"So what do you think that was all about?" Sam asked as he and Callen went back to examining the scene.

"Bad sushi?" Callen joked.

"I don't know, something's wrong."

"Yeah, if his throat was slashed here there'd be more blood."

Sam looked at his partner, "I meant with Deeks."

"You don't think it was just a reaction to seeing a dead body." It wasn't a question, it was an observation.

"No man, that kind of reaction was really strong and Hetty calling to have him taken to the boathouse to meet with Nate… there's gotta be something going on."

"If there's some kind of connection with this case, they'll tell us."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

Callen knelt near the street. "I've got drag marks over here."

"Killer parked, dragged the body out and displayed it. He wanted someone to find this guy."

"Why?"

"He wants attention; he's familiar enough with the neighborhood that he knows the body would be found pretty quickly. He also knows it wasn't likely someone would see him setting it up."

The coroner arrived.

"Hey Rose." Callen waved.

The coroner worked quickly, calling her findings out to the two agents who listened carefully.

"COD is exsanguination due to the slashing of the carotid arteries. Killer was several inches taller, right handed and stood behind the victim. No hesitation or tearing, the blade was extremely sharp. Curious."

"What is it?" asked Sam.

"A different knife was used to mutilate the back; it's a pattern I've never seen before. The mutilation was done postmortem. Our killer wanted to sign his masterpiece."

"Can you tell what kind of blade?"

"Not here." she jabbed a probe into the abdomen, "Maybe when I get him back to the lab. Preliminary findings say he was probably killed sometime between 2 and 6 this morning."

"Thanks Rose." Sam nodded, "Will you call us when you find out what kind of knife was used?"

""When? You are optimistic."

"Nope, just confident that you can do it."

Callen dialed Ops, "Eric, what can you tell us about Petersen?"

"He just came back from a six month deployment at sea. His CO said he left base as soon as they got back to the base, he didn't even change clothes. He went to visit his girlfriend, Holly. According to the DMV, her address is 21117 Cypress, apartment 214."

XxXxXx

Holly Robb lived in a muddy colored apartment building that had been built back in the fifties. The stucco crumbled and the courtyard was bare dirt circling a broken, empty fountain. Her apartment was on the second floor.

The girl who answered their knock was slightly shorter than Sam; she had shoulder length brown hair, brown eyes and was dressed in a blue crop top and white pajama bottoms with blue sheep printed on them. She looked over thirty but she was trying to hard to look younger – the belly shirt showed off a piercing that was just beginning to hide behind a flabby belly.

"What?" she asked, knuckling her eyes.

"We're sorry to wake you," Sam held out his badge, "We're from NCIS and we need to ask you some questions about your boyfriend Dwayne Petersen."

She looked back into the apartment a moment then edged out onto the porch and closed the door quietly behind her, "If he's in trouble for not going back to the base last night, it's not my fault."

"Did you see him last night?" Callen asked.

"Yeah, Dwayne came by last night. He got pissed when he found Raul was here. I tried to tell him nothing was going on; Raul was just helping me practice lines from my acting class. I missed Tuesday because I broke my toe. See?" She held out her right foot, showing off the swollen toe.

"He wouldn't listen, started yelling and screaming. He thinks I'm cheating on him. Mrs. Abrams from downstairs started pounding on her ceiling and I told him to get out before he got me in trouble."

"Do you know where he went?" Callen asked.

"Where he always goes." she frowned, "I ask him if we can go someplace nice, but no," she sighed dramatically, "he always wants to go to O'Malley's."

"Where is that?" Callen asked.

"It's a bar over on Whittier; you can't miss its stupid sign."

"What's that?" Sam asked.

"It's a cartoon cat in a top hat."

XxXxXx

O'Malley's bar is a one story, long wooden building with a sprinkling of windows covered in neon beer signs. A cracked sidewalk sprouting brown weeds and scraps of old newspapers fronted the building. The neon cat winked and tipped his hat. A pink flashing arrow directed customers to parking in rear.

A rusty cow bell mounted over the door announced their entrance.

"What can I get for you boys?" asked the bartender, an older woman with thin, lavender hair.

Sam held out his phone, "Do you recognize this guy?"

She nodded, "Dwayne, he's in here pretty often with his girlfriend Holly. She thinks she's going to be an actress but I think she needs to go back to Podunk, Missouri." She laughed, "Sorry, you wanted to know about Dwayne. He was here last night, got a little bit obnoxious so we asked him to leave. Is he in some kind of trouble?"

"He was murdered last night."

"Oh my God." she poured herself a shot of whiskey, gulped it and wiped her mouth on her apron. "That poor boy!"

"What can you tell us about Dwayne last night?" Sam asked.

"He came in mad as a wet hen, sat over there," she pointed to the end of the bar, "near the jukebox. Had a couple of beers and shooters was pretty quite for a few hours, then he got into an argument with my son, Baxter. Max broke it up and told Dwayne we didn't allow that kind of stuff in here and he have to leave."

"What time was that?"

"It was just after 1:30, I know because I had to go take my ativan."

"Any sore feelings between these guys?" Sam asked.

"Baxter went back to feeding quarters into the jukebox; Max went back to the kitchen."

"Where can we find Max and Baxter?"

"Baxter is in the back room sweeping, he's kind of slow, wouldn't hurt a fly. My husband is in the kitchen refilling the pretzel bowls." she turned and cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted. "MAX!"

A stoop-shouldered elderly man with rheumy eyes shuffled through swinging doors and halted at the end of the bar and leaned heavily against the cigarette scarred wood.

"Do you know where Dwayne went after you asked him to leave?" Sam asked.

With a shaky hand, Max pointed at the front door, "Left peaceably." he stuttered.

G and Sam left too.

"Well I doubt Max killed him." Sam grinned.

"So he's had a few, where would he go next?"

"It's Friday, he's got leave, not back to the base that's for sure."

They walked around back. A raggedy dressed woman with blond frizzy hair was digging aluminum cans out of the dumpster and dropping them into a battered shopping cart.

"G, you see that?" Sam pointed to the mound of plastic garbage bags at the end opposite the woman, "That could be a navy shirt."

When they got close to the dumpster, the woman stood up and glared at them.

"MINE! You go somewheres else!" she growled, taking a swipe at G with a broken broom handle.

He put up his hands, "We're not trying to steal from you. We'd just like to take a look at that shirt over there." He pointed to the other end of the dumpster.

"Fine. I watch you. You get shirt, I get cans. No tricks or I spear you."

G nodded and Sam pulled on a glove, picked up the shirt. They backed away from the woman and the dumpster. As soon as she was satisfied they weren't coming back, she went back to tossing the cans into the shopping cart.

Sam held the shirt up, it was a navy uniform shirt, and the front of it was stiff with dried blood. Callen got an evidence bag from the car and Sam dropped it in, and then sealed it.

"So he was killed here," G looked around the nearly empty lot, "probably in a vehicle since there isn't any blood."

Sam called back to Ops, "Eric can you pull up any traffic cams from near Whittier Blvd around 1:30 a.m. and compare it to ones from 47?"

"Sure." the tech replied, "What am I looking for?"

"See if there are any similar vehicles."

"That could take a while."

"How long is a while?"

"Hmm. Maybe twenty minutes."

"You're the man, Eric." Sam laughed. "Thanks."

XxXxXx

Deeks leaned forward, hands on his knees, staring at the wood planks of the floor, "I woke up two days later at Cedars Sinai."

"What about Laura?" Nate asked.

"Two 45 caliber bullets to the chest," his voice was choked, "they said it nicked the artery. She bled out in minutes."

"And you?" the psychologist asked.

"Two broken ribs, fractured cheekbone and the doctor said after eighty something, he lost count of how many stitches he put in my back. I was in-patient for two weeks. I missed Laura's funeral."

Kensi wanted to touch him, to comfort him but she settled for leaning closer, "So you think this Damon Sharpe is the guy who killed our sailor?"

Marty got up and started pacing, "Sharpe was never seen or heard from after that day. The boat was found drifting, lots of blood in it. The detectives thought he'd fallen overboard like his bodyguard and drowned – case closed."

"Then he could still be alive or this could be some kind of sick copy-cat." said Kensi.

"It's him." Marty said gruffly.

"Do you think he's trying to draw you out?" she asked.

He didn't answer Kensi's question, "He has plenty of reason to be pissed off at me. All of his real estate holdings were auctioned off after he was declared legally dead. Any money he had in his name is gone. His reputation is toast and that is what mattered most to him. He was pretty pissed off that we had conned him, he had us vetted by some strict sources, and he couldn't believe we were cops."

Nate watched Marty carefully, "Do you think he'll come after you?"

Marty stopped at one of the broken windows, staring out, "Look, this has been a shitty morning, would you mind if I went home, showered and took a nap?"

"No problem, I can give you a ride." Kensi got up and stretched.

"I can take a cab." Marty argued, still not looking at either one of them.

"Nope," Kensi insisted, "I can drive you."

"Fine." Marty said sounding resigned.

Nate followed them to the door, "I'll see you back at ops Kensi." He watched them as they got into the car and pulled out onto the road and then opened his phone.

"Sam? I've just had an interesting conversation with Deeks but I think he knows more than he wants to tell me." He quickly explained what Deeks had told them. "Would you talk to him? Kensi is taking him home. Eric can give you the address. Thanks."