interrogation room, but no way were they going to wait longer than necessary to get some answers. As with their visit to Rufus Galloway, Castle didn't quite trust himself talking to this man. He stepped aside and let the New York detectives do their thing, and he observed as quietly as he could. His military training served to help him keep an unusual degree of control over his emotions, which is the only reason he didn't rush in and tear into the man in the hospital bed. Instead, he relied both on his training as an MP and his trust in the detectives handling the case.

Through skilled interrogation, the detectives were able to pull out a reasonably coherent story from Sheridan. He told them that he had been in New York on "business," which the detectives interpreted to mean drug trafficking, when he spotted a ghost in the park. As he completed a "business transaction," Sheridan noticed a young woman sitting on a bench on the other side of the park. When Esposito told him that they had found his used needle and paraphernalia, he confessed to being under the influence of methamphetamines at the time. Sheridan told them that, over the course of several days and numerous "transactions" he continued to see this ghost sitting in the same bench each day. He became frightened that she was haunting him to take some sort of revenge. When asked why he would think that, he revealed that she looked like a woman that had worked for him in a factory once, and had died in a fire. Beckett informed him that they knew all about SFPD and the explosion at the meth lab that resulted in his brief period of success. Sheridan confirmed that he believed her to be the ghost of a woman who died in the explosion, and that she was the mother of the child he later adopted. He confessed that there was, in fact, a good chance that the child was his biologically as he had been involved with the woman in question. Sheridan acknowledged that he had adopted the child as a means to an end, and effectively abandoned her and his wife when his world began collapsing.

After seeing this apparition several times, Sheridan returned to his old stomping grounds in the Everglades to find out what had become of his family. He quickly realized that, while he had spent the last years running drugs all across the country and trying not to be noticed, his family had shattered. He confirmed that he had snuck into Galloway's house one night and found the postcard sent from Anna. Sheridan became irrationally and irrevocably jealous. His daughter had left for New York and was apparently living a content and secure life while he languished in a drug-induced haze and was now little more than an errand boy for men and women who were as wealthy and successful as he had once hoped to be. He returned to New York hoping to reconcile with Anna, intending to get whatever he could out of her. He was not above emotional blackmail, to hear him tell the story.

The meeting did not go as he planned. Like the rest of his life since the meth took over his life, he quickly realized he could not control Anna nor manipulate her into providing for him in any way. He had approached her in the park at her usual bench, hoping to make it seem like a random meeting. She was not impressed. Anna refused to hear him out, blaming him for her mother's early death. Without his presence, there was not enough money for proper treatment that could have saved her life. She was not willing to forgive and forget, and told him that she wanted nothing to do with him ever again. Sheridan became enraged – not helped by the meth that coursed through his veins, as usual. With his military training and drug-enhanced strength, Sheridan had grabbed Anna and snapped her neck before he realized what he was doing. He promptly fled the scene and made arrangements with his employers to make a delivery to contacts in the Carolinas, and from there he bought an old pickup truck and drove back to the Everglades. Sheridan was so drunk and stoned by the time he arrived at the old compound, he couldn't clearly remember why exactly he had decided to return to begin with. But, as he looked at the ruins of his greatest success, he came to the conclusion that there was simply nothing left for him to care about. Shooting up the last of his supply, he grabbed the bottle of Jack and sat down to remember the days when he was a force to be reckoned with.

With the story finally told, Castle and the team once again left the suspect in the care of the Collier County Sheriff's Department. Castle, in a show not only of trust but of just how emotionally taxing listening to the interrogation had been, handed Beckett the keys to the Hummer. She was absolutely not, in the least little bit, excited at the prospect of driving the thing. Of course, apparently no one informed the grin on her face of that fact. As they pulled away, Castle called Rayna to finalize their plans. When he told her that they had caught the suspect and effectively closed the case, minus the paperwork and other formalities, she insisted they come over immediately for a little down time. Castle quickly agreed and gave Beckett directions, then settled in to let the events of the day sink in. Quietly, Beckett reached her right hand over and set it, palm up, on the center console. Castle grabbed her hand and held on, reveling in the comfort she offered.