AN: I just want to say all the inquiries I've gotten about this story have made me feel equal parts happy and guilty! I'm sorry for the slow updating, I have been trying to fit all the pieces of this together, so I stepped away from it. However, I do finish everything I start, sometimes it just takes me longer than I'd like. Thanks to everyone who is still sticking with me!
XXXXXX
In the daytime, the house lost whatever characteristics that had made it seem otherworldly at night. Most of the rooms had large windows that let in plenty of light and it seemed much more like the tourist-friendly, historical home that it was meant to be. Nell's comfort level slowly returned to normal, which was a welcome relief after wondering if the night before had completely killed her enthusiasm.
While wandering through the rooms (she had this irrational hope that a prominent clue would jump out at her from nowhere and let her solve Blackwell's murder with little effort), she finally came across Audrey in what seemed to be a sitting room, or perhaps a smaller version of the game room they'd found last night. At its center was a large table probably meant for card games or puzzles. Audrey was halfheartedly dusting some sideboard cupboards and she instantly perked up when she saw Nell, literally tossing the rag aside in her enthusiasm.
"Hi! How can I help you? Please give me a long list of things you need, I'm begging you."
"Anything's better than cleaning, right?" Nell asked, opening a few of the cabinets. Sure enough, they were filled with games and nothing else particularly interesting.
"You guessed it. I can only dust so many things before I get lost in a trance and you're the first person I've seen today besides my co-workers."
Nell took a seat at the table, running her hands over the polished oak. "I'm sure the rest of my team will be along soon enough to bother you. Could I request that you throw some of them off track?"
Audrey sat across from her, lowering her voice somewhat conspiratorially. "That might be what I'm supposed to do, anyway."
"Duly noted. You know, I admire your ability to play the same role week after week. Do you ever get tired of it?"
Audrey took Nell's friendly tone as invitation to be more open than she normally would have. It was rare that any of the guests questioned what she thought of her job and it was a welcome change from the usual barrage of questions demanding to know if evidence 'X' pointed to killer 'Y'. "It doesn't get too repetitive because we mix up the scenarios of who the killer is often enough, but this is a pretty slow weekend for us since you're such a small group. That means less to do for the guests and more upkeep for the house. That basically translates to a lot more house projects, especially with the recent renovations. Davis still doesn't let us clean anything valuable, but things like dusting or vacuuming, there's always plenty of that to go around. Needless to say, I enjoy it more when we're fully booked and I'm not stuck being…well, a maid." Her gaze shifted past Nell to the doorway behind her. "Hey…Callen, right?"
"At your service," he said, overly chivalrous as he bestowed upon her his most charming smile (Nell was amazed that he didn't bow). "Or are you at mine?"
"Oh, please," Nell's tone was the vocal equivalent of rolling her eyes. "You can tone it down. She's not going to tell you who did it, no matter how charming you think you are."
"I don't know about that," Audrey countered, grinning at both of them. "I might be swayed. Is there anything in it for me?"
"What would it take?" Callen asked.
"What do you have to offer?" Audrey shot back.
Nell shook her head. It just figured. "If you solve this based on your innate ability to con the staff into talking, I'm outing you to everyone. Don't think that Granger won't happily take credit away from you."
Callen appeared offended – appeared being the key word. "Are you insinuating that I'm not capable of solving this mystery based on detective work alone?"
Nell primly folded her hands on top of the table. "I'm not insinuating anything. I'm saying that's what you're doing – trying to get her to tell you the answer."
"You'll have to forgive Nell," Callen told Audrey. "She's of a highly suspicious nature. To solve this weekend's mystery, she simply needs to work on her investigative techniques – the same techniques I mastered years ago."
Nell gripped her hands together tighter. "I need to what?"
"Work. On. Your. Investigative. Techniques," he repeated, slowly. "And your listening skills, apparently."
She'd yet to figure out how he could be so irritating and endearing at the same time. That was probably what he'd spent years perfecting (forget his superb investigative skills or whatever). "You realize you're making a strong case for me to try and sabotage you, right?"
"She's not that great at losing, either," Callen whispered to Audrey.
"Aren't you supposed to be with Deeks and Granger?" Nell looked pointedly toward the door.
"Deeks is drawing up some kind of 'game plan' or something, I wasn't really paying attention, though I did catch that he wants me to meet him in the foyer soon."
"You could be helping him."
He made a show of taking a seat at the table next to her. "I sure could be."
"Oh, I really feel bad for Deeks today."
"Because I'm going to show him up?"
"No…that's not why."
"I didn't mean to interrupt your conversation, by the way." His words jarred Nell into realizing not only had she been staring at him, but she'd forgotten why she'd wanted to talk to Audrey in the first place.
She quickly turned back to the other woman, hoping she didn't seem too rattled, and pulled out the locket she'd been wondering about since the night before. "I found this and I was hoping you could return it to its rightful owner."
A strange look passed over Audrey's face as she reached out to take the necklace. She opened it to view the picture inside and inhaled a bit shakily. "Where did you find this?"
What to tell…what to tell – Nell decided to admit the truth. After all, Davis was only kidding when he'd talked about kicking them out…right? (She still felt strangely apprehensive.) "I found it in the basement. I know we're not supposed to go down there, but we had electrical issues last night – which I'm sure were part of the experience, right?"
"What?" Audrey sounded as if she weren't really listening, too fascinated by the locket.
Maybe it had been a real electrical problem, then. Or maybe Audrey was a better actress than Nell thought. Either way, Nell shrugged off the problem – old wiring and all that. "I went to check the circuit breakers and I found that on the floor."
Audrey held the locket up, as if to study it in better light. It twisted back and forth on its chain. "You found this in the basement. Last night."
Callen was hearing about this for the first time along with Audrey. Based on her odd reaction, he knew something was going on. "Is that yours?"
Audrey blinked at him a few times, as if remembering he was still in the room with them. "No. This belonged to my friend Eliza." She turned back to Nell. "Do you remember yesterday when I mentioned another girl who worked here that quit? That was Eliza."
"I'm glad you know the owner," Nell said. "You can return it to her."
Audrey didn't respond to that. Callen and Nell exchanged a look – the locket had obviously triggered a strange reaction in the woman playing the part of the hotel's maid.
"Is everything okay?" Callen asked when it became clear that Audrey wasn't going to offer any more information on her own.
Seeing the obvious worry on Audrey's face, Nell gently added, "You can feel comfortable talking to us. I promise."
Callen spared a glance at Nell, wondering if she realized how naturally she could make others feel at ease. It was moments like these that made him wonder why (when it came to field work) she didn't have the same confidence in herself that he did. That their whole team did.
"Eliza was my best friend," Audrey began, wrapping the necklace's chain around her hands. "We worked here together for three years, but we both wanted more out of life. I wanted to be a singer and Eliza dreamed of becoming an actress. A 'real' actress, she liked to say, not a pretend maid, like our roles here. We talked about moving to L.A. and finally decided to take the leap last summer. We gave our notice, packed our things, and two days before we were supposed to leave, Eliza texted me to say she'd changed her mind and she was moving to Seattle with her boyfriend."
Nell tried to imagine how she'd react if a friend did that to her. Well, it'd prove they weren't much of a friend, wouldn't it? "I think I'd be furious."
"Oh, believe me, I was." Audrey's face got darker as she looked out one of the windows. "I had to ask for my job back because I wasn't about to move to a new city alone…I'm not that tough." She laughed, though it was self-deprecating.
"It makes sense that you'd be angry," Nell told her. "And that you wouldn't want to go by yourself."
Audrey flashed her a smile so brief that Nell nearly missed it. "Davis was surprisingly understanding about everything. He let me stay without giving me grief for it. I think he felt sorry for me."
Callen considered her words…might there be another side to the irritable house manager? There must be if he'd let Audrey keep her job without complaint.
It was clear that recounting the story was causing Audrey to relive some painful memories; her entire manner had become increasingly morose. "Eliza texted me a couple times after that saying she was fine and liked Seattle. I eventually got over my anger, because what's the point of holding onto things like that? If she was happy, then fine, she was happy. I wanted to visit, but she kept putting me off, and then she stopped answering my texts altogether. I guess we weren't as close as I'd thought."
The more she talked, the more red flags Callen was counting. "She cut off all contact?"
"Yeah, I thought it was strange, but what could I do? The picture in the necklace is of her and her mom. She didn't have much left of her parents, they died when she was a kid." Audrey ran her finger over the side of the heart. "I don't understand why she didn't ask me to look for it. I might have found it months ago and mailed it to her."
Callen had seen it in hundreds of faces over the years – what it looked like when someone was holding back what they really wanted to say. He didn't know the reason, but he knew there was more to the story, and he got straight to the point. "What aren't you telling us?"
Audrey fiddled with the loose clasp of the necklace. "The way things ended between us was…difficult to accept. Part of me wondered if her boyfriend was to blame. She'd been seeing him for a little while before we were planning to move and she never told me his name. I only knew that he was older and she didn't talk about him much. It was their break-up that made her finally agree to move to L.A. But they got back together and she changed her plans and went to Seattle with him. I've always suspected he had something to do with not letting her talk to me much after they moved."
The more details Nell got, the less she liked them, though she still tried to reassure Audrey, "Maybe if you tell her about the locket, she'll respond this time."
"I hope so. It meant a lot to her. In fact, I think I'll go try calling her now." Audrey thanked Nell again before leaving the room.
Callen and Nell both knew they were thinking the same thing – years at their job meant Audrey's story was far too familiar.
He finally broke the silence, somewhat reluctantly. "We're not the only ones thinking it, Nell. You saw the worry on her face; she didn't want to say the possibility out loud, but it's clear she's wondered if something happened to her friend. Eliza disappeared one day without any notice? Never called, only texted? Left one of her most personal possessions behind and never asked Audrey to look for it?"
Nell shook her head, not because she didn't believe it, but because she didn't want to believe it. "It's too damn sad, Callen." She tried to imagine any other option. "Maybe she moved on with her life and wanted to cut ties with this place. Maybe we're too suspicious about everything, in general."
"Maybe. Let's see if Audrey's able to get in touch with Eliza."
"If she can't, I'll get more information and see if I can track her down."
He stood up, knowing he had to go meet Deeks who was probably already waiting for him. "Nell –"
"Don't ask me to stay out of it."
He put his hand on the back of her chair and leaned over her. "I wouldn't. I know you're going to look into it, so let me know how I can help."
She tipped her head back. "Just talking to you helps."
He smiled down at her. "I gotta go before Deeks accuses me of bailing on him. Hey, there's not a chance you could make up an excuse to come rescue me in a little while, is there?"
"Yeah, you're on your own. Have a fun day!"
"You're not very supportive…why'd I marry you again?"
"'Cause it was in the script."
"Well, you're not living up to my expectations," he informed her, as he headed for the door.
"Of…?"
He stopped in the doorway and turned back to face her. "Catering to my every whim, of course."
"It's by design," she told him, cheerfully. "I can't let you start thinking that you run things. What kind of precedent is that to set for your real future wife? Who I suddenly feel very sorry for, by the way."
"Is that so?" He arched a brow at her. "Remember this conversation, Nell Jones."
"I remember everything," she reminded him.
"I'm holding you to that," he swore. "And my next wife isn't going to have any of these attitude problems. I'm going to whip her into shape real fast. She'll know her place."
She tried not to laugh. "Oh yeah, what woman could resist that?"
"You're still here, aren't you?" he asked, pointedly.
"Because I'm forced to be," she insisted, as if they didn't both know it was a lie.
"Keep telling yourself that," he grinned, as he left.
XXXXXX
Nell spent most of her day trying to avoid the others. That was much easier said than done, since apart from Deeks and Callen who were working together, her team chose to split up. Every time she turned a corner, there was another person asking if she'd found anything noteworthy (Kensi), or suspicious (Sam), or wanted to form an alliance (Eric). Hetty would appear occasionally to say something cryptic that helped Nell not at all and then would vanish just as quickly – so that was pretty much normal.
"This isn't a reality show," Nell told Eric, exasperated, when he laid out his reasons for why they should team up. Sam walked by, casting them a distrustful glance, and Eric pulled her into one of the more secluded back hallways.
"Why wouldn't you want to make an alliance?" he insisted. "Have you already made one?"
"You're accusing me of having one?" she asked, in disbelief. "I saw you with Kensi out on the back patio. Don't pretend like you're innocent."
"We were discussing the weather," he said haughtily.
"Conveniently outside where no one could overhear? And then you made sure to come back in separately and go different ways? And you've been avoiding each other ever since."
Eric weighed his options. "Maybe we're having an affair. You don't know."
"If you're having an affair with Kensi, then you're having an affair with Deeks, too. How's that working out?"
"I'm not comfortable discussing our love life. That, uh, the three of us share."
"You're making me jealous."
He eyed her, calculating. "Is that right?"
"Oh yeah," she gestured for him to step closer and whispered, "I'd love to take your place some time."
His expression cleared. "I knew you were kidding. No way you'd ever leave your husband."
It took Nell a second to process his reference. "Right, the game."
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I meant the game."
She ignored his baiting tone. "My question is why would you trust Kensi in the first place? You know where her allegiance lies."
"Nell, don't you know anything about alliances? You're supposed to make as many as possible and then betray all of them so you come out the winner." He paused. "Not that I'd do that to you, of course."
"You're really making your case here."
"You're working with Callen, aren't you? I knew he'd get to you before I did," Eric complained. "He's too crafty and he has an unfair advantage."
She had this next part practically memorized by now: "We're not in a relationship. Besides, he wouldn't let me win even if we were."
"Funny, Nell," he said, as if she couldn't possibly be serious.
"I'm not trying to be funny."
Eric looked at her like she was dense – she wasn't used to seeing that look from, well, anyone. "This has nothing to do with your relationship, whatever it is, or isn't. It's not even about Callen – though I could probably write a book on him alone. It's about you."
She was starting to lose control of where this was going. "What about me?"
"Oh hey, you two!" Kensi called from the other end of the hallway, saving Nell from an increasingly uncomfortable conversation.
"Maybe set aside some time for self-reflection this weekend," Eric whispered to Nell, right before Kensi reached them.
"What's going on here?" Kensi glanced between them. "Secret meeting?"
Eric's laughter was forced. "If this was a secret meeting we'd be…out on the patio. Or something. Not in a deserted back hallway that hasn't seen human life for twenty years."
"It might have seen an otherworldly kind of life," Nell suggested, as he scowled at her.
Kensi wasn't buying Eric's poorly acted innocence. "You wouldn't happen to be making alliances with everyone, would you, Beale? And then betraying them?" She shot her gaze to Nell. "Uh, not that we have an alliance, or anything."
"I would never do that to you or anyone else," he insisted, echoing the words he'd said to Nell less than a minute earlier.
"I'll leave you two to figure this out," Nell said, escaping down the hall which led toward the back of the house. She reached a fork and randomly picked left, because she knew the sun room was in that general direction and she wanted to see what it was like with the afternoon sun shining in. The deeper she got into the house, the worse the passageways became – narrow, dim, and dusty. There were no windows and only a couple doors that were back entrances to some of the main rooms. Nell suspected these halls had mostly been meant for servants. There was nothing back here and no reason for her to be there, either.
Why hadn't she stuck to the main part of the house? Oh right, because she'd been trying to avoid people, and look how well that had been working out so far. Besides, this was Eric's fault for unknowingly dragging her into the depths of the house – had anyone been here since the Reagan administration?
She had the odd sense she was being watched. Or followed. She stopped, listening for footsteps, and glanced behind her. There was nothing. When she turned back ahead, Deeks was standing there and at least she didn't jump this time – sure, it was because she had momentarily frozen in shock, but based on her poor track record this weekend of dealing with the unexpected, she'd count it as a win.
"Hey, Nell!"
At least it was better running into him than a ghost. Probably. "Where did you come from?"
He pointed at the closed door next to him. "Back staircase. Leads up to the second floor. Where are we?"
"Servants' corridors, I think. Isn't Granger your shadow for the day?"
"I think he ditched us. Callen and I were in one of the bedrooms and Granger said he'd be back in a minute, and then he never came back. We kept waiting for him. We actually worked together for an hour of our own free will. It was a nice bonding experience."
"Where's Callen, then?"
Deeks looked up and down the hall, empty save for the two of them, as if only realizing his partner for the day was missing. "He didn't come through here?"
"No…"
"You're not hiding him from me?"
Nell held her arms out. "Where?"
"He was the first one down the staircase and there were no other exits – at least, that I saw." Deeks opened the door he'd come through, giving Nell a glimpse of an extremely narrow hall leading to steep stairs and a suffocatingly low ceiling. She doubted she'd even have clearance for her head – Deeks must have had to duck the whole way down. Deeks called for Callen a few times, voice echoing in the empty space and got no answer.
"You lost him?"
"In all fairness, I think he lost himself. He probably ditched me, but feel free to go up there and check. You'll come out near the back bedrooms that no one's staying in."
Nell had never been that concerned about small spaces, but the staircase was none too inviting. And she'd already had her share of being trapped this weekend. "I'm not going up there. I might spontaneously develop claustrophobia."
"Suit yourself. I'm going to try and find Granger because I feel like he's testing us – in fact, maybe Callen went looking for him, too. Want to come with me?"
Nell's laughter was the only answer he got as he walked way, muttering something about making sure she was Granger's next victim.
She kept going down the hall, relieved when the passage finally branched off and she found herself back in one of the main hallways. As she turned a corner, she ran into Grant.
"Good afternoon," he said, pleasantly. "Can I help you with anything?"
"I'm on my way to the sun room. It's around here, right?"
"You've almost made it. I'll show you."
He took her to the last room on the back west corner of the house. It had floor to ceiling windows along two walls and numerous skylights to let in the sun.
"Lydia – Mrs. Blackwell – loved to bring her guests back here. As you can tell, the windows have been updated, but the overall feel of the room has been left as close as we could manage to the original."
"It's beautiful," Nell said, taking it in. She absolutely loved it – it was a welcome bright and cheery room in a house that (from what she'd seen) could be far too dark and gloomy.
Grant started talking about the architectural history of the house and Nell mostly tuned him out, staring out the window at the inviting lawn out back. A landscaping crew had arrived a few hours before and had been working non-stop, no doubt with Davis hovering nearby to get things up to his standards.
She wondered what it would have been like to live in that house, to spend mornings and afternoons in such a warm, cozy room – reading or writing or simply conversing with friends. To host parties there, perhaps with people spilling out into the backyard to dance and play games.
Nell wondered if Lydia had loved her husband. If they'd been happy.
Her line of thought quickly turned when she remembered that Lydia had committed suicide shortly before her husband was murdered.
"How's it going?" Callen asked, as Nell turned around to find him in the doorway. She had a flashback to the morning when he'd found her the same way with Audrey.
"Deeks is looking for you," she said, instead of answering his question.
"Was looking for me. I found Granger in the kitchen and then Deeks found both of us. Gretchen distracted them with appetizer samplers and I saw my opportunity for escape."
Nell checked the time. "You made it far longer with them than I thought you would."
"And now I'm free. How about we take a tour?" He mostly directed the question at Grant.
The other man clearly wasn't a fan of that suggestion. "Sure…" he said, while looking at Nell, "if it's fine with both of you. I know some people prefer to work alone."
"What do you think, Nell?" Callen asked. "Am I allowed to come with you? I can point out what you should be paying attention to in order to solve the case."
He goaded her into things – she swore he did. "Know what, I think I feel like going with Grant alone."
"Really," he said flatly.
"Yes, you can take the next tour."
"Don't make me give you an order."
"You can't give me an order," she countered, realizing they'd found themselves in the middle of a very childish stand-off – and they had a witness, at that. She might have been embarrassed if she weren't enjoying herself so much.
"Actually, as your superior –" he glanced at Grant, "– in the…White Collar Division, I can order you around all day long."
"First of all, I'd like to see you try. Secondly, I didn't realize we were at work right now."
"This is practically an extension of work. It applies!"
Grant cleared his throat, "Maybe I should come back later?"
Nell figured that Callen had picked up on the other man's unfriendly vibe toward him. She had no idea what precipitated it, but she knew it would make Callen want to stick around instead of continuing to wander the house on his own, like he'd probably planned.
They both ignored Grant's question.
"Alright then," she challenged, "give me that order."
Callen had a feeling he was stepping into a trap. "Well…I'd rather not have to."
"That's what I thought."
"I don't understand what you're asking of me, either. Am I supposed to avoid you? What if I happen to be in the same places you're going?"
She put her hands on her hips, attempting to stare him down. "Then go be in other places! This house has like a hundred rooms."
Grant cleared his throat. "Actually, our official count, excluding closets –"
Callen held a hand up to silence him. "Nell, are you forgetting that we already agreed to work together? Last night?"
Oh right. She'd gotten too caught up in the argument. "You might bring up a valid point."
"So…"
"Fine, I suppose you can join us. What would I ever do without you, right?"
He pretended to think it over. "Lose the game?"
He certainly had a knack for making her want to throttle him. "Yeah, I'm definitely not going to regret this."
Grant wasn't sure what to make of the two of them. "You guys said you investigate white collar crimes? Like…professionally?"
"You say that as if you don't think we're professionals," Callen declared, slapping Grant on the shoulder.
Grant eased a few steps away from him, trying to make the distance seem natural. "You know, every TV pilot season there are lots of cop shows and I try to audition when I can get down to L.A. You guys sound close enough to cops that you could give me some tips. Like, what's the best way to take down a criminal? What do you do if someone tries to kill you? What's the last thing you investigated – no, what's the creepiest thing you've investigated?"
Callen shook his head, wondering where to begin with this kid. "First of all, television is nothing like reality. The people in real life are not that attractive. Not in the slightest."
"Have you seen your co-workers?" Grant asked, sending a grin Nell's way. "Half of them could be models."
"Why, thank you," Nell said, demurely.
"Half of them?" Callen frowned. "Wait – am I in the other half?"
"Well…" Grant shrugged.
"Now, Callen," Nell took hold of his arm, "you're very pretty…have you thought about getting a haircut?"
"How about a subscription to GQ?" Grant suggested. "That's done wonders for me, I get 15% more callbacks than I did before."
"No one asked you, Grant," Callen said, through gritted teeth.
Nell was sure he could hear the laughter in her voice. "We were joking."
Grant was confused. "I wasn't jok–"
"Moving on," Callen interrupted, "I don't think we'd be much help to you. White collar crimes are so boring that they'd never base a TV show on that…or NCIS at all, for that matter."
Nell nodded in agreement. "If you're going to audition for a show, I'd say you're much better off copying what's already on TV instead of asking us. Think about how unrealistic those shows are. Like how on TV the bad guy is always the vaguely familiar actor who you recognize but don't quite know their name. You meet him around the second scene and he's completely non-threatening, but the 'twist' is that he's the killer."
"Exactly," Callen agreed. "If we were investigating a murder here, and the staff were suspects, Davis would be at the top of the list. But the real killer would probably be you, Grant. Now, you're not a killer…are you?"
"Not that I know of?"
"Is that a question?" Callen demanded.
Grant took a few casual steps further back so that Nell was between him and Callen. "No? I mean, no," he hastily corrected himself before Callen could point out that he'd answered with a question again. "I'm really looking for tips about your actual jobs, though. What's a typical day like for you?"
Nell tried to remember the pertinent details of their backstory. "We investigate a little of this, a little of that."
"You might call us jacks of all trades," Callen said.
"It seems to me like you guys don't know what you do," Grant sounded unsure.
"It's mostly classified," Callen said firmly.
"Bank crimes are…classified?"
"Fraud is serious business. Or do you not think so, Grant?"
"I'm sure he takes forgery and money laundering very seriously," Nell said, recognizing that Grant had taken on the shifty, uneasy manner they commonly saw in suspects about to flee. Not that she thought he was guilty of anything – just that they'd succeeded in making him uncomfortable. (Well, Callen certainly had a talent for that.)
"I would never try to pass off counterfeit money as real," Grant swore. "Though if I did, what are some things you guys look for?"
"Why? You want to print some money?" Callen asked. "That's a serious crime – you're looking at hard labor, possibly a life sentence."
Grant swallowed. "I'm looking for tips, you know, to get into character. Hey, you're kidding about those penalties, right?"
"Federal crimes are no joke," Callen said, darkly.
"I respect the law," Grant said, warily. "It's why I'd love a career in Hollywood pretending I'm in law enforcement." He lowered his voice, "Between the three of us, I feel like my natural acting ability is being wasted here."
"Speaking of that," Nell seized on the change of subject, "we were talking to Audrey this morning and she mentioned her friend Eliza. You all worked together?"
"Oh yeah, Eliza, she was nice, really friendly. It made what she did all the more strange."
"What'd she do?" Nell asked, wondering how closely his story would match up with Audrey's.
"She ditched Audrey, who was supposedly her best friend. The two of them were going to move away together and then Eliza skipped town with her boyfriend."
"Did you ever meet the guy?"
"No, Eliza was real secretive about her personal life. I only knew she was seeing someone because Audrey told me. I'll be honest, after Eliza left without even saying goodbye, my opinion of her fell pretty hard. Audrey was upset for a long time. I offered to move with her, taking Eliza's place, since I've been thinking of relocating to L.A. myself. I told her that even a small apartment would be fine with me – I have no problems sharing a bed – but she wasn't having it."
"How generous of you," Nell said, wryly.
"I know, right?" Grant completely missed her sarcasm.
"Eliza never contacted you after she left?" Callen asked.
"No, why would she? Why are you asking all these questions, anyways? Is Eliza in trouble?"
"Nothing like that," Nell explained. "Audrey hasn't been able to reach her, so we told her we'd help track Eliza down. We're good at finding people."
"Ask Gretchen, as well," Grant suggested. "She might have different contact information for her because I remember her saying she'd heard from Eliza a couple times, too. I hadn't even known they were friends." He checked his phone. "I have to go meet Davis."
"What about our tour?" Callen asked.
Grant's easy-going demeanor disappeared, as if the question had reminded him that he didn't like Callen, for whatever reason. "I can come back later if you want," he offered, sounding as if it pained him.
"Forget it," Nell told Grant. "We'll be okay on our own."
"Isn't it his job to –" Callen began, as Nell nudged him with her elbow a bit harder than necessary.
"He's not required to personally cater to us when he has other job requirements," Nell informed Callen. "Right, Grant?"
Her words were unnecessary, considering Grant had already left the room.
"I got the sense he didn't like me," Callen said, stating the obvious.
"I think the dislike was mutual."
"I only disliked him because he disliked me first."
"What are you, 10 years old?"
"He didn't want me coming along on your tour," Callen pointed out. It had irritated him on a fundamental level. Who did Grant think he was, trying to dictate where he could go? Especially if that place was somewhere with Nell?
"Maybe you intimidate him, ever think of that?"
"Please, Nell, I'm the most easy-going, carefree –" he didn't get any further than that before she burst into laughter.
"Sure, if you want to be. You can be pretty…intense with new people, especially before you get to know them."
"I never intimidated you," he pointed out.
"Because I could see right through you. I have that ability."
"Come to think of it, Hetty never scared you either, which shouldn't be possible for any sane person. Maybe there's something wrong with you."
"I like to think I'm just a phenomenal judge of character."
"Alright then, what's your opinion of Grant?"
She went over to one of the bookcases, reading the spines of the novels. Most of them were classic literature and a lot were in foreign languages. "From the few interactions I've had with him, he seems like a decent person. He wasn't showing signs of guilt and he didn't seem like he was hiding anything. He didn't even flinch when we brought her up. Although he is an actor."
"I got the same vibe from him as you did. And no, he's not that good of an actor…which is a subject I know a few things about."
He was right and she rarely thought about that because she didn't often see him in the midst of an undercover role. The few times she had, she'd been left with an eerie, unsettling feeling, like he was himself but also…not. She hated it. She just…preferred him to be him. Not anyone else.
"I always forget how good at acting you really are," she said, as she went back to scanning book titles.
As he watched her, he wondered (for the first time in his life) if he might be too good at it.
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