Huh?
Okay, cue the chandelier.
Yeah! Yeah!
Illinois? That's like 500 miles from Manhattan.
No, I know Northwestern is closer than Stanford.
- I'm just saying, that's not where you want to go. - Alexis?
Hold on, Ash. My dad's talking to me. What?
Don't you have school? Yes.
Look, Ash, I know you,
and I think you need to get away from home.
- I mean, we all need to get away from home. - Hey.
I gotta go. We'll talk about this later.
Love you, too. Bye.
"We all need to get away from home"? No. I should never leave.
We can be the father-daughter version of "Grey Gardens."
Ew.
You look like you didn't get any sleep.
I didn't.
I mean, Ashley got his college acceptances.
He got in everywhere.
Well, that's great. That's not great?
I looked up statistics for high-school sweethearts
when one of them goes to college out of state
and the other stays in high school.
The odds are not in our favor.
I mean, I want him to go where he wants,
but I don't want him to leave, and he doesn't want to leave,
but I don't want him to resent me for not going where he wants,
and I don't know what to do. Well,
do what I do. Look at the odds as a challenge.
Says the man who always loses in Vegas. Relationships are hard.
Odds are, you'll figure it out.
Odds are, someone's dead.
Castle.
You've gotta be kidding me.
A murder in the theater of the V.B. Tower Hotel,
Victor Baron's place?
It's not the Baron, is it?
No, but you won't be disappointed.
This one's right up your alley. Why is that?
Because our victim is a contestant.
Death of a beauty queen— Scandalous.
Yeah, surprised it doesn't happen more often.
Is that America's dad, Bobby Stark?
What's he doing here?
He's the pageant host.
Oh, please don't tell me
that you watch his sitcom. "Family Foibles"?
Half of what I know about being a father,
I learned from watching that show.
Hey, Beckett. So what's the story?
Well, according to Candace Ford, our pageant manager,
the victim is 21-year-old Amber Middleberry.
Yeah, I got it.
The contestants were rehearsing a production number.
When they brought in the lighting truss,
Amber was tangled up inside of it.
Must've been a showstopper. Hey there, Perlmutter.
Detective. Writer. Cause of death?
Choked from behind with her own sash. Hmm.
Probably between 11:00 P.M. and 1:00 A.M.
How did she end up on the lighting truss?
Near as we can tell, the, uh, lighting truss
was left on stage after yesterday's rehearsal.
Killer probably thought he'd buy some time
by dumping her on it and raising it up to the rafters.
So whoever it was must have known
how to use the stage equipment. Nah,
the lift controls, they're on a touch screen.
Pretty easy to operate.
When was she last seen alive? Last night.
Contestants—they all went to a dinner to honor Victor Baron.
10:30, the party wrapped,
and they were all limoed back here to the hotel.
Amber used her key card at 10:43 P.M.
to get into her hotel room.
After that, she, uh, wound up here.
Detective, there's something you should see.
A black sequin?
Part of one. I found it in her hair.
Okay, so the killer might have transferred it
when he strangled her.
Let's find out who had access to this ballroom last night.
And let's also talk to the pageant manager.
I want to see if any of the girls' outfits
match with this sequin. Will do.
So does Amber Middleberry have any family?
Yeah. Just her, uh, dad.
She started when she was 9...
Little Miss Wholesome.
Oh, I was against the whole idea at first,
but Amber's mom had a bug about it, and, uh,
and after her mother died...
I think it just helped her feel closer to her.
Did your daughter have any enemies that you know of?
No, of course not. Everybody loved Amber.
Well, what about the other contestants?
Were there any rivalries?
She went way back with some of these girls.
They— even after she made it to the semifinals,
everybody was hugging her, and they were—
They were calling her the front-runner, and, uh...
This pageant, this one... was her dream.
When was the last time you talked with her?
Yesterday morning. I, uh, I tried to call her last night.
I knew that dinner thing was over.
I wanted to wish her luck, you know,
but... she didn't answer the phone.
And what time was that?
A little before 11:00.
I, uh... I thought she must have gone to sleep,
but she must have left her room
and come down here for some reason.
Dan.
I am so sorry.
We're gonna get the bastard who did this.
You have my word. Thank you, Mr. Baron.
Detectives, a word upstairs if you don't mind.
This is a dark day.
A sad chapter in the history
of Baron's All-American Beauty Pageant.
Victor, this is just awful.
My wife Kayla.
You might recognize her
as Baron's All-American beauty, 1995. Yes, of course.
Nice to meet you.
Nice to meet you, yes.
This is just devastating, for us and—and for the girls.
We... we're like family.
How well did you know her?
Um, sh-she was a sweet girl, a hell of a violinist.
Yes, she was.
Mark my words—I am putting the entire weight
of the Baron empire behind this investigation.
Anything you need, just say the word.
Detective, I know, uh, you have to do your thing.
Uh, I'm just hoping,
uh, since we are airing the pageant live this Friday,
if we could minimize the press, you know,
to be fair to the other girls.
We're gonna have to be fair to our victim first.
And speaking of press, could we get rid of the cameras?
This is, after all, a murder investigation
not a reality show. We, um, we film everything...
Behind the scenes at the pageant.
We like to catch the girls talking about each other,
let them confess their hopes and fears.
You get the glamour, but you also get the underbelly.
People love the underbelly. Yes, they do.
But maybe this isn't the time.
So were all the girls staying at the hotel?
That's right. Okay, I'll need access to Amber's room.
We'll also need hotel security tapes.
- Now were those cameras recording last night's dinner? - Of course.
Okay, we'll need the footage.
We'll also need to interview all of the pageant contestants.
I'll have Candace give you anything you need.
Great. Thank you very much.
It was nice to meet you. Come again.
Oh, no, we don't—
We don't want them to come again, no.
Small-town girl comes to New York for the fairy tale,
ends up with the horror story. Pageants aren't fairy tales.
They're demanding, high-pressure competitions
that bring out the very best and the very worst in people.
That is the voice of experience.
Oh, my God. You were a beauty queen.
No. I had a roommate freshman year—Debbie Winokur.
It was like living with Elle Woods on steroids.
Well, then...
This ought to bring back some memories.
You're slouching. Winners never slouch.
Castle, they're everywhere.
Smells like a perfume counter at a department store.
Beats the usual lowlifes and nut jobs.
I don't know if you can say
that nut jobs and beauty queens are mutually exclusive.
Yeah, but none of 'em connect to the murder.
- I checked the sequin against all their dresses... - I bet you did.
And none of 'em are a match.
Okay, look at the footage from the dinner.
Let's make sure that the dresses we checked
are the ones they actually wore.
Hmm. Watch a parade of beautiful women in evening attire?
Yeah, I can do that. I bet you can.
Hey, so I've been interviewing these ladies...
I bet you did. About their alibis last night.
- Anyway, there's someone that you should talk to. - Mm-hmm.
So tell 'em
what you told me about what happened after dinner.
When we got back to the hotel,
I wanted to go work out a couple of my dance moves.
I'm one of the semifinalists, so I get to perform
in the broadcast. Congratulations.
Thanks. I'm doing an interpretive dance
to JLo's "I'm Into You."
And then what happened?
I changed into sweats and went to the stage,
and that's when I heard it.
You heard what?
Uh, a fight.
It was coming from the dressing room.
It was Amber and some guy.
Did you see the guy? The door was closed.
It started getting loud, so I bolted.
But now I wish I had done something.
I mean... maybe he's the one who killed her.
His voice, did you recognize it?
No.
What were they arguing about?
"How could you do this to me? You have no right.
Who do you think you are?" Stuff like that.
It kinda sounded like he was her boyfriend.
So that was Amber's dad.
He said he didn't know anything about a boyfriend.
Neither did any of the other girls.
Maybe she was keeping it a secret.
He said, if anyone knew what was going on in Amber's life,
it was, uh, Justin Hankel, Amber's pageant consultant.
I coached her on her routine, interviews,
oversaw stylists, makeup, clothing, violin lessons,
glamour shots— everything she needed to win.
The two of you must have spent a
lot of time together. Well, that's what it takes.
Today's pageants are not just about beauty.
They're about brains, talent, social issues.
And what, with the money and the exposure at stake,
winning one of the majors can launch a career.
What about a boyfriend? Was she in a relationship?
No boyfriends. That is a rule for my clients,
and Amber was no exception.
She knew that she needed to focus 100% of her energy
on the pageant.
You know, the night that she died, she got into an argument.
Any idea with who?
No. The last time I saw her was before her dinner.
But like I told that other detective,
something was going on.
How so?
She'd been off the last couple of days, upset.
And I went to pick her up for a costume fitting,
and it looked like she had been crying.
Did you ask why?
She said that someone was trying to take advantage of her.
I asked her who, but she said she would handle it.
It j—it wasn't like her not to confide in me.
Could it have been one of the other contestants?
There's a lot of pressure on these girls to win.
And it can get really... "political" between them.
Do you think it's possible political turned deadly?
I don't know. Winning means fame and fortune.
No one remembers the runner-up.
Besides, people have killed for less.
- That still doesn't explain who she was arguing with. - Guys.
I got something.
One of the girls?
Just watch. Ever since I was a little girl...
This is from Baron's dinner last night.
That's our victim, Amber.
And I just feel so very honored to be here.
She's laying it on thick for Victor Baron.
But that's not the interesting part.
Now watch this.
Ah. There.
See that?
Look at her face.
Looks like whatever good-guy sitcom star Bobby Stark said,
she didn't like it. Don't just look at her face.
Look at his tux.
Black sequins.
Yo.
Bobby Stark's blazer,
courtesy of the costume lady at the pageant.
And the broken black sequin? Perfect match.
Bam, said the costume lady.
Ooh, she's not the only lady saying bam
when it comes to Bobby Stark. Does he have a record?
Uh, no criminal charges,
but Mr. Stark has quite the reputation.
Three women filed restraining orders against Bobby Stark
in the last year, all for unwanted advances.
How come I didn't hear about this on "TMZ"?
Oh, word is Stark paid
quite a bit of cash to make it all go away.
Oh, it gets better. I was talking to Candace Ford
and a couple of the other girls.
They said that Bobby Stark had started paying
quite a lot of attention to Amber.
Maybe it was unwanted attention.
Maybe Bobby didn't know how to take no for an answer.
You lookin' at me? Hmm?
You lookin' at me? Mr. Stark, I'm detective—
Nobody else around. You must be lookin' at me.
Mr. Stark. Hmm?
Have a seat, please. Yeah. Hey, you like that bit?
That's my, uh, Bobby de Niro.
Playing a homicidal maniac. Sold it though, right?
See, I got this range as an actor.
You probably don't know about that because I'm always typecast
as Mr. Nice-Guy Dad. Yeah,
well, I don't think you'll have that problem
now that you're a murder suspect.
Murder suspect? What? Is she joking? You joking?
What was your relationship with Amber Middleberry?
Oh, come on. Are you serious? I didn't kill her.
If anything, I was trying to recruit her.
Recruit her? For what? Yeah, for my, uh, Goddess Train.
The Goddess Train? It's my own little private pageant.
And how did Amber respond to this oh-so-enticing offer?
You know what? She hadn't seen the light yet,
but she was coming around.
I could always tell the innocent act when I see it.
Besides, who wouldn't want to ride the Bobby rocket?
Everyone from what we hear.
Mr. Stark, here's what I think happened—
After dinner, you invited Amber back to your dressing room,
and she had the bad sense to agree.
And that's when you tried to make another pitch
to get her on board your Goddess Train. When she shot you down,
you flew into a rage and you strangled her.
You were rehearsing on that stage all week.
You knew all of the equipment— Just stop.
Would you just—just stop?
You guys are crazy, you know that?
Okay, well, then maybe you can explain
why we found this broken sequin from your jacket
on her body.
Where were you between 11:00 and 1:00 A.M. last night?
Uh... I don't know.
I'm a little foggy on that, actually.
I was, uh, partying pretty hard. Who were you with?
I'm not sure, but...
Whoever it was, we were definitely using strawberry oil.
Okay, so let me get this straight.
You don't remember where you were
or what you were doing last night?
That's bad, right?
That guy's dropped more pills than a 3-fingered pharmacist.
I just can't believe that someone who's given
so much great fatherly advice on TV could be guilty of murder.
Well, he's a drug-addled predator
who left physical evidence on the body.
Well, when you put it that way...
Hey, Esposito. Yo.
We need to reconstruct Stark's evening.
Check his phone records, double-check security cameras
at the hotel.
We need hard evidence to place him at the crime scene.
I got something that might help.
Amber had her violin with her at dinner,
but it wasn't with the body
or anywhere at the crime scene. So where'd it go?
Well, we know Amber went to the hotel,
so maybe she dropped it off there.
Except uniforms inventoried the room. It wasn't there,
and her dad and consultant didn't see it either.
So maybe she had it when she was killed.
And Bobby Stark disposed of it.
Check trash cans, dumpsters, and sewer drains by the hotel.
If someone saw him ditch the violin,
we can connect him to the murder. Right on.
Oh, beauty pageant intrigue.
Some things never change. Ah!
Oh, here it is.
I didn't know you competed. Well, that's because I didn't win.
Oh. But I will tell you, the women I competed against—
Just as cutthroat as they are now. What was your talent?
The way I wore a sweater.
Hi, honey. Hey, Alexis.
What's wrong?
Ashley made his decision.
Uh-oh.
Stanford?
No.
He decided to go to school here in New York.
What's not good about that?
Stanford was his dream.
I don't want to stand in the way of that.
He'll just end up hating me for it.
And this could be the most important decision of his life,
so I made a decision, too. I broke up with him.
Oh, baby.
No, it's okay.
Well, she's right, you know?
I mean, odds are, it won't work out.
She's just being practical. Relationships aren't math problems.
You don't solve them by being practical.
I mean, what happens when she meets her soul mate,
but she doesn't risk it because it's not practical?
Okay, then what about Hawaii? Earrings?
Ooh. Lingerie?
Things you buy a woman. I used to kill on "Pyramid."
It's my 30th anniversary.
Oh, sir, congratulations.
30 years of marriage, and you don't know what to buy her?
If you stayed married long enough, you'd know,
it's hard to stay original after the first ten.
That's fair. So what's the secret to your success?
There's no secret. Just...
Keep showing up.
Any luck on Bobby Stark?
Yeah, but you're not gonna like it.
Paparazzi snapped photos of him
going into the Tribeca Grand Hotel
at 11:30 with a brunette wearing Jackie O. Glasses.
At 1:00 A.M., he left, at which point
he relocated to a gentlemen's club to watch mud wrestling.
Amber left her room at 11:00.
Where was he between 11:00 and 11:30?
In a cab on his way to Tribeca.
And we know this for a fact?
Yeah, he was tweeting photos of his manhood along the way.
And that's how you trend on Twitter.
So the sequin must have broken off
onto Amber after he bumped up against her.
Cut him loose. He's not our guy. Right.
Which means we are dead in the water. I wouldn't go that far.
Her stolen violin? We found it.
- Where? - Dumped in a garbage bin behind the hotel.
Disposed of by our killer,
just not the killer we thought. Did we get prints?
Yeah, Amber Middleberry's
and one other set belonging to the lovely,
the talented...
Contestant from Georgia.
Which one was... Oh.
Amber and I have been friends since little Miss Spangles.
Why would you think I killed her?
Because your prints were all over the violin case, Joy.
And she had it with her when she came back
from dinner last night.
I held it for her while she fixed her tights.
They were on the violin, too.
She wasn't even supposed to be a semifinalist,
but then she nailed all her pageant questions.
It was supposed to be her weakness,
but she blew everyone away. She was going to win.
So then you killed her and you dumped her violin.
No, that is not what happened.
Last night when we went back to the hotel, I saw her
go into her room, drop off her stuff, and then leave again.
But she left so fast, her door didn't close all the way,
so I went to shut it, and that's when I saw her violin.
She just left it there. It was like a sign.
I thought...
Joy Jones, how badly do you want this?
How badly did you want it?
More than anything.
I'm 25.
I'm old.
This is the last year I can qualify.
I thought if I took her violin, it might throw her off enough
in the talent finals that I could beat her.
But that wasn't enough for you, was it? You thought,
why not just take Amber out of the contest completely?
No. All I did was take her violin,
and when I found out she was dead, I panicked.
I thought someone might find out, so I threw it away.
That's a pretty good act, Joy,
but the judges just aren't buying it.
No, I swear. I didn't have to kill Amber
to get her out of the pageant.
I found something in her violin case,
something awful.
And what did you find?
The reason she was murdered.
If these got out, it would've ruined her.
She would've been kicked off the circuit for good.
Oh, my God.
She is absolutely, totally...
Naked. There's a note on the back of that one.
"You know my price. Pay up or I will destroy you."
So she was being blackmailed.
Looks like somebody made good on their threat.
Beauty queens and naked pictures—
as American as socialites and sex tapes.
Amber dreamt of winning this pageant,
why would she take those photos?
I mean, she knew the chance that she was taking.
Well, just because you're smart and beautiful
doesn't mean you have good judgment.
I didn't mean me.
Just got off with Amber's father.
That was a tough conversation.
You mean, he didn't know about the photos?
And Amber didn't tell him about the blackmailer either
or try to borrow money.
Well, maybe she paid off the blackmailer on her own.
Not an option. Any money Amber did have
went to paying for shoes, gowns, and spray tans.
She only had 50 bucks in the bank.
And she didn't have any recent withdrawals either.
Justin said that she was upset. Maybe that's because
she didn't have the money to make it go away.
Yeah, but then why kill her?
I mean, a smart blackmailer would give her the time
to get the cash. Not if she threatened to go to the police,
forcing him to take deadly action.
Deadly action— that's a good title. I rechecked her phone.
There's no record of any unusual calls.
I figure the blackmailer contacted her
through her hotel phone, that way he couldn't be traced.
Castle, have you taken a look at these photos?
Only in so far as it pertains to the investigation.
Look at the lighting and the composition.
Whoever took these knew something about photography.
A professional. I mean, it happens all the time.
Girl gets a session with a pro, they finish, he offers
to take a few art shots, she's desperate for the cash,
he promises he'll never show it to anybody...
Until she makes it big, in which case,
they suddenly surface. Esposito,
let's get ahold of the pageant consultant.
Let's get a list of all the photographers
that Amber's had sessions with.
One of them might be our blackmailer. All right.
This must have been what she was so upset about.
She knew, if the pageant found out, it would've all been over.
It is all over. But why didn't she just tell me?
Do you have any idea
who might have taken these photographs?
With that hairstyle, it must have been six months ago.
I'll have to check my calendar.
So uniforms talked
to the pageant girls that Amber was closest to.
She didn't tell them about the photos either.
Well, she probably thought they'd use it against her.
Beckett, you're a woman, right?
Sir, I have no idea what to get your wife.
Still no luck on the gift?
Keep coming up empty.
The best thing to give a woman is something she said she wanted
when she didn't think you were listening.
What if I wasn't listening?
Gift certificate?
Beckett.
So according to her pageant consultant,
Amber was in the city about six months ago for a photo shoot.
He thinks they were taken around the same time.
And who was the shoot with?
A photographer named Dax Lattimer. Does he have a record?
Negative, but I asked around, and the guy's
no stranger to dirty pictures.
On top of headshots, he also freelances for adult magazines.
Well, sounds like our guy. Where is he now?
He's at a studio in the East Village.
I'm heading there now. Okay. I'll have Ryan meet you.
Sure, I remember Amber. Very sweet gal.
I took some headshots for her.
You take anything else while you were at it?
Maybe some snaps of her wearing nothing but a smile?
Amber wasn't the type. She was all about the glamour.
So what's this about?
She was murdered.
And we think whoever killed her took this picture right here.
Yeah, well, I didn't take this. I'm not that mediocre.
Really? These were shot around the time you worked with Amber.
And we all know you do more than just pets and families.
Hey, we all have to pay the bills.
And with Amber's star on the rise,
that photo's worth some serious coin. Pretty girl like that,
alone here with you in the studio?
Hey, you have to believe me. I didn't take this photograph.
- Besides, we weren't alone. She was with someone. - Who?
Some boyfriend. The guy was a real creep, too.
Amber didn't have a boyfriend.
Well, she did when she was here.
In fact, he fancied himself a photographer, kept telling me
I should shoot Amber in natural light.
This boyfriend have a name?
Jerry. Jeremy. Something like that.
Mr. Lattimer, where were you night before last
between 11:00 P.M. and 1:00 A.M.? At home with my wife,
trying to rock my colicky son to sleep.
It's a doorman building, so you can check.
Okay, thanks.
Amber's dad said that she used to have a boyfriend—
Jeremy Keiper.
Keiper? Was he creepy? Yeah, well, her dad thought so.
As far as he knows, they broke up late last year
because she realized that he was holding her back.
The dad thinks that the boyfriend's
still in Illinois. Well, that's the beauty of blackmail—
You can do it from anywhere. Blackmail, maybe. But not murder.
Why don't we find out if Keiper paid her a visit lately?
On it.
Bad boyfriends and pageant queens?
This is like Debbie Winokur all over again.
You having flashbacks?
It was my own private Vietnam.
Our place smelled of hair spray,
perfume, and cigarettes.
I'm surprised that we didn't spontaneously combust.
I love the smell of hair spray in the morning.
It smells like... victory.
Excuse me, Mr. Castle?
Ashley.
I'm sorry to bug you at work, but Alexis established
a-a no calls, no contact policy. She told me.
Look, I-I made a big mistake.
I thought if I chose Stanford,
A-Alexis would think that I was blowing her off.
I-instead, she's mad at me because I chose her
over where I want to go to school.
So now I'm going to Stanford, which is where I wanted to go
in the first place, but— but if you call her and tell her that,
she'll be even angrier with you for
ignoring her boundaries. Exactly. Look, I think Alexis and I
can make the whole long-distance thing work.
I really do. Would you tell her that?
Would you talk to her for me?
Ashley, I-I appreciate, it was probably very hard for you
to come down and talk to me today,
but I just don't think it's very appropriate for me to get—
Mr. Castle, have you ever been crazy about someone
who was determined to push you away?
Hey, Castle, uh... Oh, sorry, guys.
Uh...
No, it...
It's o—um...
Ashley, I'm—I'm sorry. I do have to go.
Please just, um, think about it, okay?
Okay.
What's that about?
He wants me to advocate for him.
Oh. Well, that's sweet.
Yeah. And awkward.
Mostly awkward. Yo, Beckett!
I just got off the phone with Jeremy Keiper's mom.
Turns out Jeremy moved to New York last month,
said he was going to "make something of himself."
Looks like he made himself into a blackmailer and a killer.
Jeremy Keiper, NYPD. Open up.
Mr. Keiper?
Anybody here?
Beckett.
Looks like someone had a hard time letting go.
Castle.
This is a classic murder-suicide.
Jeremy blackmails his ex-girlfriend,
not because he needs the money,
but because clearly, he's obsessed with her.
Amber rejects him and his scheme-y schemes.
He flips, he snaps, he kills her, and then,
faced with the reality of what he's done, hangs himself.
- Only one problem with your theory, Castle. - Which is?
This wasn't a suicide. This wasn't?
If he'd hanged himself,
the marks on his neck would angle upwards.
Yes, which they do. Yes, but if he was strangled,
the marks would go straight across. This guy's got both.
Then the hanging was a cover up for the strangulation.
Well, there's also peri-mortem bruising
on the arms and across the ribs.
I'm guessing there was a struggle. Estimated time of death?
Well, judging by temperature and lividity,
- he was killed half a day before Amber Middleberry. - Before Amber?
Yes, before!
Now can you please move? You're in my light.
This doesn't make any sense. If he didn't kill Amber...
How do a blackmailer and his victim both end up dead?
Yo, check this out.
His hard drive's been wiped.
That's our connection, Castle. It's the one thing
that Amber and Jeremy had in common... those photos.
Someone didn't want them to see the light of day.
Amber's dad had no idea this was going on with his daughter.
She didn't even mention Jeremy's name in the last six months.
Is there anything else that Jeremy and Amber
could've been involved with while
they were together? No, not that he can recall.
These pictures, by today's standards,
are—are downright tasteful.
How do these get you killed? It can't be about naked pictures.
Something else must have been going on. Unless...
- Unless what? - Unless Jeremy wasn't the only blackmailer.
What if he had a partner? I mean, we know Amber
was arguing with someone the night she was killed.
We know it couldn't have been Jeremy,
because he was already dead. Why would the partner kill Jeremy?
Maybe they had a falling out.
Maybe Jeremy decided he couldn't hurt Amber,
but the partner still wanted his payday.
So he takes out Jeremy and decides
to go after Amber himself? But Amber decides to call his bluff.
She says she's gonna contact the police.
Now the blackmailer has no choice. He has to kill her
and get rid of all the evidence of blackmail.
Ryan.
Give me everything you got on Jeremy Keiper.
I'm sorry, baby.
Whoa. It's late. I'll leave you to it.
Hey.
Whatcha looking at?
You really miss him, don't ya?
You know I-I hate to interfere—
Since when?
Point taken.
Ashley dropped by the precinct to see me today.
He did? Why?
He wanted me to intercede on his behalf.
What'd he say?
Well, he looked about as happy as you do,
and he wanted me to tell you
that he has decided to go to Stanford.
Oh.
And...
He wants to give a long-distance relationship
a shot.
He thinks it could work.
What do you think?
I think that nothing is certain.
And you could be ending something
that might have worked if you had just...
Given it a little more time.
What if I'm just cutting my losses
on something that was never meant to be?
Well, then we can be the father-daughter version
of "Grey Gardens."
Life is a journey,
and there is no predicting the outcome.
The only thing you can control are your choices,
and they'll... they'll define who you are.
I would just hate to see you so focused
on the problem right in front of you
that you... completely miss the entire picture.
That's pretty good advice.
Yeah. Yeah, actually it is, isn't it?
Yeah.
Remind me to get you a subscription
to a girlie magazine for Christmas. Oh, that is so thoughtful,
but I'm not looking at the naked girl.
What are you looking at?
Everything but the naked girl.
We were so focused on Amber,
we almost missed the entire picture.
What if Amber and Jeremy were killed not because of
who was in this photo, but because of
where the photo was taken? Anything look familiar?
Sure does.
You can thank me later.
Talk about a motive for murder.
If these photos got out to the tabloids...
It would destroy everything.
NYPD.
The memorial for Amber should be simple, tasteful...
And very, very classy. Yes.
Detective.
Is there something I can help you with?
Yes, we need to ask you a few questions.
Ask away.
Fine.
Tell us about the blackmail
and the murder of Amber Middleberry.
Shut the cameras off. Go, now!
I thought you said that everybody loves the underbelly.
This— What's going on, Victor?
What's going on is, we finally figured out who,
aside from Amber...
would be nervous about these photos. What photos?
Oh, my God. Oh, my God! Victor.
Oh, my God! I-it's not what it looks like.
It's not what it looks like? This is...
This is our house in the Hamptons.
This is our bed. It's our vacation bed.
Right underneath the $2-million Picard that
you purchased at the auction, which just happens to be
the companion to this painting
here in your office. We read all about it
on the spread they did on you in "Today's Architect."
Looks as though you were hoisted on your own Picard.
I can explain. We agreed, Victor. Never again.
It was just a weekend.
Just a weekend? I have friends in the Hamptons.
What if somebody saw? I won't be humiliated
because you can't keep it in your pants! No one saw.
No one saw. No, you took photos so everyone could see.
I didn't take those pictures. Here's what I think happened—
Amber was being blackmailed.
She couldn't pay, so she came to you for help.
Only you had a lot to lose, and those pictures,
they have a way of getting out.
So instead of paying off her blackmailer, you killed him,
and then you came back here
and took care of her. That's not what happened.
The cameras aren't rolling any longer, Mr. Baron.
You can drop the act.
It's not an act. Amber wasn't being blackmailed.
The conniving bitch was blackmailing me.
She was blackmailing you?
She showed me the pictures. She told me that she had
her boyfriend come and take 'em while I was away.
Wait. You left her alone in my house?
I had a meeting in the city. I was coming right back.
How could you be so stupid, Victor?
She said if helped her win the pageant,
the photos would never see the light of day.
"You know the price. Pay up or I'll destroy you."
It wasn't to Amber. It was from Amber.
She was still with her boyfriend.
They were in it together. So then what did you do?
I slipped her the pageant questions.
Why do you think she was doing so well? You ass!
Whoa! Whoa. Hey! Hey!
Mr. Baron, where were you between 11:00 and 1:00 A.M.
the night of the murder? After the reception,
I had drinks with councilman Bollinger.
Uh, I got home at, uh, at 1:00 A.M.
Kayla was with me, weren't you, babe?
Kayla, is this true? Were you with him?
Oh.
Yes.
Who else knew, Victor?
Who do I need to be ashamed in front of?
No one else knew. Well, someone else must've,
otherwise two people wouldn't be dead.
The only other person I told was Candace.
I told her what Amber was trying to do—
to me, to the pageant.
I-I-I told her to take care of it,
to make the problem go away.
Maybe she did.
I don't want to see any fingerprints on those glasses.
Being careful of fingerprints, are we, Candace?
We want everything to be perfect.
This pageant really is your baby.
You noticed? 17 flawless years.
So then you would do anything to protect it.
We know that Mr. Baron told you about the blackmail.
And we know that he asked you to handle it.
Kill her? I wanted to kill Baron.
17 flawless years, and he wants me to give her the answers
so his little fling can wear the crown?
But it was either that
or that snake destroys everything.
- Where were you the night that Amber was killed? - Please don't.
Ms. Ford— I was with someone.
Who?
I can't.
Candace, if you have an alibi— Bobby Stark.
I was with him at the Tribeca Grand.
And the worst part is...
He doesn't even remember.
Tribeca Grand confirms that Stark was with Candace
at the time of the murder.
She did smell a little bit like strawberry oil.
Baron's alibi checks out, too.
Which leaves us without a suspect.
Okay, get into it with Baron's lawyers.
Just because Candace didn't kill them
- doesn't mean he didn't hire someone else to do it. - Right.
Blind, naked ambition— I think
even your Debbie Winokur would've been appalled.
Yeah, she would've.
Debbie wanted to be a beauty queen
because she believed in the ideals of beauty.
She wanted to be beautiful on the
inside and outside. I thought you didn't like her.
Well, deep down, behind all of the makeup and the hair,
she wasn't terrible.
She was just a miserable person to live with.
Unlike Amber, winning wouldn't have meant a thing to her
if she had to cheat to do it.
Yeah, talk about choices that change your life.
When do you make that choice?
When does winning become
more important than your soul? I don't know.
You have to be pretty cold and calculating
to make some of the choices Amber did. Cold and calculating?
What?
Amber was cold and calculating.
Yeah, so?
So all of those people we talked to about her,
one of them is lying.
Tragedy... struck the Baron's all-American pageant
with the untimely passing of our Illinois All-American,
Ms. Amber Middleberry.
I was fortunate to have worked closely with Amber.
She meant the world to me.
Well, then why did you kill her?
What? I didn't kill Amber.
You're lying. You've been lying to us the whole time.
You told us that she was upset, that she was feeling
like she was being taken advantage of and threatened.
But she was the one doing the threatening.
There was no reason for her to be upset.
You know, you're interrupting a dress rehearsal. Okay?
I don't even know what you two are talking about.
Oh, yes, you do. You got on to the blackmail.
You thought the old boyfriend was taking advantage
of your prized client, so you confronted him.
We ran your credit cards. We know
about the taxi trip you took to Jeremy's apartment.
So tell us, when you killed Amber's boyfriend,
did you know that Amber was in on the scheme?
Justin, stop.
Oh.
Where are you going, aah!
A word of advice, Justin.
When the lady says stop,
stop.
Justin confessed to everything.
His last three clients were losers.
Amber was supposed to be his comeback, and if she didn't win,
he was through.
Apparently he found the same naked photos that we did,
thought that her ex-boyfriend was trying to exploit her.
He was worried, if they called the cops,
that her secret would get out, and they'd both be ruined.
So he decided to handle it on his own.
Unfortunately, Jeremy was drunk,
he got violent, and Justin ended up killing him.
And he staged it like it was a suicide.
Once Amber found out, she threatened to turn him in,
and he killed her. That's a whole pageant of bad choices.
Good work, you two.
Uh, good work, you all. Thank you.
Mm. I see a beauty queen worthy of a crown.
Always the charmer, Rick. Baby, what you doin' here?
You know I was just comin' to swoop you up.
Yeah, well, I know how you lose all sense of time
- when you're working. I figured I'd meet you here. - Mm-hmm.
Do you guys have any big plans?
Dinner and dancing with the best husband in Manhattan,
especially since he gave me that gift this morning.
Oh, what did you end up giving her?
I followed your advice, Castle.
I thought about some of the things
Evelyn said she wanted the past couple of years...
And my gift to her is, next year,
I'm retiring from the force. We're gonna go traveling.
We're gonna go to all the romantic places.
Wait. Are— are you serious, boss? You really want to retire?
I haven't accomplished
everything I wanted to on the job, but I've done enough.
It's time for me to move on. Best gift ever—more Roy.
Mm-hmm.
Look, I taught you guys everything I know
about doing this job, all right?
You're gonna be fine without me.
Oh, for crying out loud, lose the long faces. Smile, please.
That's an order.
Hey, you kids take care, all right?
You guys behave now. You have a good time.
Congratulations, you guys. Good night. Thank you.
Bye. Happy anniversary.
Good night.
Good night, captain. What the hell did you say to him?
Nothing. No, I just told him
to listen to what his wife wanted. Damn, Castle.
How can you th— I di—
There's no way—
Castle, let me let you in on a little secret.
Captain Montgomery retires all the time.
Just give it a week or two.
He's like the Brett Favre of the NYPD.
Trust me. He's not going anywhere.
Not going anywhere.
Hey, so I've been meaning to ask you,
did Alexis make a decision about Ashley?
Oh, she did, actually.
She decided it was, uh, worth the risk.
And she's going to just keep showing up.
That's a good choice.
See you tomorrow.
Ashley, what are you doing here?
Hey, Mr. Castle. Hey, dad. Guess what.
What?
I'm going to Stanford.
What? I'm applying for early admission.
And since I've been taking extra classes
each semester since my freshman year,
I have enough credits to graduate in the fall.
What?
Yeah, this way, Ash and I will be together in January,
in college.
What?
That was actually her idea, sir.
What?
Sync by YYeTs.net Corrected by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com