Castle: A Stranger Came Knocking
Rick Castle was sitting in his study, tapping away at his black laptop, lost in the newest Nikki Heat story. It was a scorcher.
He was lost in Kate Beckett’s mind. He heard Alexis stomping down the stairs, just as he was getting to the sweaty stuff in the novel.
“Dad,” she said breathlessly, “I was thinking.”
“This is new,” he replied.
“Ha!” said Alexis. She gracefully glided into the room and slid a hip onto his desk. “You know how we always take a wild summer vacation?”
He cocked his eyebrow, something was coming.
“Yeessssss,” he answered.
“I was thinking that we could bum it this year? You know, stay in the city? Maybe even explore the city a little bit? There are places that we’ve never been, well, that I’ve never been.”
“You don’t want to leave the city?”
This was a first. Alexis was always the first to be packed and ready to go. She was the first teenager on the planet to have a GPS system when they first hit the market.
“Because I don’t think you can go a month without seeing, talking to, talking about murder, or being with Beckett,” said Alexis.
“Oh,” said Rick. He hasn’t thought of that. A whole month without Beckett at his side, or Beckett vibrating his phone, or Beckett chiding him for being a pain. The thought made him grow cold inside.
“And Grandma wouldn’t be able to come with us, since she’s working.”
“This is true,” said Rick.
“Can we? Stay?”
“I’ll think about it. It’s tradition, kid. How about you finish up the school year first, deal? I have a novel to finish. Now, you’ve gone far past your bedtime, young lady.”
Alexis rolled her eyes and kissed her father’s cheek. “I’m the daughter of Richard Castle, I don’t have a bedtime, as you well know. I love you.”
“As do I. Love you that is, not myself, but you. Though, I do love myself, but not in the way you are thinking….”
Alexis walked out of his study and was off to bed, rolling her green eyes at her father’s antics.
Rick let his fingers caress the keys of the laptop, rereading the last few lines of his paragraph. He once again dove into the world of Nikki Heat and Jamison Rook.
Rick heard a noise. It was at his door step. Soft scrapping of metal on metal and his door knob jiggling ever so slightly.
Placing the laptop gingerly, as one might lay a lover down onto a bed of pillows; he rushed to the front door, grabbing the fireplace poker on his way to the door. He brandished the weapon, looked at it once and thought how useful this tool could be in a murder. His eye shifted in thought. Then the scrap-scrap of a lock picker at his door forced Rick back to reality.