Myriam was annoyed. Not just annoyed, but pissed off. As she and Sheppard made their way to the storage locker for the evidence, she was not pleased that she would be forced to rely on local resources. That meant potentially more run-ins with 5-0.
“Vance better get everything arranged by the time we get to their lab because the less I have to deal with these people, the better,” she muttered as her hands gripped the steering wheel.
“I’d say a day or two,” Shep sighed as he ran a hand through his unruly thick brown hair.
She glared over at him. “You think so? I would be lucky if it were only a day or two. First NCIS sends me home to New Orleans to cover for an agent knowing that was the last city I’d ever want to step foot in, then they sent me to this hell of a nightmare, and you see what I’ve had to deal with since. You think two days is all we will have to deal with them? No. Someone in DC is fucking with me. This is like my nightmares come to life! Next thing I know, my father will show up out of nowhere!”
“I think you’re over exaggerating,” he carefully replied.
Instead of responding verbally, her foot pressed on the gas pedal, and she followed the GPS directions on the navigation. Finishing what they had to at the storage, they made their way to HPD in silence.
Walking inside, she looked around with a raised brow. Approaching the desk, Myriam pulled out her ID and showed the officer. “My Director was supposed to have called and arranged an agreement for the use of your forensic services.”
The officer just gave them a blank stare that only further raised Myriam’s irritated more. Thankfully, a lieutenant came scurrying from the back, giving the desk officer an excuse and greeting the pair. “I’m so sorry about that. NCIS right? I spoke with a Director Vance, and he briefed me about your situation. I’m sorry to hear about your tech. I hope things work out for you, but you’re welcome to use our services as you need and I can assure you that all your evidence will remain secure and properly handled. I can show you where to go and make you a couple of IDs for use inside the building that lets you go there without having to wait for one of my officers,” he trailed off with a disappointed glance towards the desk as he lead the two towards the stairs.
Myriam remained silent as she calmed down, finally getting what she needed. The tour wasn’t long, which made her happy, and the lab technician wasn’t as annoying as she had feared. The quip about them doing the processing for 5-0 was the norm, so handling security requirements that NCIS was asking wasn’t a problem, got under her skin and before she could comment, Sheppard was already thanking and excusing the two.
“What-”
“Shh,” Shep said as he lead her out of the building. “Let’s try and dig some into our sailor’s life and see if our ME has already received his body.”
She drew in a breath and nodded. “Yes, yes. Let’s go. If those 5-0 imbeciles haven’t done like they said they would, I’ll go down to their offices and show them exactly who they are messing with.”
Luckily when they returned to NCIS and found their ME, he was in possession of the body. The local one hadn’t begun her examination yet, but he also vouched for her accuracy and tenacity for details. While he was not objecting to working, if the agents allowed Dr. Cunha to perform, he’d back her results.
After getting the report on the victim, Myriam walked out of the ME’s office with a sigh and intense desire for a bottle of wine. “So, tell me. Does anyone on this island other than the locals it seems, ever want to do their jobs?”
Sheppard offered a reassuring smile. “It’s Hawaii. It’s always surf time, but you might be overthinking things. Considering you’re from New Orleans, I would think that you’d understand that some might take a little bit easier way with their jobs if their careers allow it? Isn’t the saying for that city is that there is a party going on somewhere? Well, here, there is always a wave to catch.”
The darkened glare she gave him, was one that often left her brothers nervous. “I left New Orleans when I was fifteen. Not exactly by choice, but I moved outside of DC and been there pretty much since unless it was for work. So, to answer your questions, while I may be from New Orleans, I don’t exactly share the same ethics of the city residents on all accounts.”
“Fair enough,” he nodded. “Now, we have a nearly empty room with only potentially trace evidence that we have to wait on HPD labs for and the guy is beaten damn near recognition.”
“We inform his mother that he’s found and we’re investigating,” she answered as even as possible.
Sheppard eyed her curiously, unsure about the drop of tone in the way she had spoken. Leaving it be, he followed her to her car and gave the directions to Petty Officer Tesla’s mother’s house where she was renting during the investigations.
Arriving at the house, Myriam was quiet as she got out and stared at the building. Breaking news to the family about their passing was never an easy task and being on the receiving end it was even harder. After having a moment to collect her thoughts, she nodded to her partner and started up the walkway.
Before they even reached the door, it was pushed open, and a concerned woman greeted them. “Are you here about my son?” she asked.
Myriam hesitated for a moment and nodded, unable to give that initial verbal declaration. “May we go inside to talk?”
Mrs. Tesla blinked, raising a hand to her mouth and went back inside, holding the screen open. When Myriam was about to walk in, she took a quick glance at the neighbors’ houses and street. Frowning, she eyed a familiar car parked two doors down and shook her head. Lifting her hand to scratch her temple with her middle finger, she stepped inside the house quickly dropping her hands.
Mrs. Tesla had returned to the sitting room with a pitcher of ice water and glasses before taking a seat, apprehensive over what would about to be said. “My son is dead, isn’t he?”
Myriam sat across from her, watching intently with a slightly confused expression in her eyes and nodded. “My name is Myriam Mikaelson, and I believe you met my partner, Jon Sheppard already. I’ve taken over NCIS here in Hawaii and HPD informed us that they believed they found your son. Fingerprints matched and it was confirmed,” she quietly introduced and explained.
The older woman leaned forward and put her face in her hands. “Somehow I felt like this news was going to come. I just kept hoping that it wouldn’t come true,” she whispered. She went silent as she absorbed the information, closing her eyes as tears fell. The agents allowed her all the time she needed, even though Sheppard soon grew anxious and antsy from the quiet. Before long, Mrs. Tesla looked up at Myriam. “Can I see my son?”
The agent blew out a breath of air, anticipating the question and rubbed her hands together. “We could bring you to see him, but right now, I’d recommend against it. Seeing him the way he is, in the way he was found, is not how you should remember him,” she answered, drawing back on how she’d recalled believing the scene that her brother had killed her other brother and what it had done to herself. “Let the next time you see him be after he’s released and cleaned up. We’re investigating this, I assure you of that, but it’s going to be difficult because when we searched his barracks, there were minimal personable items around so that we could get to know him better. We are trying to piece together who might have been after him or what he got into that got him into trouble.”
“Henry was always so kind, and he had a big heart. He was always willing to help out just about anything,” the woman sniffed. “But he was also very impressionable, you know, that’s why we wanted him to follow in his father’s footsteps and join the Navy.”
Myriam nodded as she took out her notepad and put it in her lap, all the while observing the woman. While she expressed the right amount of grief for a mother, it looked as if she was hiding something. “Ma’am, if your son was involved in anything… you can tell us. In fact, it might help us.”
Mrs. Tesla sighed as she quickly looked over to some of the pictures she had of her family on the table near the windows. “Henry made some bad decisions in life, and a couple of weeks ago he came home and told me everything was taken care of, like a miracle. Oh, I should have known it wasn’t good… who miraculously pays off their debts without winning the lottery?”
“Did he say who helped him out?”
“No, I’m afraid not, perhaps you could ask his girlfriend? Uh… Amelia? They’ve only started dating.”
Myriam’s eyes furrowed at the name. “Did he mention the last name? We didn’t find any signs of a girlfriend in his room.”
“He kept his things here,” Mrs. Tesla smiled then and pointed upstairs. “First room on your right. Feel free to look through his things, if you wish.” She then remembered something as she pulled out her phone. “Oh, this is a picture Henry sent me a few weeks ago, from New Orleans.”
“New Orleans?” Myriam repeated, not liking where this was going. “What was he doing in New Orleans?”
“Well, as far as I know, he was there for work,” Mrs. Tesla replied.
Myriam took the phone to look at the photo. She frowned at the image, nodding slightly. “We will have to verify the information about that trip with his CO, of course. But we would certainly like to look in his room.”
Shep took the phone and sent it to his phone before handing the phone back to Mrs. Tesla before following Myriam upstairs. “I know that look.”
“What look?”
“You think something’s up or connected to something.”
“Rule 39; There’s no such thing as coincidences,” Myriam replied with a sigh as she opened the door to Henry’s room. “I may have to tell you what I was up to in New Orleans when we get back.”
“Sounds mysterious,” he replied as he slipped gloves on and lifted the mattress. “Didn’t 5-0 or HPD say that she was only renting the place here? They seem pretty well settled in.”
Myriam shrugged as she put on her gloves and grabbed the camera. “When you move around a lot, it’s easy to make a home your home. Rental or not. It becomes like second nature and who knows? Perhaps Mrs. Tesla would like to retire here, why not make it into her own little home? Or…”
“Or,” Sheppard added. “There was more money than we found and he bought her this house with some of it.”
“Or the mysterious girlfriend is trying set up a cozy life for herself where she thinks no one will find or recognize her,” she replied as she found some pictures. She sat on the bed to take a look at them, having memorized her last target’s face well. “Looks like she’s dying her hair. Don’t she know it’s gonna make it look worse eventually?”
Shep looked over his boss’ shoulder to see the pictures. “What? You know her?”
“Oh yeah,” Myriam let out a breath and nodded. “This is a case of rule 39. Keep looking; I need to make a few phone calls. Outside. By myself.”
“And when we get back?”
“I’ll clue you in,” Myriam promised as she bagged the pictures and took them outside with her before dialing Pride’s number. She clocked the 5-0 car again and sighed as she waited for her friend to answer.
“Hello? What?!”
“Oh relax, I’m only five hours ahead of you, Pride,” Myriam rolled her eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“Yeah, I know. I’m fine. Bones are getting old. How’s the sunshine and sand?”
“I fired most of my team here and had to start over. Still, have to wait for Vance to send over personnel files. Anyway… Can I borrow LaSalle?”
“… why do you want Chris? What are you up to there? Too much sand in your head?”
“Dead sailor involved with Amelia Parsons.”
Silence on the phone was all the response she got for two solid minutes. “Oh.”
“I’m short on staff. I have one good Agent, fired the rest of them. I could use Chris because he knows about the case. Hell, send Gregorio. I’m sure Nick would like to see her.”
“You do know that Parsons got the IRS on his back and he’s got to be available to them in Alabama whenever they call. It’s not that easy.”
“Fine!” Myriam whined. “Send Gregorio or Sebastian. I’m down a tech too.”
Pride couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Making friends, huh? Sure, I’ll send Sebastian over.”
“Vance has me using HPD labs in the meanwhile,” she muttered as she glared over at the Charger again.
“Sebastian is on the next flight,” Pride said as some shuffling could be heard on the background. “Anything else I can do for you? Want me to send you the case files?”
“Yes. And tell him to pack trunks. When he isn’t busy here, he can follow my brother.”
“Will do. Be careful Myriam, please. Maybe clue in the local Leos if things get too rough.”
“Always am. And do I have to?” She whined again, still watching the car.
“Well… you do have very creative brothers.”
“Who have talents for breaking the law. I just want to make sure they are keeping their promises.”
“As long as they bend and don’t break, nothing is wrong, right?” Pride chuckled. “Okay, I’ll make sure Sebastian makes it safely to the airport, and I will email you the case files. Call me when you need anything else.”
“Your gumbo.”
“Anything else but food.”
Myriam scowled. “Thanks for sending Sebastian. We’ll be eagerly awaiting his arrival. Thanks again, Pride. I owe you one.”
Sheppard came outside carrying a box with more evidence bags in them. “So, before we go back, we’re going to the 5-0 lab again?”
“No,” Myriam said as she kept her eye on the car. “We have someone come in in about 12 hours from New Orleans. He’s an agent and a tech. I want to keep this close to the vest now.”
“Sure thing, boss,” Shep lightly said as he walked over to their car. “You know, looking at them doesn’t solve anything.”
“No, but at least when I keep my eye on them, they won’t move.”
“Ah, kinda like the Weeping Angels in Doctor Who.”
“What now?”
“Statues? If you look at them, they don’t move? But take your eyes off of them, and they transport you to another place in time?” Shep looked at her sheepishly. “I so miss someone to be a geek around with.”
“Ah,” she nodded as she got into their car. “You’re gonna like Sebastian.”
~o.O.o~
Myriam threw her keys on the side table after coming home and headed straight for the table that held their alcohol and poured herself a royally filled glass of bourbon before sitting down in a chair with a deep sigh before finally noticing her brothers. “Oh, hi.”
“Rough day?”
“Yep.”
“Anything we can help you with?”
Myriam looked over to her brothers with a sigh. “You need a hobby to keep yourselves busy.”
“No, we’re doing just fine, thanks,” Cole said as he made his way over to his baby sister and sat down on the coffee table in front of her to pull off her shoes. “But we can’t stand by and watch our sister having rough days,” he said as he pulled off her socks and started to massage her foot.
She stared at him, stuck between disturbed by her brother’s actions and enjoying the treatment to complain. “I’m a federal agent. I can’t exactly share everything that goes on at work, and the current situation is a holdover from New Orleans. That’s all I can admit.”
“Nick was thinking about becoming a cop,” Cole snickered as he continued to massage Myriam’s foot.
Nick huffed in surprise. “That was a joke!” He retorted. “Besides, I’m far too busy.”
Myriam snapped her head towards her brother and narrowed her eyes at him. “Doing what, exactly?”
“Relax, love,” he laughed. “While our brother is enjoying his freedom, I’m thinking about finding myself a job. A legal one. One that doesn’t invite trouble. Perhaps a car mechanic.”
Myriam burst out laughing at his suggestion for a job. “I don’t see you getting dirty like that,” she admitted. “Perhaps you should start somewhere else. I can try looking when I’m out on the road working this case.”
“What exactly are you up to anyway? Since you left to check out the office the other day, we’ve rarely seen you,” Nick pointed out.
Letting out a sigh, she let her head back and rest on the couch. “I’m investigating a dead petty officer who has a connection to an attempted murder the team was working back in New Orleans.”
“Wait, wasn’t that connected to Zahra?” Cole said immediately. “Somewhat?”
She looked over at him and narrowed her eyes. “Just what did you hear in that jail?”
He impishly grinned as he scratched the back of his head. “When the Mayor is doing something that they shouldn’t be doing… People talk. And I eavesdrop.”
“So you could have told NCIS about that, and likely would have kept our sister safe!” Nick shot at him.
“I didn’t hear anything about that!” Cole retorted. “I was as surprised as you were!”
Myriam nudged Cole with her foot. “Hey, it’s okay. Tell me what you heard. I can’t use it because it’s hearsay and I won’t tell Pride because he’ll turn that jail upside down and people will find out it was you who talked. But tell me, maybe it can give me some insight,” she said kindly.
There was no doubt that Cole knew more things. While he’d been safe for a while in jail because of his name and reputation, he’d likely have kept his head down apart from the occasional fight. Her brothers were smart, calculating and knew exactly what to do to manipulate people. However, she wasn’t going to use Cole as a source. Ever. She wasn’t going to allow Pride to use Cole as a source either. He deserved a better life, and perhaps that was why Hawaii hadn’t been all too bad.
Oh, she still hated the transfer. However, she didn’t want to be without her brothers, and they seemingly enjoyed themselves very much here.
Cole volunteered the information about the Mayor himself. Myriam didn’t feel too bad about asking him if he knew more.
Cole sighed as he retook hold of Myriam’s foot and continued his massage. “It was a couple of months ago. No names were being named, but I managed to piece together that the Mayor wanted to have someone taken out of the picture. Someone important to law enforcement. Seemingly the Mayor’s not so legal flunkies met with a few at the prison for information.”
“Well, that could easily have been a conversation about the Deputy Chief. Not Pride. Or it could have been the former Mayor, Hamilton,” Myriam summed up. “Nothing specific, and nothing that ties to this case, sorry brother, but thanks.”
“I could try to get information?”
“No,” she smiled at him. “I want you to stay here and to be safe. With Nick and me.”
“You just like your foot rubs.”
“Oh, maybe,” she happily sighed as she took a drink from her glass. “But I mean it, though. No more hinky stuff.”