Fritz was working security for the banquet. He was apart of a detail that made sweeps outside so that if anyone rushed in or drove by, unexpectedly, they would be intercepted.

He would rather be at home with his wife, but doing this security detail earned him a weekend off and he had been itching to take his wife to the beach. She got this new bikini, and he never got a chance to see her in it, except the one time she modeled it at the house.

"If you want me to wear it again, you got to get me outside."

Now seemed like just the time. He had to get her mind off of this Flynn case. She hadn't been meddling. He actually checked on that, but he knew she was reeling. Despite their rocky start, Flynn had been one of the closest to the Chief in Major Crimes. It would devastate her if her were implicated in the murder.

Agent Howard walked his route seeing nothing unusual. Above him, however, was his wife breaking into the party from above. She hadn't grappled in almost a decade.

"This is terrifying," she thought in her head, not daring to speak out loud or give any sign that she is there. She tiptoed into the party. Now, she just had to wait for the signal.

Mendoza knew of a girl from SID who had a crush on her. She was able to pick her brain on the Richards' case.

"This was an unusual one," she said.

"Why is that?"

"When Dr. Morales first did the autopsy, he ruled that Richards died of a gunshot wound."

"But?"

"But, when he did a toxicology test, he found evidence of poison. The gun wound was likely a non-fatal wound. With the poison, however, he didn't have a chance."

"So someone was trying to silence Richards."

"Possibly the people who hired him."

"How odd? Do you think someone poisoned him and when it didn't work fast enough shot him?"

"I thought about that too, but this poison takes three days to work. The killer would have likely known that. I think someone poisoned him and someone else shot him."

Richards was shot on a Wednesday, so even if Flynn had gotten the address from Chief Johnson that Monday, he couldn't have poisoned him, and if he's not the poisoner, he's not the killer.

"Could you give me a list of places in the area where this poison can be acquired?"

"Sure. It's a rare one. There are only 5 places to get it in the country."

Mendoza took the list. "You've been a great help."

"No problem. Hey, would you like to get coffee with me on Friday?"

"Why not?" Hopefully, this won't be a total disaster.

Morgan kissed Will chastely before she went to the bathroom. She was on her way inside when a small hand covered her mouth. Before she could fight, she collapsed.

Brenda dragged her into an empty room and changed into her catering outfit.

She then stuffed Morgan into the bag and carried her outside.

"What is that?" an agent questioned.

"Trash. Guests were complaining about the smell."

"Alright then."

He didn't inspect the bag, luckily. Brenda made her way to her motorcycle. It was easy to leave the party through the alley, especially when one of the agents went for a smoke break and left his post.

Brenda put her helmet on and started to speed towards the airport.

After about twenty minutes, Will got suspicious. He asked around but no one had seen Morgan. They checked the bathroom. Nothing.

They asked the nearest agent. "I haven't seen anyone here other than one of the caterer's taking out the trash."

They went out back, no trash.

The FBI questioned every employee, but none of them knew anything about taking out trash. "We always haul it out at the end of the night."

"Was this bag large enough to fit a person?" Fritz questioned.

The agent shrugged.

Well Crap!