Dirty Little Secrets
By: The Dark Loremaster

Chapter Three-

"Can you track his movements over the last forty-eight hours prior to his death?"

Deeks was standing in front of the large monitor within the intelligence room, watching as images flew across the screen – video surveillance, traffic camera stills, reports of debit and credit card transactions, even Facebook statuses. Everything about Geoffrey Thompson was out on display, the last couple days of the man's life open to everyone in the room. But it was necessary, at least the tone of voice in Agent Monahan's question made it seem that way. He briefly wondered what her thought processes were, but he knew that it was standard procedure to track movements and activities to determine what could possibly have lead to this man's death. Their training courses were not entirely different after all.

But that was not the only thing on his mind. A few days had passed since he had last spoken to McPherson and had gotten this information, but he knew that Eric and Nell had been working on reconstructing a history in the FBI agent's absence. Whatever she had been doing while she was gone, he had not asked, but he knew that it would have something to do with the case. His gut told him that much. But it was more than that. He had noticed that she had changed her appearance, moving away from the pencil skirts and blouses to a dark pair of slacks and a button-down shirt. It was still a far cry from the jeans and shirts he typically wore, but it seemed that FBI agents always had to dress a bit more than casual. Shrugging his shoulders at the thought, he focused his attention back to the screen, watching as Eric pulled up a list of information he had compiled to help answer Monahan's question.

"Yes." His fingers paused in their pressing of the keys before he turned in his chair, facing the screen as well. "Seems pretty normal. Food market, a tobacco outlet, a drug store, an Internet café."

Silence filled the room as Monahan folded her arms across her chest, her eyes staring at the information that had been placed before her. Deeks could tell that she was deep in thought, the wheels in her mind turning in order to come to some kind of conclusion as she considered what she was seeing and reading. Blue eyes closed for a moment, and he saw her give a small sigh before she turned to face Eric.

"How long was he in that café?" Monahan's voice was clear, crisp, even. Detective skills working harder, Deeks was beginning to realize that she might have been on to something about the man's behavior prior to his death.

"About two hours."

Deeks watched as her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed slightly together. She was thinking harder now, and he could almost see her eyes working on making connections. She was pointing to a few of the images, requesting more information, but her words did not reach his ears as he focused on the same images. He was trying to piece together her thought process, the way she was gluing the puzzle together before he heard her speak again, her eyes looking at the traffic stills Eric had left up.

"Fast forward about twenty minutes after Thompson leaves." The stills shifted quickly, and Deeks heard her whisper. The words were soft, and it took him a moment to make them out. When he did, he could almost feel the emotion behind them. She was not happy, and he knew that she had just added another piece to a complicated puzzle that involved the Yakuza. The words "son of a bitch," as simple as the curse could be, definitely had an impact on what she was thinking as she straightened her posture, a frown settling on her lips. "Look who followed him out? I thought it was odd that some wannabe thug was hanging around an Internet café."

It took Deeks a moment to catch what she had seen, but when he did, he felt his chest tighten slightly. Eru Kudoh. The FBI agent's concerns were well placed. If Kudoh was involved, then it had to be bad news. Not only that, it explained a lot behind Thompson's murder. If he were to venture a guess, he would consider the notion that Kudoh had set the man up in the first place. Glancing at the time stamp, it was only a few hours before the man had been found in the alley, a single gunshot wound to the chest. There was no questioning it now. Everything seemed to connect, and a careful eye had caught what Kudoh was likely trying to hide. Glancing at Sam, he saw the other cross his arms in front of his chest.

"McPherson gave you some good information. We need to go over his place again with a finer toothed comb. There's no doubting now that Kudoh was involved in his death. I want to know why." Monahan was speaking softly, but the words had an air of determination in them. She was going to get to the bottom of this, and Deeks knew it.

"What's the plan?" Monahan glanced toward Sam, her lips still set in a small frown.

"I would like to see what Agent Blye has come up with before I consider the next step, but going through the apartment is something I would like to get done before the night is over. I'm sure that the LAPD would not mind us taking a look at what is left over." She fell silent for a moment, her eyes moving back to the screen shots that were still up on the monitor. "My resources here have not been as useful as they were back in Hawaii."

Deeks heard the clear sign of regret in the woman's voice. It was not the first time she had mentioned Hawaii, but no one had actually asked what had happened in the island state. The only information she had divulged was the fact that a contact there had been found dead in his home. No other details had been mentioned, and Deeks had come to the conclusion that Monahan was not the kind of agent who would freely give information. In a way, she was like Hetty – only giving information on a 'need to know' basis. But, something told him that the right instance would come along that she would finally explain to them everything she knew, what exactly it was that she was looking for, and how this entire case was going to hopefully come to a close. Until then, they just had to wait it out.

The silence was broken by the sound of a cellular phone going off, resonating the ring throughout the room. Deeks found himself glancing at Monahan, watching as it took her a moment to answer the call, but when she did, he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of stomach, one that he could not explain. Her voice was almost mechanical, unemotional, as she put the device to her ear.

"Monahan." Silence once again filled the room, but the tension seemed to build as she spoke into the phone, collecting an address before she hung up. Facing them once again, he could see the tightness in her features. "They found another body. Same wound pattern as before. This time it was down by a club."

Crime scene tape, uniformed police officers, crime scene units, any other involved personnel were currently swarming the scene in front of a popular bar. The name escaped him at the moment as he watched Agent Monahan slip through the various police officers that were lining the streets in front of the bar. His blue eyes took a moment to understand where she was going before the realization hit him. He knew that he had recognized her before, from somewhere at least. The picture in McPherson's office, the family portrait with his wife and son. How could he have been so blind? They had met before, many times, and it was not as though she had changed drastically in appearance. But it had been some time since he had last seen her, since he had spent any time with McPherson or his family. Agent Monahan was none other than McPherson's wife. It was no small wonder, now, that she received a telephone call directly from LAPD.

"He has the same wound pattern as the last victim." McPherson was already speaking as he and Sam stepped toward the small group that had aggregated closer to the body. There was a solemn tone to the man's voice, a tone that offered the understanding of loss and the importance of the case. He glanced briefly at Deeks before continuing, his eyes barely focusing on Monahan. "You all were the first people I called after getting to the scene. I told the coroner to wait so that you could see what I was referring to before the body was taken away."

Deeks looked past everyone at the body lying on the ground, his lips curving downward into a frown. A single shot to the chest. A clean shot, thorough and well-placed. There was no mistaking the motive behind the shot. It was clear that the man was not expected to live, and highly likely that he felt very little as a result. It mirrored other victims, whose photographs they had seen over the past few days. Everything Monahan had mentioned, had clearly spoken about, made even more sense. This case was not only important, it struck the very chords of those involved in trying to solve the case. Yet, this was not the kind of case where they had to find the 'whodunit.' They already knew the responsible parties. So, what more were they waiting for? It had to be more than just locating Kudoh and Takashi.

"Any witnesses?" Monahan's voice broke the silence, snapping McPherson's attention to her. To anyone who did not know either of them well, they appeared too professional to be married to each other. Marital affairs were put aside, tucked away from prying eyes. They were both here for the same reason, and anything else just got in the way. At night, when they went home, things would likely be different, but now, Deeks knew they would remain just as they currently were. The case came first.

"No, not that we could find. No one's come forth saying they've seen anything." Monahan gave a nod, and Deeks could see a mild look of disappointment cross her face. But she quickly steeled her appearance as McPherson's voice caught her attention once more. "The coroner estimated the time of death at around three this morning. We were on the scene shortly after five, when the body was called in. The rest of the scene is clean, except for this."

He held out a piece of paper, one that Monahan took in her gloved hands. She said nothing as she carefully unfolded the note, her eyes narrowing as she read what was depicted on the paper. Her lips were pressed together, her frown growing deeper. Deeks could see the indications of concern in the slight rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. He could tell by her body language that something about the note was causing the reaction, and it piqued his interest. She folded it back up, placing it inside of an evidence bag before thanking the other. She started to turn to face them when McPherson cleared his throat once again, her attention snapping back to him.

"That's not all that was found here." Her head tilted slightly in question as her eyes asked him to continue. "We found another person here. We're thinking a possible drug overdose; she's in the hospital now. I'm not sure what her condition is, but I already informed them that you all would likely head over there. A Petty Officer Sherman, I believe was her name."

Monahan's face fell before she could prevent it, and it took her another moment to regain her composure. It was clear that the news did not sit well with her, and, beside him, Deeks felt Sam stiffen in response. Sherman had been Kensi's cover name. The idea that she was currently in the hospital did not sit well with either of them, and he felt a wave of anger wash over him. He did not want to vocalize his feelings with the FBI, but he could not help himself when it came to placing blame. Yes, he knew that their jobs were dangerous, but he had to think that everything would be different if the FBI had not been involved. Seeing Monahan pass a hand over her face, he forced himself to take a deep breath. A few choice words wanted to flee his lips, but he restrained himself. He had to.

"No further contact from the hospital?" McPherson shook his head.

"No. Like I said, I don't know what her condition is. I can say we found her in time. Any longer, and I doubt she would have been alive at all." The agent nodded, her eyes shifting away from McPherson.

"Thank you." The words were soft, quieter than he had expected them to be, but he still heard them. McPherson did not say anything further, allowing Monahan to step away from him and let him continue his work. Walking over to them, but her eyes were cast down. It was probably a good thing, otherwise he knew she would have seen the angry looks she was being given. There was no doubt in his mind that she could, at the very least, feel the waves of anger that were passing through the air.

"I can't believe this. I knew the FBI would be trouble."

Sam's voice was louder than Deeks thought was necessary, but his intention held true – he wanted Monahan to hear the words. It was clear that she had, given the stiffening of her shoulders as she approached them, but she said nothing in response, giving Deeks a moment to say something quick before she was clearly within earshot.

"How was she supposed to know that this would happen?" And why was he defending her? Sam's dark glare turned to him, and he almost fidgeted under the stare. Yes, he was angry, but part of him seemed to know that what had happened was no one's fault. How could any of them anticipate such an incidence? Kensi knew that there would be risks, just like the rest of them. Still, he could not brush aside the anger that he felt.

"It's a drug issue, Deeks. She had to have known that sending someone in could have repercussions." Monahan was in front of them once again, giving Deeks just enough of an opportunity to shrug his shoulders. This assignment just took a turn none of them were expecting.

"This is Kudoh's work." Speaking of the case, Monahan went right to the discussion, holding out the piece of paper in the evidence bag. The paper was still folded, but this time the lettering was showing. The characters were not English, but he had suspected that when she had initially been giving the note. But, he knew that she was able tor read the characters, if her facial expressions were any indication. "He's either made a mistake, or he's taunting me." She paused briefly, her lips pressing together. "It's a drop off, moderate-sized quantity. That tells me this victim was one of his dealers, but the fact that he let this slip is suspicious enough. Kudoh just doesn't make these kinds of mistakes." Her thoughts were trailing off, almost as though her attention was no longer on them. Silence seemed to pass between the three of them, but not for long.

"Just going to avoid the obvious." Sam, direct as always, spoke up, negating the conversation she was making. She focused her attention on him, and Deeks felt himself holding his breath.

"Now is not the time to discuss this, Agent Hanna, nor is this the place." Deeks had to agree with her. The place was crawling with police officers and crime scene units. "If you have a problem with how I'm managing this assignment, take it up with me when we get back." Her words, however, were sharper than he would have thought appropriate. She did not wait for either of them to respond as she turned on her heel. Deeks followed Sam toward the black Dodge Charger, already feeling the tension that was running through the air. It felt like the moment before a showdown, both opponents pointing the guns toward each other, only words replaced the guns. It gave him the feeling that things were not going to end well, especially as Sam started driving back. Given the speed and the way he was ignored, Deeks highly doubted it would take them long to reach the building.