"So, you thought, 'Who cares? It's all the same no matter who you do it with'?" Castle's quip almost made Jack and Hannah choke on their burgers next door.
"Absolutely not!" Grant exclaimed, glaring at Castle in disbelief.
"Oh, come on, Grant. Drop the act. Sophie was gorgeous, and you're hours away from locking yourself into marriage," Castle said with heavy sarcasm.
The blatant malice in his tone made Hannah's eyes widen. She struggled to swallow her food before managing to speak. "Is he projecting? He must be!"
Then she cast a dangerous look at Jack. "Is this how all you men think? Especially since you and Castle became buddies so quickly."
What kind of divine statement was that? Jack quickly denied, "Every so-called 'freebie' comes with a hidden cost already marked in fine print."
"Huh?" Hannah tilted her head, surprised by the philosophical undertone. She nodded in reluctant agreement, deciding not to push the matter further.
Meanwhile, in the interrogation room, Grant retorted emphatically, "No! I love Kyra. I would never betray her—especially not with Sophie."
"Why especially not Sophie?" Beckett asked, zeroing in on the odd emphasis.
Castle's face lit up with mock realization. "You've slept with Sophie before, haven't you?"
Grant turned his head away, clearly uncomfortable, avoiding eye contact with Castle. "Why is he even here? He's a writer, not a cop."
"Trust me, Grant," Castle said smugly, leaning back in his chair and gesturing to the one-way glass behind him. "Would you rather face a writer or an FBI agent with a psychology background? Should I call in Agent Tavalor?"
"Is this guy being extra insufferable today?" Jack muttered next door. Even though Castle's comment indirectly praised him, Jack still felt something was off.
"He's lost his objectivity because of his history with Kyra," Hannah agreed.
"He's acting out of misplaced loyalty, worried Kyra might've picked the wrong guy," Jack observed, already prepared to step in and remove Castle if necessary.
Interrogation required appropriate pressure, but Castle's relentless, borderline-taunting approach risked provoking Grant into silence or hostility. What they needed was Grant's cooperation to piece together the events of that night—not to push him into lawyering up.
"Grant, did you and Sophie ever have a relationship?" Beckett interrupted the tense exchange with her usual composure.
"Once or twice," Grant admitted reluctantly. "But that was before I met Kyra, and we both realized we weren't a good match."
"Clearly Sophie didn't feel the same way," Castle sneered. "She tried to rekindle things—or maybe she succeeded."
Grant's face flushed with anger. "No! When I realized it was her, I was terrified. I pushed her off me, and she fell to the floor. Her earring must've come off then.
"Before I could react, she ran out of the room. It all happened so fast—like a nightmare."
Beckett pressed further. "Then why didn't you tell the police about this earlier? If nothing happened, they could've easily confirmed your story."
"Because I know how bad this looks," Grant said, slumping in his chair. "I didn't want to create unnecessary misunderstandings."
Castle gave Beckett a knowing look, dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, sure, because we'd never jump to conclusions about a story this poorly fabricated."
"I've had enough! I want him out of here," Grant said, his voice rising as he pointed at Castle. "It's clear he has a personal vendetta because he's still hung up on Kyra."
"I'm not the one being accused of murder," Castle shot back, leaning in to emphasize every word.
Just as tensions reached their peak, the door to the interrogation room opened. Jack stood in the doorway, his calm demeanor like a bucket of cold water on Castle's fiery outbursts.
Jack said nothing, but the look he gave Castle was enough to defuse the situation instantly.
"Either he leaves, or I'm done answering questions," Grant declared, trying to rein in his anger. Even in his frustration, he avoided using foul language.
"There's a juicy burger and crispy fries waiting next door, Castle. You must be starving," Jack said, gesturing for Castle to leave, offering him a way out.
"I'm not taking orders here—this is an interrogation room, not your turf. I'm just too hungry to think straight," Castle grumbled, finding his own way to save face. He threw a parting jab at Grant before storming out.
"Alright, Grant, let's go over everything from the beginning," Jack said with a reassuring smile as he closed the door and took Castle's seat beside Beckett.
Grant hadn't asked for a lawyer, but his uncle, Teddy Murphy, a seasoned attorney, arrived at the station soon after. By then, Beckett had finished taking Grant's statement and saw them out.
Castle, pouting like a petulant child, looked almost comical with his slightly pursed lips—a sight one wouldn't expect from a man in his forties. Facing Hannah across the table, his antics even made her chuckle despite herself.
"I can't believe you just let him walk out like that," Castle huffed.
"Because there's a good chance he's innocent," Jack replied matter-of-factly.
"Oh, please. Don't tell me you actually believe that ridiculous story. It sounds like a bad adult film script!" Castle protested.
"You're not wrong," Beckett interjected with a glare. "But tell me—if you were making up a lie, would you choose something this clumsy and over-the-top?"
"So what? He's a slick businessman in a suit. Maybe storytelling isn't his forte, but that doesn't mean he's innocent," Castle argued.
Jack sighed. Castle was still too worked up. "First, we haven't ruled him out as a suspect. He's still under suspicion. Second, didn't you once say you'd study forensic science? Have you even bothered to open a textbook?"
Castle blinked, momentarily thrown off by the apparent non sequitur. Jack's next words, however, hit their mark.
"If Grant's lying and he did have a physical altercation with Sophie—whether due to blackmail or some other motive—then tell me: is arguing with him in the interrogation room your best move, or would you choose another option?"
Castle froze as if struck by lightning. After a long pause, he muttered, "I'd... I'd talk to Lanie. Ask her to check if Sophie's body has traces of his DNA or lubricant from a condom."
(End of Chapter)
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