CALLEN
When we returned to NCIS, Sam and Kensi were still out investigating the crime scene. Eric was busy researching the backgrounds of the convenience store clerk, and Maggie and I stood over his shoulder, watching as he worked.
"Where exactly is Nate?" Maggie wondered aloud. "I kinda miss him getting inside our heads."
"Hetty won't tell us," Eric declared. "Apparently, she thought Nate should've told us himself and that, until he did, we were left to guessing."
"That sounds like Hetty," Maggie grumbled.
"I only did it out of respect for Mr. Getz," a very familiar voice said from behind us. Maggie grimaced and held her breath.
"Hetty's right behind you," I whispered to Maggie.
"Damn straight I am!" Hetty declared.
Maggie coughed loudly and turned around slowly. "I was merely wishing that I had Nate here to talk to. I think he might be able to help me."
"With the current case?" Hetty wanted to know.
"No," Maggie continued slowly. "With…my last one."
"Ah." Hetty's expression went from vaguely amused to completely serious. "Well, I'm sure we can get him on video conference, if you would like."
"Why do you need to talk to Nate?" I wanted to know curiously.
"I'll explain later," Maggie told me quietly. "And Hetty, thanks for the offer. I will let you know if I want to set up a call with Nate."
"Make it a 'when', rather than an 'if'," Hetty advised her, turning to leave the room. "And make it soon."
"Okay, I've got everything you need to know about Rachel Wilson," Eric declared. "Up until a week ago, she lived in one of the crappiest apartment complexes in L.A., but when that large deposit showed up in her checking account, she moved to Reynolds Village, where you visited her."
"That apartment was really nice," Maggie commented. "She couldn't afford it until she got that money."
"Where did the money come from, Eric?" I asked.
"It was transferred from an offshore account," he explained. "Whoever this guy is, he's not a pro."
"Why do you say that?" Maggie wanted to know, folding her arms across her chest.
"Because he didn't cover his trail. His name is all over the account. Ladies and gentlemen, meet Hank Fields." Eric hit a button on his screen, and a mug shot popped up on the computer screen. "This guy has been arrested multiple times for armed robbery and grand theft auto. The thing is, this guy doesn't have five-thousand dollars. He's completely broke. All his other bank accounts are empty."
"So where did a broke criminal get the money?" Maggie wondered.
"And what did he pay Rachel Wilson for?" I asked myself.
"Let's bring her in and lean on her a little," Maggie suggested.
In an hour, Rachel Wilson was sitting in the boathouse interrogation room, fidgeting nervously. She had practically panicked when Maggie and I showed up and announced that we were really federal agents investigating the murder the Lt. Commander. She kept insisting that she had done nothing wrong, but she was most evidently nervous.
Kensi, Deeks, and Sam walked in just before Maggie began to interrogate Rachel.
"Already back in the interrogation room?" Sam laughed at Maggie. "This I cannot wait to see."
"Why?" Deeks wanted to know.
"Maggie has a record," I explained. "She's good at getting them to crack."
"Ha!" Deeks laughed short to himself and then looked around at everyone else who was dead serious.
Maggie stared him down. "Give me a time limit," she told him.
"A time limit?" Deeks repeated uncertainly.
"How long do you think it will take me to get her to talk?" Maggie wanted to know, putting her hands on her hips. It took everything I had not to kiss her right then and there; somehow, however, I managed to resist.
"Fifteen minutes," Deeks bet.
"I can do it in five," she declared confidently.
"What're the stakes?" Deeks wanted to know.
"Thirty bucks?" Maggie suggested.
"Deal."
As Maggie headed into the interrogation room, I shook my head at Deeks. "You're going to lose," I promised him. "Maggie is the best at what she does."
"Better than you?" Deeks wanted to know.
"Call her a female Callen, if you will," I advised him.