Reborn in Castle (TV show)

[Later That Day] [12th Precinct]

Esposito came toward Kate's desk carrying a thin folder and wearing the irritated expression of someone whose easiest investigative lead had just disappeared.

"The hotel cameras are useless," he said as he dropped the folder beside her keyboard. "Every camera in the hotel was down between two and six this morning."

Kate looked up immediately. "All of them?"

"Hallway, elevators, stairwell entrance, parking and the service corridor."

Travis had just stepped out of the elevator after spending nearly two hours questioning hotel employees. He heard the last part and walked toward them with his coat folded over one arm.

"That's convenient."

Esposito nodded. "Hotel manager says it was scheduled maintenance."

Kate frowned. "Scheduled for the middle of the night?"

"It's a twenty-four-hour hotel," Esposito replied. "According to him, between two and six is their lowest traffic period, so maintenance always gets scheduled around then."

Travis stopped beside his desk and placed several pages down. "Was it actually scheduled?"

"Yeah. Maintenance request was entered three weeks ago. Outside security company handled the work, and their technicians checked in at one fifty-seven this morning."

"So unless our killer planned this three weeks in advance, the camera outage might actually be coincidence," Kate said.

"Or somebody knew about the maintenance schedule," Travis added.

Kate leaned back slightly and looked between them. "Who had access to the schedule?"

"Hotel management, maintenance staff, corporate security, and the outside contractor," Esposito replied. "I've got names coming."

Travis dropped into his chair with a tired sigh.

Kate looked toward him. "Anything from the hotel staff?"

"Nothing important," Travis replied. "Nobody heard an argument. Nobody saw Reed with anyone suspicious. Room service delivered wine and dinner at nine forty-seven last night. She answered the door alone, looked normal, and tipped twenty bucks."

"What did she order?"

"Grilled salmon, vegetables, cheesecake, and a bottle of Cabernet."

Esposito glanced toward him. "Twenty-dollar tip?"

"Yeah, the staff said she was really generous."

Travis opened his notebook. "Housekeeping saw her earlier that evening around seven when she requested extra towels. Front desk says she is a regular, and funny thing, she believes in superstitious things, so every time she stays in that hotel, she always books that particular room. In case that room is unavailable, she simply waits. Also, no second key or electronic key card was issued, and nobody remembers her reporting one missing or asking for a replacement."

Kate looked toward the murder-board photograph showing the closed hotel-room door.

"So either she voluntarily let the killer inside, or the killer had another way into the room."

"Master key," Esposito said.

"Well, the killer had, let's say, two to three weeks to prepare, depending on when they got the maintenance info. They would definitely know about our victim's habit. So, what if the killer booked that room before Allison, made a copy of the key, and left, or maybe booked another room and waited for Allison to arrive?" Travis said after thinking for a bit. Then he took out his phone, opened the hotel app, and showed it to them. "As for how our killer booked that particular room..."

The app gives choices to select rooms according to the floor and number during the booking.

"The app made it very easy for our killer to achieve their goal."

Kate stared at the hotel app on Travis's phone for another few seconds, then looked toward Esposito.

"Get a warrant for the hotel's booking records," she said. "I want everyone who reserved Room 814 over the last month, including canceled reservations, short stays, app bookings, and anybody who checked out early."

Esposito nodded as he reached into his pocket for his phone.

"Also pull payment information, names attached to the accounts, IP addresses if the hotel keeps them, and every room booked on the eighth floor during that camera shutdown," Kate added. "If Travis is right and somebody used the app to get access to 814 before Allison arrived, that could give us our first real lead."

"I'm on it," Esposito replied as he raised the phone to his ear and walked toward the elevators.

Travis lowered his phone and leaned against the edge of Kate's desk. "If our killer booked 814 a few days before her, copying the physical key for the secondary lock might've been enough."

Kate nodded. "Or they could've hidden something inside the room ahead of time. Another key card, a tool, drugs, whatever they needed."

"Exactly. And if they knew Allison refused to stay anywhere except 814, they didn't have to guess where she'd be."

A familiar voice came from behind them.

"So, anything new?"

Castle walked into the bullpen while slipping his phone into his coat pocket. From the satisfied expression on his face, his conversation with Gina had apparently gone better than whatever parental crisis he had been suffering through earlier.

Kate turned toward him. "Where've you been?"

"Talking to Gina," Castle replied as he approached her desk. "Apparently, publishing emergencies don't stop simply because there's a possible serial killer wandering around Manhattan. Very inconsiderate industry."

Travis raised an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

"Perfectly fine. She just wanted to remind me that missing another manuscript deadline could result in a murder where I'm the victim."

Kate gave him a dry look. "At least we'd have plenty of suspects."

Castle looked mildly offended. "You'd solve my murder, right?"

"I'd try."

"That hesitation was emotionally devastating."

Kate ignored him and turned the hotel app toward Castle. "We found out Allison always stayed in the same room whenever she came to the Weyland. Room 814. She was extremely superstitious and refused to stay in another room if it wasn't available."

Castle's expression immediately became interested. "How superstitious are we talking? Avoiding black cats, refusing to walk under ladders, or carrying crystals while Mercury is doing something inconvenient?"

"We're still figuring that out," Kate replied. "The important part is the hotel app lets guests choose the exact room they want when they book, and our killer could've had up to three weeks to prepare."

Castle looked at the screen and understood almost immediately. "So our killer could've known exactly where Allison would stay."

"More than that," Travis said as he slid his phone back into his pocket. "If somebody knew her habits, they could've reserved 814 before her, gotten inside, figured out the layout, copied a key since the room has a dual lock system, planted something, or just learned exactly how to get in and out."

Castle slowly smiled. "Premeditation with customer-friendly mobile technology."

Kate nodded toward where Esposito had disappeared. "Espo's getting a warrant for the booking history. If somebody suspicious rented that room recently, we might get a name."

"And if they used a fake identity?"

"Payment method, device information, IP address, old surveillance footage may give us some clue about individual behavior, also hotel Wi-Fi logs," Travis replied. "People leave trails even when they think they're being clever."

Castle rested one hand against Travis's desk. "Unless they're Red John."

Travis gave him a look. "He leaves trails too. He's just been lucky enough to have people miss them."

Castle studied him for half a second, clearly wanting to ask how confident Travis was about that statement.

Kate cut in before he could.

"We're still treating this as a copycat until something proves otherwise."

Castle nodded, although his mind was obviously already racing through several increasingly dramatic possibilities.

Travis turned toward Kate. "You get anything about our victim's background? I mean, it's been hours and nobody's come asking about her."

Kate's expression changed slightly.

"Yeah. I pulled everything we could find while you were questioning hotel staff."

She reached for a folder near her keyboard and opened it.

"Allison Marie Reed, forty-three. Born in Hartford, Connecticut. She moved to New York after college and worked in corporate finance for almost twenty years. For the last six years, she was chief financial officer of Broderick & Vale, a private luxury-property investment company based in Midtown."

Castle leaned closer. "How private?"

"The kind that owns boutique hotels, vacation properties, private residences, and commercial buildings for people who don't like seeing their names in newspapers," Kate replied. "Her attorney gave us access to her financial records, and according to that, Allison made just under seven hundred thousand dollars last year between salary, bonuses, and investment income."

Travis whistled quietly. "So money wasn't a problem."

"No. She owned a two-bedroom apartment on the Upper East Side outright, had around three million in investments, and no major debt."

Castle glanced toward the victim photograph on the murder board. "Then why does a woman with a nice apartment in Manhattan regularly stay at a hotel fifteen minutes away?"

"That's where things get strange," Kate said.

Castle's eyes brightened. "Finally."

Kate gave him a look.

He immediately corrected himself. "Strange in a tragic and professionally relevant way."

Kate opened the folder farther. "Two years ago, Allison lost her husband and daughter in an accident."

The humor disappeared from Castle's face.

Travis straightened slightly. "What happened?"

"Her husband was Daniel Reed, forty-five. Their daughter, Sophie, was sixteen." Kate turned one page around so Travis could see the report. "They were driving back from a weekend trip upstate during a storm. A construction crane at a roadside work site partially collapsed when one of the support assemblies failed. Part of the boom came down across their SUV."

Castle grimaced. "Jesus."

"Both died at the scene," Kate continued. "Allison was supposed to be with them, but she stayed in Manhattan because of an emergency meeting at work."

Travis looked down at the photographs attached to the report.

"That'll mess with someone's head."

"It did," Kate said. "According to coworkers, she changed after that. Took three months off, started seeing a grief counselor, stopped attending company events, and pretty much disappeared socially."

Castle's gaze moved toward the hotel information. "And then came the superstition."

Kate nodded. "About six months after the accident, Allison started seeing psychics."

Travis leaned back. "Plural?"

"Very plural."

Kate pulled another sheet from the folder.

"We found charges going back eighteen months. Psychic readings, mediums, spiritual counselors, astrologers, numerologists, energy healers, séance groups, private meditation retreats, people claiming they could communicate with the dead, and several businesses that apparently make money by selling desperate people expensive rocks."

Castle looked offended on behalf of expensive rocks everywhere. "Some crystals are very aesthetically pleasing."

Kate continued without reacting. "Altogether, she spent a little over fifty-eight thousand dollars."

Travis stared at her. "Fifty-eight grand?"

"On the records we've found," Kate replied. "There could be cash payments we don't know about."

Castle slowly walked toward the board. "She was trying to contact her family."

"That's what it looks like," Kate said. "Her assistant told us Allison became convinced Daniel and Sophie were sending her signs. Numbers, songs on the radio, dreams, lights flickering at certain times."

Castle stopped.

"Numbers?"

Kate already knew where his mind was going.

"August fourteenth," she said.

Castle glanced back toward her.

Travis looked toward the hotel photograph. "Eight-fourteen," he said.

Kate nodded. "The accident happened on August 14th."

Travis snapped his fingers. "Room 814."

"Exactly."

Travis rubbed his jaw slowly. "So that room wasn't just some random superstition."

"No. According to one of her coworkers, Allison believed eight-fourteen was connected to her family. She started noticing the number everywhere after they died. Receipts, clocks, addresses, license plates."

Castle moved back toward the desk. "Apophenia. The brain desperately looking for patterns because accepting randomness is harder."

Kate looked toward him with mild surprise.

Castle shrugged. "I read things."

Travis gave him a faint grin. "Between spying on teenage boyfriends?"

"I prefer protective paternal intelligence gathering."

Kate continued before that argument restarted. "One psychic apparently told Allison that repeating numbers could be a way for the dead to communicate. After that, eight-fourteen became important to her."

"And eventually she finds Room 814 at the Weyland," Travis said.

"About eleven months ago," Kate replied. "Since then, she's stayed there seventeen times."

Castle blinked. "Seventeen?"

"Sometimes overnight, sometimes for an entire weekend. Always alone, according to hotel records."

Travis looked toward the murder board again. "Except maybe she wasn't alone every time."

Kate nodded. "That's one of the things we need to find out."

Castle's attention returned to the psychic angle. "Any particular medium she saw regularly?"

"One name shows up more than the others. Cassandra Wells, professional medium. Allison paid her almost nineteen thousand dollars over the last year."

Travis let out a low whistle. "That better include unlimited calls to the afterlife."

Kate almost smiled. "Cassandra has a private practice in Chelsea. We'll talk to her."

Castle immediately looked delighted. "A psychic connected to a murder staged like Red John."

Kate pointed at him. "Don't."

"I didn't say anything."

"You were about to."

"I was thinking it."

"That's somehow worse."

Travis flipped through the remaining pages. "Anything else in Allison's background that could give somebody a reason to kill her?"

Kate replied, "Three months ago, she was involved in a hit-and-run."

That immediately got both men's attention.

Travis looked up. "She was driving?"

"Yeah. Around eleven thirty at night, Allison's Mercedes hit a twenty-nine-year-old cyclist named Matthew Cole near West 77th. He suffered a broken leg, fractured wrist, concussion, and several other injuries."

Castle frowned. "And she left?"

"She kept driving."

Travis's expression hardened slightly. "How'd they get her?"

"Traffic camera caught part of the plate. Detectives traced the vehicle the next morning, and Allison admitted she had been behind the wheel."

"What was her excuse?"

Kate looked down at the report. "She said something suddenly appeared in front of her car, she panicked, and she didn't fully understand what she'd hit until later."

Travis stared at her. "She thought a cyclist magically appeared?"

"She claimed she saw someone standing in the road."

Castle's expression shifted.

Kate noticed it. "What?"

"Someone?"

Kate nodded. "According to her statement, Allison said she saw her daughter."

The bullpen seemed a little quieter after that.

Travis looked back toward the file. "Her dead daughter?"

"Ghost?!" Castle whispered.

"Yeah. Allison told detectives Sophie was standing in the street wearing the same jacket she wore the weekend she died. Allison swerved, hit Cole, panicked, and drove home."

Castle's face had lost all traces of humor. "Was she drunk?"

"The test wasn't done until the following morning, so they couldn't completely rule out something she'd taken earlier," Kate replied. "Her attorney argued grief-related psychological distress and heavy medication. She voluntarily paid Cole's medical expenses and offered a settlement, but the criminal case was still pending."

Travis leaned forward. "How did Cole feel about that?"

"According to the complaint, extremely angry. He accused her of trying to buy her way out of consequences. He also gave an interview saying rich people always find a diagnosis when they need an excuse."

"There's motive," Travis said.

"There's potential motive," Kate corrected him. "Cole's getting checked now."

Castle looked toward Allison's photograph again. "So two years ago she loses her husband and daughter in a completely random accident. She becomes obsessed with communicating with them, spends tens of thousands on psychics, starts believing numbers are messages, claims she sees her dead daughter in the road, causes another accident, and three months later somebody murders her inside a hotel room connected to the date her family died."

Travis slowly nodded. "And paints Red John's smile on the wall."

Castle folded his arms.

"That's either one hell of a coincidence," he said, "or somebody knew exactly which ghosts Allison Reed was afraid of."

Kate closed the file.

"And if somebody knew enough about her to know the significance of Room 814, then we're probably looking for someone who'd been watching her for a while."

Travis glanced toward the elevators where Esposito had disappeared.

"Which makes that booking list a lot more important."

Just then, Kate's phone rang. She took it from her desk. "Yeah... Ok. We're on our way." She cut the call and looked toward Travis. "Lanie found something..."

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AN: Before anyone asks, we'll see Jane meeting Travis after 1 more chapter.

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