"Did you know a Gregory Morton?" Kensi asked, sitting on the edge of her seat. After the idiot she'd made of herself, she felt like she needed to be extra professional. It didn't help that Mr. Deeks, or whatever the hell his name was, kept staring at her. It would make it infinitely less difficult to act aloof if she didn't have to look directly into his extremely gorgeous blue eyes.
"I know of him," he said vaguely. Something about his expression told Kensi there was more to the story.
"I thought you both worked for the same law firm." He nodded.
"We do. I'm a founding member, but I've taken a backseat in the last few years. Greg is a recent hire. One that I wasn't especially fond of."
"Why was that?" she asked. Instead of answering immediately, he rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip and then leaned forward, his expression completely serious for a moment.
"I noticed you used the past tense when you talked about Greg, is he dead?" he said, neither seeming upset or glad about the idea. Maybe thoughtful was the right word.
"Yes. His body was found outside a condemned building in the packing district along with two active members of the military. They were all stabbed multiple times, suggesting they had been tortured."
"Jesus," Marty murmured, looking horrified. Keeping in mind his apparent dislike for Greg Morton, she watched his posture and face closely. He pressed his hand over his mouth, seeming to forget she was even there for a moment.
"Mr. Deeks," she prompted. "Do you have any idea what Greg Morton might have been doing by that building? Or what he might have been involved in?" Startling, he shook his head slowly.
"No...I. We weren't close at all. I don't know much about his life outside of work. He didn't like to share. In more ways than one." He huffed out a bitter chuckle and then shook his head again. "God, I can't believe he's dead. I just saw him the other day."
Kensi narrowed her eyes, not buying the shocked act.
"You indicated you two didn't get along, yet you seem upset by his death." Deeks looked up at her observation, looking horrified by the implication of her words.
"We didn't. But that doesn't mean I wanted him dead!" he insisted and she asked.
"Then what was the source of your disagreement?"
"Greg and I had different ideas about the type of cases and people we should be representing. To him, money was more important than worrying about if our clients were actually guilty or not."
"And you're saying you weren't motivated by money?" Kensi said, glancing at the intricately carved and stained woodwork of the bookshelves, where which spoke of wealth.
"I never said that. But I do my best to make sure the people, or companies, I represent don't actually belong in prison. Half the time, I work with celebrities who did something incredibly stupid and need some legal advice. Hell, I once defended a basketball player." He grinned at her again and Kensi rolled her eyes.
"That's very impressive, Mr. Deeks. But to get back on track, is there anything more you can tell me about Mr. Morton?"
Sobering again, he shook his head slowly.
"Honestly, not that I can think of. He ran with a different set of people. Represented different people. The only times we ever really associated was when we sat in on the same case, which happened rarely, or during staff meetings," he explained. "But I can ask around. I think he was friendly with quite a few people around the office. They might know something."
"That's a very kind offer," Kensi said. "But we'll handle any and all interrogations."
"See that's the problem. You're thinking of it from the point of view of an Agent. Whereas I look at it from the view of someone who knows how to convince people to change the way they think. I can be very persuasive."
"I'm sure you can but-"
"What, you think the gardener can't handle it?" he teased, grinning so his eyes crinkled at the corners. His smile was slightly crooked, Kensi noticed idly.
"No, I think that you'll be interfering in a federal investigation and then I really will have a valid reason to arrest you," she answered. A second too late, she realized she sounded a lot more flirtatious than she'd intended.
"Sounds kinky, but I'm afraid I have a couple more flats of petunias to plant." Deeks winked at her and then stood up, effectively ending the interview. Trying to regain control of the situation, Kensi stood up too and extended her hand. He took it with a faint smile.
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Deeks."
"Anytime," he said, somehow managing to make it sound slightly indecent. As she turned to leave, he held onto her hand and added, once again changing from playful to serious in a nanosecond, "You will let me know if you find out who did this, right?"
"Of course," Kensi promised rashly.
"Why didn't you send me a picture of Martin Brandel?" Kensi demanded when she walked into the bullpen later that day. She'd interviewed two more of Greg Morton's acquaintances and both had turned out to be dead ends. Eric, who was sitting in a spare chair and munching on some kind of wrap, put it down, looking concerned.
On the way back, she'd had plenty of time to review every mortifying moment of her interview with Martin Deeks.
"Why, what happened?" Callen asked.
"I accused him of being the gardener," she explained angrily as both Callen and Sam burst into laughter. "When you told me he was a lawyer, I expected a snooty suit, not some blond, blue-eyed surfer dude."
"Interesting," Sam commented, thoroughly undaunted by her rant.
"What's interesting?"
"That you noticed his blond hair," Callen said.
"And blue eyes. You got a picture of this guy, Eric?"
"Sure, give me a second," Eric said, wiping his fingers off and retrieving his tablet, which was never far away. After a little tapping, he pulled up a picture of Deeks. He looked considerably more put together-and was actually wearing a suit, though the top two button were undone-than when she'd met him, but his hair was still a little messy and there was no mistaking those blue eyes or that smirk.
"Ooh, I can definitely see why you have a thing for him," Callen said, sharing a glance with Sam.
"Mm-hm. He's your type."
"He is not my type. I don't have a type," Kensi insisted. "And if I did, he would not be it."
"Me thinks the lady doth protest too much," Eric added, earning an appreciative smile from Callen.
"Hilarious." Kensi gestured at the screen, bringing the conversation back to the case." Do you have anything else on this guy? He claimed he didn't know much about Morton, but there was something hinky about him."
"Sure." Eric grabbed his tablet again.
"Hinky. I think that means she likes him," Sam said which Kensi ignored.
"Ok, what do you want to know about him, Kensi?" Eric asked, hand poised over the keyboard.
"Let's start with what he's been doing for the last ten years," she said.
"Um, let me see, shortly after graduating from law school, he helped form the Martindale, Stevenson and Brandel law firm with two of his former roommates. Wow, that's certainly a mouthful. I wonder if they ever shorten it to save time."
"Eric."
"Sorry. They managed to accrue a wealthy client base within a couple years of establishment. Most of their cases are civil or non-violent criminal cases.
"Yeah, he said that he works with a lot celebrities," Kensi mentioned, distaste in her tone.
"Ooh, this is interesting," Eric murmured. "Apparently he does a ton of pro bono work on the side. Mostly for victims of domestic abuse and such. I wouldn't have expected that from a guy who lives in a three million dollar home."
"Maybe he's trying to hide something," Sam suggested.
"Or maybe he just likes to help out," Eric said.
"Maybe. But it's unlikely," Kensi said. A part of her hoped it was true, because despite everything, she didn't want Martin Deeks to turn out to be one of the bad guys. "Keep looking, Eric. I want to know about anything sketchy this guy has done."
"Will do."
"And on that note, I think we'll check out Morton's law firm now," Callen said, beginning to stand as he gestured to Sam.
"That won't be necessary, gentleman," Hetty said, appearing in the entryway. She stepped to the side and held out a hand as Marty Deeks sauntered in. He grinned at Kensi and nodded to Sam, Callen and Eric.
"What's he doing here?" Sam asked, giving Deeks a once over, which clearly found him lacking.
"Mr. Deeks came to me with some very useful information and agreed to consult on the case," Hetty answered, smiling fondly after Deeks. There was a calculating gleam in her eye that Kensi wasn't sure she liked.
"No way." Deeks sat down at the spare desk and grinned at Sam.
"It's nice to meet you too." Turning to Kensi, he winked at her, the gesture somehow simultaneously sarcastic and flirtatious.
She ignored the slight shiver that ran up her spine.