In the interrogation room inside the boatshed Roman Tracey planted his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands. Kensi was sitting opposite the surfer and exchanged glances with Deeks. Her partner was perched on the corner of the table and neither were entirely certain whether Roman's distress was due to upset over the news they had just delivered - that his friend Jerry Graziano had been found dead - or if the surfer was only just beginning to realise how much trouble he was in for getting involved in this mess in the first place.
"Anything you can tell us will be a big help, Rome," Deeks said watching as the surfer rubbed his palms over his hair.
"I don't know where Marco could be," Roman murmured. "That's the truth. As for giving you names...I don't know. I didn't know this Zabriski guy. I swear." He exhaled and lifted his head to look at them both. "You really think Marco did this?"
"We're not ruling anything out," replied Kensi.
"Marco's a lotta things, but a murderer?" Roman gave his head a shake and looked directly at Deeks. "I don't think so."
"He threatened the life of his own sister," Deeks reminded him. "He wouldn't think twice about killing someone who wasn't blood."
"You think he has the stash, too?" the surfer asked.
"We don't know," Kensi told him. "But it's possible."
"All I wanted was enough cash for me and my girl to start a new life." The surfer dropped his head back into his hands. "I never wanted this. Never. Why did I get involved? Why?"
Deeks exhaled and slowly nodded. Starr had said that exact thing the night before. "Seems to be the eternal question right now," he said. He felt Kensi's curious gaze upon him and hurried on. "What about known associates? Someone you know that could know Marco?"
"Yeah, I mean, I know guys who knew him," Roman answered, lifting his head once more, "but I couldn't tell you where any of them are."
"He's married, what about his wife?" Kensi asked but Deeks shook his head.
"No, she won't know or care where he is."
"Surely it's worth a shot."
"Really isn't. She cut all ties with him after he was arrested. Trust me on this, Kens," Deeks said and turned back to Roman. "Side chick, maybe?"
Roman thought for a second, chewing down on his lip. "Yeah...wait a sec...there was a girl, Alison...I think her name was. She and Marco had a thing right up until the time he was put away."
"Okay. You know where we can find her?" Deeks asked, feeling somewhat hopeful.
"She waitressed over at the Nickel Diner, but, dude, it was six years ago."
"She could still work there," Kensi said to Deeks who nodded. "I say we check it out."
"Absolutely. Let's go."
*
Fifteen minutes later Kensi was parking the car opposite the Nickel Diner on South Main Street. "This is it," she said as she cut the engine. "Let's hope our waitress is working today."
"Man, this place serves the best pancakes. Have you tried their Dutch Baby?" Deeks swivelled in his seat to look at her. "They whip the butter so it's full of air and extra creamy. I tell you, it's like an angel crying on your tongue."
Kensi smiled. "I'll take your word for it. I didn't even know the place existed until now," she replied and Deeks jerked back as if in shock.
"What? You're kidding, right? How can you live in LA and not know about this place? Best pancakes. Ever."
"Yeah, I got it the first time."
"Because I have to make it known. This place is legendary. How can you not know of its existence? You watch 'Food Network' right? Diners, Drive-ins and Dives?"
Kensi shrugged. "Nope."
"Okay, but you have heard of Tom Waits, right? The singer?" he said with just the right amount of sarcasm laced with a sprinkling of amusement. "His song 'On The Nickel' is about this place."
"I don't know the song and I don't know the diner. What'cha gonna do, Deeks?"
"Wow. Pop culture really is lost on you," he said disgusted and climbed out of the car.
"Just because I'm not a walking, talking Encyclopedia like yourself," Kensi replied.
"Knowledge is power, my friend. Knowledge is power."
Entering the Nickel Diner the place was noisy and busy with the breakfast/brunch crowd. There were around six waitresses rushing from booths to tables, balancing trays on their hips and hands, while they delivered plates of food and coffee.
"Look at this place," said Deeks. "It's like the Kingdom of Heaven in all its delicious, buttery glory."
Kensi swiped a napkin from a nearby table and handed it to him. He gave her a questioning look. "For the drool," she explained with a grin.
One waitress, a petite blonde with a thick hair braid, sailed by carrying a tray of steaming pancakes and eggs. "You sittin' or y'all just gonna stand there and make the place look untidy?" she said in a sassy Southern accent.
"We're looking for someone," Kensi told her. "She works here. Alison?"
"Oh, her," the waitress replied with an eye roll. "She didn't show today, called in sick."
"You got an address for her?" asked Deeks.
"We're kinda busy right now," said the waitress as she delivered the tray to a nearby table. "If y'all come back later."
"C'mon," Deeks glanced at her name-tag, "Gloria. You're always on the run now, I think you gotta slow it down. Help a guy out," he added with a wink and a grin.
The waitress jammed a hand on one hip and cocked an eyebrow at him. "That's hilarious, blondie, but like I haven't heard the song reference a million times already."
Deeks gave her another grin. "It'll take you all of two seconds to tell us where she lives. Help a cute blonde guy out," he said.
The waitress eyed him as she wiped her hands on her apron. "I didn't say you were cute," she said but she was smiling, because he was cute. Very. "You a cop? You look like a cop."
"I might be a cop," Deeks replied with a secretive smile. "You want me to be a cop, Glo? I can be anything you want me to be. Just say the word and you and me are gone. I'll take you away from all this."
Gloria looked at Kensi. "This guy," she said with a snort.
"Welcome to my world," replied Kensi.
"Yeah, whatever. Two of you are keeping me from workin'. Alison has a place in the Arts District, Molino Street," she said and sailed by them both. "You see her, tell her to get her ass back here tomorrow."
"Gloria, you're an angel," Deeks called after her. "Don't go changing."
"Yeah, yeah," the waitress replied and disappeared into the kitchen while Deeks and Kensi left.
*
Over in East LA the halfway house was a hive of activity when Callen and Sam arrived. There were people coming and going, fighting and swearing could be heard, doors were slamming, music was playing - it was chaos. The partners exchanged glances and walked up to the front desk where a harrassed looking, bald guy with glasses was barking at someone down the telephone.
"And like I told you the last three times I don't have room tonight call back tomorrow." He slammed the phone down. "Damn probation officers think they call the shots around here. I can't make room I don't have." He looked at the two men standing in front of the desk. "What can I do for you?"
Callen flashed his NCIS badge that was clipped to his belt buckle. "Agent Callen, NCIS. This is my partner Sam Hanna. Need to see the room Marco Navarro was using."
"And he's another one," bald guy snorted, as he began shuffling a pile of papers on the desk. "I told him, he disappears for just one night - he loses the room."
"Yeah, any ideas on where he went?" asked Sam.
"What do I look like, his mother?" Another snort. "I don't keep tabs on these people. Don't get paid enough as it is."
"You're all about the job, huh? Because those customer service skills are really something else," said Callen a little too dryly for the guy's liking, who narrowed his eyes but didn't respond. "We still need to see the room."
"I cleared out his belongings, there ain't nothing to see." Bald guy pointed with his pen over Callen's shoulder. "That's his stuff over there. If he doesn't come back, it's in the garbage."
Callen walked over to the table behind the main door. Unzipping the large duffel bag he looked inside, there were a couple of clean shirts, pair of pants, a book and a shaving razor. "This it?"
The bald guy gave Callen a blank look. "Guy just got released from prison, how much stuff you think he has?"
"There was nothing else inside the room?"
"I told you, no. We bagged his stuff and changed the bed sheets, that's it. Got another guy coming within the hour to take the room. Look, if you wanna go see for yourself, be my guest." He handed Sam a key. "But you're wasting your time."
"Pleasant guy," said Sam, as he and Callen climbed the stairs to the second floor room. He unlocked the door and they went inside. The space was small and musty smelling. There was a window leading onto a fire escape, a single bed in the far corner, an old wardrobe that had seen better days and a nightstand covered with coffee mug stains and cigarette burns. "Pretty grim," he added.
"And given his lifestyle prior to Cali State not what Marco's used to," said Callen. He walked over to the bed and lifted the mattress to take a look underneath.
"Even an eight by eleven in Cali State is better than this." Sam looked inside the wardrobe. There was nothing but clothes hangers and dust bunnies. "Place is clean," he said.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that."
Sam turned to see what his partner had discovered. Callen was waving a piece of folded, white paper and on it, there was a telephone number scribbled in black pen.
"Tucked inside the pillow," he said with a smug smile. "So much for changing the sheets."
"Lucky for us," said Sam.
Callen took out his phone and speed-dialled Eric back at Ops, putting the call on loudspeaker. The Tech answered on the second ring. "Eric, got a phone number here, need you to find out who it's registered to," he said and read out the number.
"Gimme a sec." There was only a brief pause. "Here we go, number belongs to a Johnny Delgado and according to the phones GPS, it's static and at home."
"Address?"
"East Venice, and already on your phone."
"Find out all you can on this guy and keep me posted."
"Will do."
"Thanks, Eric." Callen ended the call and checked the address Eric had just downloaded to his phone. "Sam, I do believe we're beginning to get somewhere."
"About time," said Sam nodding his head. "You think this Delgado could be one of the robbery crew?"
"Only one way to find out," said Callen and they both left the halfway house to head back to Venice.
*
"Nice digs for a waitress," said Kensi. She and Deeks had arrived at the smart looking apartment block on Molino Street where Alison the waitress lived. "Tips must be good. Either that or I'm in the wrong line of work."
"Says the person who's never had a Dutch Baby from the most famous diner in LA."
"Oh my God, really?"
"I'm just saying."
Kensi sighed as they climbed the stairs to the first floor where Alison's condo was situated. "I'm not considering a career change, Deeks. I was making a comment."
"Good. Because you gotta know your craft," he said with a grin and rapped twice on the door. Alison answered the door on the first knock. A young redhead in her mid-twenties, she was dressed in a pair of SpongeBob SquarePants pyjamas and holding a glass of water; her eyes smudged with day old mascara.
"Nice PJs," commented Deeks.
Kensi slid her partner a quick glance then turned her attention onto the woman. "Alison Steele?" she asked.
"Yeah?" Alison replied listlessly to the two people on the other side. "Who wants to know?"
Kensi took out her NCIS shield. "Kensi Blye, this is my partner Detective Deeks."
Alison's dark eyes went a little round. "Is this because I called in sick? Did Raoul call the feds on me? Sonofabitch..."
Deeks couldn't contain his smile. "Uh, no. He didn't. However, in his defense you don't look sick," he said. She looked more hungover than anything. The waitress showered him with a heavy lidded look.
"I've been throwing up all morning, dude. You wanna see the evidence? I'm sick."
"Yeah, no, I'm good," Deeks replied. "Mind if we ask you about your relationship with Marco Navarro?"
"That lying piece of crap," the young woman snorted. "Haven't heard that name in almost six years. Why? What did he do now?"
"We're still figuring it out," replied Kensi. "So you haven't seen or talked to him lately?"
"Not likely, considering he's still locked up." She took a sip of the water in her hand. "Isn't he?"
"Released last weekend," Kensi answered
"In that case, no I haven't talked to him and I don't want to, either."
"We understand the two of you were in a relationship up until his arrest," said Deeks. "That right?"
Alison snorted again. "Yeah. That's right."
"So how well do you know him?" asked Kensi.
"Not as well as I thought," answered Alison. "Because we dated on and off for eight months and I didn't find out he was married until after he got arrested. Sonofabitch." She let out a soft hiss. "He knew how to have a good time, though. Regular party guy. Liked to throw his money around and from what I heard, his fists, too."
"He ever hurt you?"
Alison gave Deeks a shake her head. "That had been the case I'd have been gone a lot sooner. From what I heard it was the people who worked for him. There were rumors he offed a guy who owed him money. I don't know if that's true. Other than the fact that he lied about being married, he always treated me pretty good," she finished with a shrug.
Deeks and Kensi exchanged glances. Marco 'offing' a guy was news to them. They'd get Eric and Nell to look into it.
"Look, are we done? I need to throw up again," said the waitress who had gone slightly paler than she had been moments before.
"Yes, thank you, Alison. You've been a great help," Kensi said.
"Hope you feel better soon," said Deeks and the young woman nodded and closed the door.
"If Marco Navarro offed a guy why are we only hearing about it now?" said Kensi as they made their way out of the building.
"Obvious answer, cover up. Beating up his boys proves he has violent tendencies," Deeks replied.
"Yeah, but to use that same violence towards his own sister? I don't know, Deeks. I'm still not buying it."
"Already bought and paid for."
Kensi looked at him as they stepped out onto the street and back into the sunshine. "You really believe he has it in him to kill his own sister? Because it takes a cold-hearted person to be able to take the life of a loved one. More so a family member."
"There's no love lost between them, Kens. If it were a choice between his life or hers, he'd kill her in a heartbeat."
Exhaling, Kensi shook her head. "We really need to find this guy."
"Yes, we do, partner," agreed Deeks, his nod sombre. "Yes, we do."
*
Back in Venice Sam and Callen had just pulled up outside of Johnny Delgado's home. Another small, well-kept property on a nice, quiet avenue. Sam clucked his tongue in disapproval as he and Callen left the car and crossed the street towards the house.
"What is it about criminals and their nice houses?" he wondered.
"Hiding in plain sight," Callen simply replied.
"Look at this landscape, G. Check out the blue hydrangea over there." Sam pointed towards the huge shrub with its abundance of cornflower blue flower heads.
Callen snickered. "So now you're an expert on plants?"
"I've been trying to grow one of those bad boys for the last two years. Pink ones. It's all about the pH in the soil. Less pH produces blue, more produces pink. Can't seem to get it just right."
Callen didn't say anything he just chuckled.
"What?" Sam wanted to know. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to have a nice front-yard. It's the first thing people see when they come to your home."
"I'm not saying anything."
"You're thinking it," Sam said as they stepped up onto the stoop. "What do we know about this guy?"
"Other than his ability to grow the perfect hydrangea, he has a rap sheet as long as your not so green arm."
Sam showered his partner with a look that required no explanation as he knocked on the front door. "It's thumb," he corrected.
"Whatever it is you don't have it. Hey, maybe your pH levels are off, partner," said Callen with a grin. "According to what Eric pulled up Delgado's a street hustler and known associate of both Graziano and Zabriski."
No one was answering so Sam knocked at the door again. There was definite movement inside. "Johnny Delgado. Federal Agents. Open up. Just need to ask a few questions."
More movement, but then eventually the door creaked open and a blonde, skinny, tatted guy in his early thirties wearing jeans and little else, answered. "Yeah, what's this about?" he asked sounding bored.
"Johnny Delgado?" asked Callen.
"Yeah, I'm him. What's going on?"
Sam tried to peer around the door but Delgado shifted ever so slightly blocking his view; but not before Sam had spotted the two large black duffel bags on the living room floor.
"Need to ask you about Marco Navarro," Callen said to Delgado.
"Right," he replied. "Uh, yeah, heard he got released. Haven't seen him."
"Can we come inside? It won't take long."
"Yeah, about that, I'm kinda busy. Got my girl here and we just got out the shower," he added with a grin. "Let me put a shirt on first and then we can talk. Gimme two secs." He promptly closed the door not giving Callen or Sam the chance to add anything more to the conversation. The partners looked at one another.
"Two duffel bags inside, G," said Sam. "Looked similar to the ones used in the heist."
"And who doesn't get their hair wet during shower sex?" Callen added somewhat comically.
"I don't."
"Because you don't have any. Just to clarify, I'm talking about hair."
"Oh, you're funny."
The sound of a back door being slammed shut interrupted the banter and the partners exchanged knowing looks.
"He's running," said Callen.
"Yeah," Sam sighed. "Why do they always do that?"
"Because they think they're smarter than us."
While Callen quickly made off around the back of the property to begin chasing Delgado through the backyards of the neighboring houses, Sam raced towards the Challenger and sped off down the street to cut their runner off at the intersection.
___________________________________
COPYRIGHT. Mack. (NCIS:LA - Falling Star)