The Flower Child and The Fuzz

Chapter 7

...

Callen and Sam were waiting on the tarmac when Kensi hurried off the Coast Guard plane, her cased sniper rifle slung across her back. Her expression was so intense Sam warned that it wouldn't be a pleasant drive up into the foothills. He'd been right. She grilled them as if they were suspects, fighting her emotions the whole time, although Callen noticed a few breaks in her tightly controlled demeanor. Her eyes became bright with tears when she speculated about Deeks' injuries, but there was anger as well. She railed against her new husband for not sending her the same text he sent to Hetty and Eric. They let her vent, until Sam caught her eye in the rearview mirror and reached back to grip her hand. He gently reminded her that Deeks was alive and that she needed to control her emotions and concentrate on what they needed to do to find him. She hadn't really needed to be told that, but Callen thought it helped her focus. She remained quiet until they pulled into the driveway of The Flower Farm and found themselves engulfed in a sea of multi-agency vehicles, police officers, and sheriffs working the scene.

"All these people...but no Deeks," she murmured.

"At least it looks like nobody's taking this lightly," Sam said as he showed his credentials to a deputy sheriff, who directed them to park over by a small wine tasting venue.

"Looks like we're about to enter a shitshow," Callen replied. "Look around, Sam. We got Rocklin PD, Placer County Sheriffs, U.S. Marshals, and no doubt the FBI."

"And now NCIS," Sam said. "Alphabet soup, baby."

"Crime scene's probably been trampled by now," Callen said in resignation.

"His truck's still here," Kensi said, the sight of Deeks' empty red truck hitting them all hard.

They parked by the nursery where a cluster of civilians talked in front of a small, two story rustic barn decorated with an odd assortment of birdhouses, wind chimes, and hanging plants. Their day had been upended too, but it was exciting for them. Something different to talk about. Callen wondered what they might have seen, or if anyone had bothered to ask.

Kensi slammed out of the rental car, determined and resolute as she headed toward the small wine tasting building that had been appropriated for a command center. Callen got to her before she could hurt the poor cop assigned to monitor the traffic in and out, and had made the mistake of putting a hand on her arm. She was hot, but begrudgingly showed her badge. The young officer was examining it when a Rocklin police sergeant stepped out of the door and deescalated the minor confrontation.

"You must be NCIS. Been expecting you guys...just not a lady," He said, taking Kensi's credential from the cop and handed it back to her. "You folks really hauled ass to get here this fast."

"Our Operations Manager had a Lear jet on stand-by," Callen said. "The Coast Guard provided an assist."

"You Feds sure love to brag," the sergeant said with a smirk. "I met your man Marty Deeks this morning. Talk about having a bad day. First a bomb under his truck and now this. I'm Sergeant Mick Torres, Rocklin PD SWAT."

"Special Agent Sam Hanna."

"Special Agent Callen."

"Agent Kensi Blye," she said. "Deeks is my partner and my husband."

"I knew he was a lucky man," Torres said, smiling widely.

"Have you found him yet?" Kensi asked.

"No ma'am. I'm sorry. The only news I can give you is that he isn't in any of the local hospitals," he replied. "Or in any in the Sacramento area either."

Kensi flinched at the information, but gathered herself as Sam gently put a hand on her shoulder.

"Why don't you all come in and we'll get you up to speed," Sergeant Torres said. "And just a heads up...that FBI guy inside wants Deeks' head on a stick. Hope you got something to shut him and the U. S. Marshal up. It's like a couple of piranha going after each other in there."

Callen decided he liked Torres, and followed him inside feeling a little better about local cooperation. It wasn't hard to spot the FBI agent, he was red-faced as he argued with an older man who was giving as good as he got.

"Gentlemen!" Torres called out. "NCIS is in the house. Agents Callen, Hanna, and Blye. She's the pretty one."

"Your agent is a goddamn liar," the FBI agent snapped out before even introducing himself. "If you know where he is you better tell me right now."

"Or what?" Sam boomed out.

"Can we all just calm down, please?" the older man said. "I'm Deputy U.S. Marshal Frank McKinnon. This is my case."

"The hell it is," the FBI man said.

"Care to introduce yourself so we know what to call you?" Callen asked, stepping up to confront the FBI guy.

"Agent T. J. Barrett, FBI. Agent Pettis is my partner. He's the guy in the suit in the pictures you sent. The one who looks like he had his head bashed in."

"Did you also read the text that went with those photos?" Callen asked, crowding the man so much he had to take a step back.

"It was bullshit," Barrett said. "Deeks attacked a Federal agent and then accused him of being a bad guy to cover his tracks. And I intend to arrest him for it. I doubt he was even wounded."

"Deeks is my partner," Kensi began softly, but incredibly intense. "He's also my husband. He has no reason to lie. And he doesn't make false accusations. He was with his mother, so I doubt very seriously he would attack a federal agent with his mother in tow. And if he said he was wounded, then he's wounded. Now they are both missing, so I suggest we concentrate on finding them instead of standing around listening to your bogus theories and threats."

"Of course you'd say that," the man sputtered. "You're married to the guy."

"I'm not, and neither is Sam," Callen said. "And we back everything Kensi just said."

"What about your partner Pettis?" Sam said. "What does he have to say about what went down here?"

Barrett suddenly looked uncertain and a little embarrassed. "I haven't heard from him?"

"You mean he didn't report in after the incident?" Sam asked, and the man shook his head no.

"Neither the FBI or Pettis contacted my office to let me know he was here," Deputy Marshal McKinnon added.

"He didn't tell me he was coming," Barrett admitted. "We were working an old case. The terrorist case Kyle Hyder and Wanda Kowalski we're involved in."

"Then where the hell is he?" Sam asked.

"No sign of either man when we arrived on scene," Sergeant Torres said. "Just a lot of blood and signs of a struggle."

"Where?" Callen asked.

"Out in the mandarin orchard," Torres said. "Got a forensic team working it right now."

"How do you know that other guy wasn't with your man Deeks?" Barrett asked.

"If Deeks knew him why would he send us a picture of the guy?" Callen said. "He wanted us to run them both through facial rec, which we did, and you're not going to like what we found."

Callen handed Torres a thumb drive, which he quickly plugged into the laptop set up on the wine tasting counter. Pettis' FBI photo ID flashed up on screen, along with a surveillance photo of the other man Eric got from Interpol, along with his rap sheet.

"Meet Darryl Moore, aka Dardan Murati. He's Albanian. Interpol believes him to be an international hit man now working in Los Angeles," Callen said. "Ever seen him before, Agent Barrett?"

"Shit!" Barrett hissed, walking away to stare out the sliding glass door to the patio.

"So, you do know him," Kensi said. "Want to take back the things you said about my partner? Or would you rather I let that go and you tell us what your partner was doing with an Albanian hit man."

The man who turned back to face them looked completely deflated, the news apparently sucking out all the hot air he'd been spewing since they met him. He ran his hand over his close cropped brown hair and cleared his throat.

"We interviewed a man calling himself Darryl Moore several times during a case we were working last summer. We thought he might be involved in the murder of a federal judge."

"Did you check him out with Interpol?" Callen asked.

"Brian handled that," Barrett replied. "When we couldn't tie him to our case, I told Brian it was a dead end...but..."

"But what?" Sam asked.

"Brian talked to him a couple of times after the case wrapped," Barrett said. "When I asked him why, he said he was working another angle. He claimed he was close to making him a CI, but I told Brian the guy didn't strike me that way."

"Why's that?" Callen asked.

"The guy was cold, you know? Like he had nothing inside. He just wasn't the type to take that kind of risk. There was no benefit in it for him," Barrett replied. "But for some reason Brian had connected with the guy during our interrogations, even got some decent intel on one of our other suspects. But...it was weird. It was like the two of them were communicating on a deeper level. One I couldn't understand. And now this? To be honest, I don't know what the hell is going on."

"Your partner is after something," Callen said. "Want to tell us about the reopened case from the seventies you two were working? Maybe share some of your files?"

The man hesitated, and Callen could tell he was remembering something he wasn't sure he should share.

"We both have partners in the wind here," Callen said. "Deeks is out there somewhere and he's wounded, and probably still in danger. Your partner is in trouble here. Whatever it is you're holding back, this is not going to go away. We're all on the same side, Agent Barrett, so if you know something you need to tell us before this gets any worse."

"You're right," he said. "Sorry. It's just that this is so hard to believe. I've worked with Brian for almost two years."

"Then you know him better than anyone here," Sam said. "Which means you know his weaknesses as well as his strengths. That's what's happened isn't it? He gave into one of those weaknesses and now he's in too deep to get out."

"He was up here looking for Wanda Kowalski wasn't he?" McKinnon asked. "He called a few weeks ago to ask about her location, but we'd already lost track of her. Your partner actually yelled at me. He called me incompetent."

"Brian could be a hard ass," Barrett acknowledged.

"What does Roberta Deeks have to do with this case?" Callen asked.

"And what about you McKinnon?" Sam said. "You busted in on Deeks last night. Had your men put their hands on him. All because you wanted to know the whereabouts of his mother. Why? What do you and Pettis think she knows?"

"Wait. I remember that name," Barrett said. "She was mentioned briefly in the cold case file. Brian had a post-it note on his computer with her name and address. I even asked him about it. Said he was going over to talk to her about the Kowalski woman."

"When was that?" Callen asked.

"A few days ago," Barrett said.

"You thinking what I'm thinking, G?" Sam asked.

"Pettis is the one who ransacked Roberta's apartment," Callen reasoned. "Not Scarecrow."

"So what was he looking for?" Kensi asked.

"From what I remember from the files, Roberta Deeks was quite close to Kowalski and Hyder back then," Barrett said. "Just friends, from what the investigation found, but Brian thought she might have been given inside information that has never come to light."

"Like what?" Sam asked.

"There was a lot more going on with that group than just domestic terrorism back then," he replied. "They wanted to build a movement that would change the country. They needed money in order to keep organizing, to buy weapons, explosives, and for bribes to pay for access to federal buildings and to people they believed deserved to be eliminated."

"So they stole it," Callen concluded. "Let me guess. It wasn't all accounted for."

"Not even close."

"But if Wanda or Scarecrow know where the money is, why are they still here?" Kensi asked. "Why not take the money and run?"

"Maybe Roberta Deeks hid it for them," Barrett said.

"What? No way. You're way off base there," Kensi said quickly. "I've known her for a while now, and there is no way she would be a part of anything like what you're suggesting."

"Then why did she come up here to see Wanda Kowalski?" Barrett asked, getting hot again. "Maybe now that Kyle Hyder is out of prison, they could go forward with their plan to retrieve the money and split it. Roberta Deeks and Kyle were close, maybe even lovers. Now that he's out, this is their chance to be together."

"You think those two are like Bonny and Clyde or something? Come on. You're making Roberta out to be some criminal mastermind, and that just doesn't track, man," Sam said with a wide smile. "The woman is an innocent. She makes blueberry pancakes, lasagna, and a mean Tequila Sunrise. She's not leading a secret life. She has a sewing room for heaven's sake. She tells silly jokes like her son. There is no way she had anything to do with hiding stolen money."

"Maybe she doesn't know she knows," McKinnon said. "Wanda was her friend. Maybe she left something with her before we put her into WITSEC. A location. A bank account number for an offshore account. It's a possibility we have to take seriously."

"I still say they were waiting for Kyle Hyder's release," Barrett interjected. "Scarecrow could be the main catalyst for this whole thing."

"Our intel says Wanda was turned over to the DEA after an arrest in San Francisco in '68," Callen said. "How did she end up with the FBI?"

"According to the old case files, she was released by the DEA when she couldn't or wouldn't produce any viable intel on any major drug dealers," Barrett said. "She popped up on the FBI's radar in 1970 as the possible bookkeeper for the anarchist group in LA."

"Okay. So, she handled the stolen money," Sam said. "Any evidence that implicates Roberta?"

"Not really," McKinnon said. "But she's involved somehow, and maybe Agent Pettis figured out how."

"Well he sure as hell didn't tell me," Barrett said.

"I do know one thing," McKinnon said. "There's someone else out there that's involved somehow, and Wanda was afraid of him or them. It's why she was moved so often."

"Who?" Kensi asked.

"That's the crazy part," he replied. "She didn't exactly know who, but it was someone who was involved in the killing of witnesses that happened before the trial in '72."

"Scarecrow?" Barrett asked.

"I thought you believed Scarecrow was Roberta's secret lover and they were joining up with Wanda to split up the money," Sam said. "Which is it?"

"Your right. At this stage I'm just grasping at straws," he said, sounding defeated and angry.

"Start thinking about where your partner might be hold up," Callen said. "If he does know more than what's in those old files we need to find him."

"I put a BOLO out on him and his Albanian friend," Sergeant Torres said. "And I have someone checking the hospitals and clinics too."

"Who authorized you to do that?" Barrett snapped.

"I talked with the Placer County Sheriff, who agreed I should take point on this. The assault happened in our jurisdiction," Torres replied. "I don't need the FBI's permission to do my job."

"Your partner's in hiding, Barrett," Sam said. "Or he would have called in to let you know what was going on. We need to find him and the Albanian."

"Because right now we have more questions than answers," Callen breathed out. "Keep us posted, Sergeant Torres. The three of us are going to check into our hotel and grab some dinner. You have my number. Call if anything or anybody turns up."

"Mind if we take a look at the crime scene before we leave," Sam asked the sergeant.

"Follow me," he said, sounding relieved.

The group of looky-loos were still in front of the nursery when they came out, and Callen asked if they'd been questioned. One look from Torres told him he'd insulted the man, so he smiled and shrugged, hoping there were no hard feelings. This guy knew his job and wasn't the least bit cowed by the fact he was surrounded by federal agents. It gave Callen hope. As they walked up the dirt road past the cafe and approached the mandarin orchard, he reached out and squeezed Kensi's shoulder. She gave him a tremulous smile, then ducked under the crime scene tape and squared her shoulders. Torres stepped in front of her as she started to enter the grove.

"There's a lot of blood on the ground back there," he warned.

"This isn't my first crime scene, Sergeant Torres," she replied.

"From what we can tell, we think most of it's your husband's blood, Mrs. Deeks," he said. "I just want to prepare you."

"Thank you, Sergeant," she replied. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm good."

It was getting late, and the shadows were deep between the rows of mandarin trees. Lights hadn't been erected, so the setting was dim, making it feel intimate and real. The forensic team had finished, but the site was still delineated by yellow crime scene tape. Deeks' struggle was easy to make out and Callen heard Kensi suck in her breath as she took in the blood trail he'd left, the soft soil black with it. It was easy to read the signs of the fight. Callen took a few pictures in the low light to send back to Hetty and Eric, while Sam skirted the scene trying to picture exactly how the attack played out. But it was Kensi who pointed out the second set of footprints.

"Whoever these belong to was in on the action," Sam said. "Probably the guy who took out Pettis and the Albanian."

"We're pretty sure he used a baseball bat," Torres said. "Got a good imprint of one under that mandarin over there. Clocked 'im pretty good I'm guessing."

"Not good enough," Kensi said. "They were able to walk away."

Callen saw Torres recoil slightly at her words. "You sound pretty damn tough."

"We're all pissed off now that we've seen Deeks' blood on the ground," Callen said.

"I think the Albanian used a knife on him," Sam said, pointing to the blood splatter.

"And the guy with the bat is probably the one who helped him out of here," Callen said.

"So he came to help Deeks and Roberta, not hurt them," Kensi said.

"Maybe," Callen mused. "But he has them both now. And Deeks probably went willingly."

"He wouldn't risk his mom getting hurt," Kensi said. "Or he was so badly wounded he couldn't fight back."

"But he survived, Kens," Callen said. "And we will find them. Believe that."

"Yeah, okay," she said, her voice rough with unshed tears.

"Any witnesses?" Sam asked Torres. "Suspicious vehicles?"

"Not a thing, I'm sorry to say," Torres replied. "But we'll keep questioning. Some of the lunch crowd left before we got here. We're checking credit cards for names."

"Let us know if you get anything," Callen said.

"You have my word," he replied. "Where you staying?"

"Same place Deeks was staying. The Residence Inn in Roseville," Sam said.

"Hoping he'll show up?" Torres asked.

"Somehow I don't think this is going to end that easily," Callen said.

...

"Come on, Mama. We're leaving." He remembered saying those words to her after his run in with Angel. At the time it seemed such a simple thing just to walk her out the door and down the street. He didn't care that he had no idea where they were, he just needed to get out of this house and away from Angel and Scarecrow. They were an unknown past, one his mother had never shared, one that he really wished he'd never learned of. His relationship with his mom had been a rollercoaster ride of emotions his whole life. She had been almost nonexistent in parts of his childhood, and maybe he understood that a little better now, but it simply left him angry. During the times she failed to protect him during his father's rages, she'd had a distant look in her eye like she was disassociating herself from what was happening. Now he wondered if she had just been lost in what might have been. Maybe she wasn't thinking of him, her son, but of her lost love, a love full of regrets. Did she regret him as well? Did she wish she'd chosen differently? Was she sorry she hadn't taken the opportunity to run from a bad marriage? Was she sorry his birth had trapped her in a loveless alliance full of recrimination and deep sadness, with violent confrontations that kept all of them fighting for some sort of normalcy that never really came until he'd been forced to shoot his father in desperation? Had she come here to retrieve what she'd lost?

"Martin? Are you okay?" Her voice sounded different to him now.

"I don't know you, do I Mama?"

"Oh, honey. Don't say that."

"Why are we really here?" He asked. "What do these people want from you?"

She looked away from him, and he could feel her reticence, and his anger exploded.

"Dammit, Mama. This is dangerous," he barked, making her flinch. "Two men tried to kill me. Don't you care?"

"Oh, Marty..." she cried as she turned to him. "Of course I care...it's just..."

"Just what?" He pleaded. "What do you want to do, Mama? Want to get the band back together? Pretend it's the sixties and everything's groovy? Well it isn't. Can't you see that?"

"You don't understand," she whispered. "I loved him once."

"Scarecrow?"

"Kyle. I never called him Scarecrow. Wanda called him that," she replied. "She loves him too."

"So one big happy, hippy family, yeah?" He said. "Well just where do I fit in all of this, Mama? What part do I play with you and your old lover?"

"That's not fair," she said. "Kyle saved you. He's a good man. Not like your father."

"You sure about that?" Deeks asked. "He was tried and convicted of domestic terrorism. Yeah, that sounds like something a good man would be involved in. At least dad didn't kill anybody."

"He tried to kill Kyle," Roberta shot back. "He told me that. He went to that bar to kill him."

"This just gets crappier and crappier," he said, his energy draining away. "Okay...we're leaving. It's crazy to stay here. Get your things together. We're going. Now."

"That's not happening, kid," Kyle said as he stepped inside Roberta's bedroom.

"Yeah? And why's that?" Deeks asked, standing to his full height.

"Because she's staying here with me," he replied and raised Deeks' own gun and pointed at him.

"Kyle, what are you doing?" Roberta asked. "Don't do this. Please."

"Tell me where the journal is, Ro," he said. "We'd have been out of here by now if you'd just given it to me when you got here."

"What's in the journal?" Deeks asked.

"You don't need to know that," he replied.

"I do," Roberta said. "I didn't want to give it to you until I knew why you wanted it so bad. It's just a bunch of silly writings about a time that no longer exists."

"Oh, it's much more than that, Ro," Angel said from the doorway. "That FBI Agent is after it too. He figured it out somehow."

"At first I couldn't figure out why that bastard would show up to testify against my release," Kyle said. "But I had a couple of months to think about it. When I got out I staked out the FBI office in LA and I followed him. Every damn day. Never had a clue. Then I followed the sonofabitch to your apartment. We'd lost touch, Ro. I had no idea where you were. But Pettis led me right to you. When I saw him leave and walked into that apartment, I knew it was yours. Then your son showed up."

"Thanks for the black eye, by the way," Deeks said. "Now give me my gun."

"Not happening, sweetheart," Angel said. "Where'd you hide the damn journal, Ro."

"I didn't bring it," Roberta said.

"You're lying," Kyle said. "Pettis tossed your place. He would have found it."

"Does he know about this place?" Deeks asked, suddenly nervous their location might be compromised.

"How could he?" Angel said. "Ro is the only one I told."

"Over the phone?" Deeks asked.

"Yeah, once...shit!"

Yeah...deep shit," Deeks said. "The sonofabitch tapped her phone. He knows where we are."

...

...