Subterfuge (noun) - a stratagem employed to conceal something, evade an argument, etc. Deceit used in order to achieve one's goals.

AN: So, this is something new for me; trying to write a story focussed a lot more on a 'case plot' than character development. It was surprisingly challenging to write, but a fun challenge. The idea was a combination of wanting to write Deeks 'on the other side of the table' and give a (hopefully) new possible reason for Deeks to have remained a LAPD Detective for so long. And then after the recent episode where Sam was accused of murder, the overall plot came together in combining the two ideas, and took a lot more shape, because if Sam and Kensi can be accused of murder, why not Deeks? The first three chapters are written from Callen/neutral POV because that's the only way the story works, but chapter four onward will mainly be from Kensi/Deeks POVs. I know I'm new to writing for NCIS LA and Kensi/Deeks, but I will ask for some faith while you're reading the first few chapters, because it will make sense. There are no spoilers for anything unaired, but there will be mention of several aired episodes (in detail - Hand-to-hand and The Debt).

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am simply borrowing the characters for my own and (hopefully) others' enjoyment.

"This is ridiculous," Sam repeats. He's said it so many times at this point that Callen has lost count. He stopped agreeing about a dozen times ago; around the time he realized Sam isn't looking for agreement. His partner is standing beside him, arms crossed over his chest, anger and frustration with the situation coming off him in waves.

Callen sighs and glances at Kensi. Of the three members of the field team not currently sitting on the wrong side of an interrogation table, he is most worried about her. While he and Sam have spent most of their time in the boatshed standing together as a unified front, staring up at the video feed from the interrogation room, Kensi has kept herself apart. The female agent has spent much of her time pacing back and forth behind the crowd of NCIS and FBI agents who had descended on their lives without warning only a few short hours ago.

He removes himself from his partner's side and approaches the still-pacing agent. Like Sam, her arms are crossed, but the top one is bent upwards, her hand clutched to the ring he knows she wears on a chain under her top. She stops when he approaches her, but doesn't meet his eyes. Her focus is on the video screen.

"How are you holding up?"

She shakes her head and doesn't directly answer the question. "This isn't right. He didn't do anything wrong. He's done nothing but-"

Callen reaches forward and lays a hand on her shoulder. "Hey. You don't need to convince me, Kens. I trust him like I trust Sam and you."

She runs her hand over her face and through her hair. "I just can't believe this is actually happening."

"It'll work itself out. They'll realize they've got the wrong guy." He offers her a smile. "It's not like they can have anything on him, right? I mean, it's Deeks."

XX

The morning had started out like any other morning. Callen had been first to arrive at work. Kensi and Deeks had shown up next. He'd heard them before he'd seen them. They been bickering about paint colours.

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"I-"

"No."

"Okay, but-"

"No."

"How about-"

"No."

Deeks laughed. "Are you going to let me say anything?"

Kensi smirked. "No."

"I'm just saying it's something we can think about."

She rolled her eyes. "We did think about it. You brought about a hundred paint chips home, so we've also gotten the visual. Every room does not need to be a different shade of blue! You spend enough time in the water. We can have normal colour walls at home."

"Fine," he agreed, though his tone made it clear he had just been goading her in the first place. "How about one blue room, where it's light blue at the top and dark blue at the bottom and the colour changes from top to bottom in a gradient?"

Kensi laughed. "You figure out how to paint that and you can go ahead."

Deeks made a face as he sat down at his desk. "Touché."

Kensi smiled as she took her seat next to Callen.

"You guys find a house?" Callen asked.

"Not yet, but we're going to look at a few this weekend," Kensi told him.

"Then why are you talking about paint colours already?"

"I don't know. Ask Martha Stewart over there."

Deeks huffed. "Don't blame this on me. You're the one who brought it up. I just went with it."

"I did not bring it up."

"You did so. Last weekend."

Kensi rolled her eyes and then turned to Callen. "We went to see one house, which was awful."

"Really awful," Deeks added. "Shag carpet awful."

"But the Living room was a nice colour." She looked back to Deeks. "All I said was it would be a nice colour once we find a house."

Deeks sat back in his chair, crossed his arms and nodded. "I rest my case."

"What do you mean you rest your case? That doesn't prove anything!"

"It proves you started it."

"It does not!"

Sam walked in and set his bag down beside his desk. He motioned to the bickering partners. "What are they fighting about now?"

"Paint colours."

Sam lit up. "Did you guys find a house?"

"No!" Kensi and Deeks answered in stereo.

"Oh. Then why are you talking about paint colours?"

Callen jumped up from his desk. "Trust me; you don't want to know." He motioned towards the hallway. "Want to hit the shooting range?"

Sam nodded and goes to follow them, but they only got a couple steps before Eric cut them off with a whistle. They turned to head up the stairs, but Eric held up his hands to motion for them to stay where they were. He hurried down the stairs to meet them.

"What's going on, Eric?" Callen asked. Without any cues, the team comes together to meet the tech operator at the bottom of the stairs.

"I just got a call from Granger," Eric said. His voice was too breathless for just having rushed down the stairs. Something more was clearly going on.

"And?" Sam prompted.

"Something's up. Something big. Something to do with the mole. The taskforce is at the boatshed."

It had been more than a year since Hetty's information had been sold on the internet, and since then there had been an additional handful of unrelated security breaches. And they were no closer to discovering the identity of the mole. An NCIS-FBI taskforce had been created more than a year earlier. Callen and his team had been kept in the loop, but not allowed to be part of the direct investigation. It was deemed they were 'too close' after the events involving Hetty.

"Granger's with them?"

Eric nodded. "And Hetty." He paused. "And Director Vance."

"They must have more intel than they've shared with us," Sam said. "For Vance to be here; they must know who it is."

"For them to be here, it must be someone local," Kensi added.

"What do they want from us? Tactical support?" Deeks asked.

Eric shrugged. "That's where it gets weird. Granger just said for you all to report to the boatshed."

Knowing Eric didn't have any more answers, they left him there and headed for the boatshed in hope of answers.

Sam parked the challenger, and he and Callen jumped out quickly. Kensi and Deeks were right behind them, exiting their SRX. They entered the boatshed in pairs.

Along with Hetty, Granger and Vance, there were the expected four members of the taskforce - two NCIS agents and two FBI agents. But unexpectedly, there was an MCRT team from the LA field office. And they looked like they were expecting confrontation.

Callen met the eyes of one of the senior agents on the team, Agent Carter, whom he had worked with several times before. The older man's expression was one of both sympathy and determination. Callen flicked his gaze to the long-time team leader, a man he could not remember seeing out of the office, Agent Fischer, who appeared uncomfortable with being called into the field. But, like his agent, he also offered Callen a nod of sympathy.

Callen stopped. Around him, his team stopped. Without a word, they formed a protective stance.

"Why do I get the feeling we've been set up?"

Vance and Granger stood together, which was weird in itself. Callen couldn't remember ever seeing the director and assistant director in the same place at the same time. He was pretty sure it was some kind of security breach. Vance met his eyes, very little expression there. Granger, not one to normally offer any expression, actually looked...surprised? To their left, Hetty stood apart, clearly unhappy with the situation.

"Apparently we've all been set up, Mr. Callen," Hetty told him. "For more than a year now these people have been wasting valuable time and resources supposedly hunting for the mole."

Callen flicked his gaze towards the taskforce and then back to Hetty. "And?"

"And we found him," Agent Tom Winters, the head FBI agent on the taskforce, answered before Hetty could.

"That is a matter of opinion. The wrong opinion," Hetty said back.

"Ms. Lang, if you can please allow us to do our job." This time the plea came from the NCIS side of the taskforce. Agent Amelia Langford, a very senior agent with almost thirty years of experience with NCIS.

"Who is it?" Callen demanded. He glared at the LA field agents when they started to circle around his team. They stopped and looked towards Agent Winters for direction. "What the hell is going on? Either you be straight with us or we're out of here."

Winters approached them cautiously, hands help up, no sudden movements. "We just want this to go smoothly. No one needs to get hurt."

"Smoothly? It sounds to me like you're accusing my team of something!"

Winters shook his head. "Not your team, Agent Callen. Just one member."

"How dare you!" He stepped forward, ready to defend each member of his team.

"Stand down, Agent Callen," Vance called, striding forward and shaking his head. He motioned for Winters to back off.

"Sir, I-"

"My agency, my people, my call."

The FBI agent nodded and re-joined his fellow taskforce members.

"Director-"

"I know how you're feeling," Vance interrupted him. "I felt the same way. But they have evidence. At the very least, we need to let them ask some questions and give some answers."

"G," Sam said, always the voice of reason between them.

Called took a breath. "Who?"

Vance looked past him. "Detective Deeks, I'm going to ask you to hand over your weapon willingly. And then the taskforce has some questions for you."

Callen spun around. Deeks looked shocked. As did his partner beside him.

"Me?" He sputtered for a moment. "But I... What could they possibly... I didn't... What?"

"No." Kensi declared, immediately standing up for her partner. "This is a waste of time. They think he's the mole? No. This is not going to happen."

The director stepped forward. "Detective, your weapon?" He held out his hand. "Please don't make this more difficult than it needs to be."

"Director Vance, I didn't do anything," Deeks insisted.

"Then you'll have answers to all of their questions and we'll be done with this by lunch."

Deeks stared at him for a long moment and then very slowly pulled his Beretta from the small of his back and placed it in the Director's hand.

"Thank you, Detective."

Deeks then crouched down and pulled his spare from his ankle holster and passed that off as well.

Vance smiled. "That all?"

Deeks shrugged and pulled his sayoc knife from his waist band. Vance held his hand out for it, but Deeks passed it to Kensi, who was seething beside him. "For safe keeping," he explained. "It was a gift."

Kensi took the knife and secured it on her waist band, alongside her own knife.

Vance led him towards the interrogation room. Winters stepped forward with handcuffs, but Vance shook his head. "Right now this is only an interview."

Callen watched on the video feed as Deeks was seated on the suspect side of the table. Winters and Langford sat across from him.

"For the record, Mr. Deeks, you're here to be questioned because you are suspected of treason, espionage..." The questioning began.

"This is ridiculous," Sam said for the first time. He and Callen were practically shoulder to shoulder, watching the video screen. Kensi was spitting mad, pacing angrily behind them, so Callen was giving her a chance to cool off before he attempted to approach her.

"Do you understand those charges and their implications, Mr. Deeks?" Langford asked Deeks.

"I'm not admitting to any of them, but yes, I understand what the charges mean."

"At this point, would you like to have legal counsel present for questioning?"

Deeks shook his head. "I'm a lawyer. And I'm innocent. So, I don't see the need to have additional legal counsel present."

"Do you have any questions before we get started?"

"Yes, one."

Winters nods for him to ask.

"Do either of you know how to paint in a gradient? You know; light colour on the top, dark on the bottom? My partner and I are buying a house and I'm trying to design a room to look like the ocean and-"

"Mr. Deeks, can you try and take this seriously?"

"I'm just trying to get something productive out of this conversation. Seeing as you're wasting my time and all, I may as well see if you have some useful information for me."

Winters sighed. "Let's move on."

Deeks sat back in his chair. "You guys aren't very good at this. I mean, this is supposed to be an 'interview,' and neither of you actually answered my question."

Callen actually had to bite back a smile when Deeks successfully gets both Winters and Langford to tell him they don't know how to paint in a gradient. He then allows them to move on with the interrogation. They start with reviewing the details of the case that everyone already knows. Almost a year and a half earlier, a mole was suspected within the ranks of NCIS when sensitive information was leaked. It had to be someone with a higher than average security clearance.

"Higher than average narrows it down to half," Deeks pointed out. "Which is a lot of interviews. Am I just first on your list?"

"You fit a number of other unique criteria."

"Such as?"

"We'll get to that, Detective." Winters sat back in his chair. "You've been working with NCIS for almost six years now."

Deeks nodded. "April two thousand and ten. It'll be six years next month."

"That's a long time for a liaison position."

Deeks shrugged. "Wouldn't know. It's been my only liaison position."

"It's also a very...unique position you've found yourself in. An LAPD detective, working with a team of NCIS agents. Access to both local and federal information. With a higher security clearance than most federal employees. It allows you to be underestimated my most, while allowing you access to more information than most would begin to dream of."

Deeks leaned forward. "If you want to discuss the intricacies of my position, I'd direct you to Director Vance, Assistant Direct Granger, or Operations Manager Hetty Lange, all of whom are in the other room and I'm sure would be happy to speak with you. I had nothing to do with the structuring of my position or the level of my security clearance."

"But you did choose to remain in your liaison position," Winters pointed out.

Deeks sat up. "Yes, I did. Now you're questioning my career choices? This isn't an opportunity you turn down. Why would I walk away from it?"

Winters smiled. "I wasn't questioning why you never returned to the LAPD. I was questioning why you never applied to become an NCIS agent. After a year or two, I can understand. But almost six?"

"I'm a cop." Deeks stated. "I shouldn't have to justify that."

"You're going to have to try," Langford spoke up.

Deeks sighed. "It's just...important to me, to be a cop. And I've done this job, as you said, for almost six years. And no one has ever questioned my conduct or my loyalties until right now. And, may I point out, NCIS recruited me to this position in the first place. I was perfectly fine on my own being 'just a cop.'"

"We'll come back to that," Winters said. He opened the file on the table in front of him and pulled out the top piece of paper. He placed the paper down in front of Deeks. "Do you recognize this?"

Deeks stared down at the paper and nodded. "It's a list of Hetty's old addresses. The ones that were compromised by the mole."

"It's interesting that you knew that by memory."

"I'm a field agent and an undercover operative. If I can't memorize things, I die. Also, what other list of addresses would you be showing me?"

Winters apparently didn't have a good response, so he moved on. He tapped on the paper in front of Deeks. "You were on a short list of people with access to this information."

Deeks shook his head. "That's where you're wrong. I didn't have access to this information."

"You didn't know where Henrietta Lange lived?"

"No."

"You're telling us, at the time, you worked for her for more than four years, and you didn't know any of her addresses."

"That's what I'm saying."

"Tell us what you did know."

"I'd heard the rumour that she had multiple properties; you know, the whole Hetty sleeps in a different house every night rumour." He paused and considered his own words. "Is it a rumour if it's true?"

"Please focus, Mr. Deeks."

Deeks appeared to debate continuing on his tangent, but sighed and followed his directive. "I knew she had a boat; but I didn't know what it was called or where it was kept. I had known where one previous property was, but I knew she got rid of it after it was compromised due to an earlier case."

"Go on."

"There was a shoot out in her driveway and garage."

"Were you involved?"

"No. Agents Callen and Hannah were involved. As was her most prized possession; her jaguar. My partner and I were there after."

Callen avoided looking toward Hetty after Deeks's reminder of the damage to her jaguar. He glanced to his side to see what his partner thought, but Sam was still exuding anger.

"This is-" Sam started to say.

"Ridiculous, I know," Callen said, finishing the thought. He turned his attention back to the video screen. "I know."

"How can we just stand here and allow this to happen?"

"I don't see how we can't allow this to happen," Callen said. "It's not like they're going to find anything."

"I don't like it."

"I don't either. I'm sure they're just going after Deeks because he's not an agent. Let them get their answers. If it gets out of hand, we'll step in."

"Oh, I'm ready to step in."

"Just don't do anything stupid," Callen cautioned. "I feel like this is a house of cards. The last thing we want to do is make things worse for Deeks."

Sam nodded in agreement.

Callen looked back to the video screen. Winters and Langford were walking Deeks through his scholarly and professional history; having him confirm schools attended and dates of graduation, passing the bar exam, working for the DAs Office, joining the LAPD, bouncing around departments until he fell into undercover work. Making detective. Awards and accommodations.

"This is ridiculous," Sam repeats for the umpteenth time, prompting Callen to leave his side and approach Kensi.

XX

"How are you holding up?"

She shakes her head and doesn't directly answer the question. "This isn't right. He didn't do anything wrong. He's done nothing but-"

Callen reaches forward and lays a hand on her shoulder. "Hey. You don't need to convince me, Kens. I trust him like I trust Sam and you."

She runs her hand over her face and through her hair. "I just can't believe this is actually happening."

"It'll work itself out. They'll realize they've got the wrong guy." He offers her a smile. "It's not like they can have anything on him, right? I mean, it's Deeks."

Kensi nods. "I know. I just..."

Callen stands beside her and bumps her shoulder with his. "I get it, Kens. You don't need to be his partner right now."

"I'm always his partner," she shoots back, stubbornly.

He has to smile at that. "I mean, you don't need to be just his partner right now. You two have done remarkable well at keeping your personal life separate from work. But this doesn't exactly count. You get to be the scared fiancée right now, and no one will judge you for that."

Apparently, she takes his words to heart, because she actually leans into him and rests her head on his shoulder for a moment. Callen debates putting his arm around her in support, but he's kind of afraid to move. Kensi's not one to reach out for physical contact, ever. This is so far out of character that he's immediately twice as concerned about the fallout of the team allowing Deeks to be questioned. In the end, he decides it's best not to move, lest he scare her off.

"You know we don't believe this for a second, right?"

"I know."

She doesn't sound like she's crying, so that's a good sign. Callen can breathe a little easier. "They've singled him out because he's different; because he's a cop working with agents and whatever other BS reasons they think they have. They don't know him like we do. You and me and Sam have his back. And you know Hetty and Vance and Granger do too. And Eric and Nell will move mountains to clear his name if it comes to that."

"I know."

"And you guys will find a house. Hopefully soon, because you're driving Sam and I crazy with the looking." This gets him a laugh. "And after we let Deeks go crazy for, let's say a month, trying to figure out how to paint walls in a gradient of colour, I'll point out he could just buy wallpaper."

Kensi stands up straight at that and punches him lightly in the arm. "Don't tell him that! I don't want stupid gradient blue walls all over my house!"

"But you told him he could have them."

"Because I knew there was no way he could paint them."

Callen laughs. "Evil."

Kensi laughs, too. "Truthfully, I don't care what colour the walls are." She looks to the video screen, where Deeks is explaining his role at LAPD prior to his first interaction with NCIS. "I just need him there with me," she admits.

Her words actually make Callen smile. He's reminded of how closed off she was and for how long. Deeks brought her out of a shell he hadn't even realized Kensi was in. The old Kensi would never have admitted needing anyone in any way, shape or form. "He will be," Callen says, no doubt in his mind.

The remaining two members of the taskforce not in the interrogation room begin organizing themselves. They announce they will be taking the LA field office MCRT team to Deeks's place of residence for a thorough search.

And, in one moment, all of Callen's efforts to calm Kensi go out the window. She storms towards them. "You have no right to enter his home. We all know you need-"

"A warrant?" Agent Larson, the other FBI agent cuts her off. He passes her a document.

Kensi stares down at the document in shock. "You...you have a warrant?" A warrant means this is more than just questions needing answers. A warrant means they have enough solid information to have a judge sign off on the warrant. A warrant means...Deeks may actually be in trouble.

"It's our understanding that you and Detective Deeks live together?" Agent Larson says snidely. Kensi had moved into Deeks's apartment around the time they had gotten engaged. He doesn't wait for an answer. "Then we'll consider this warrant served."

"How did you get a warrant?" Kensi asks, almost meekly, still staring down at the document in her hands.

Larson doesn't respond to her question. "You may accompany us if you wish."

Kensi looks up, clearly torn between wanting to stay in the boatshed with Deeks while he is questioned and wanting to be there while they search their apartment.

Callen steps up beside Kensi. "You stay here," he tells her. "Sam or I will go."

She nods. "Thank you."

Callen explains the situation to Sam. "I think you should go," he tells his partner. "You're practically radiating anger. You need a break. Go spend a few hours pissing off the taskforce at Deeks and Kensi's apartment."

Sam agrees.

Kensi turns her keys over to him.

Sam tries to offer her a supportive smile, but it falls flat. "Anything I should know about?"

"Monty is home. He won't understand...but he'll know you. The neighbor to the left, Mrs. Morris, loves having him if she's home. She thinks Deeks is just a cop and I'm a personal assistant who travels a lot."

Sam nods. "Okay."

Kensi runs a hand through her hair. "We both have personal weapons in a safe, both registered. And my dad's sniper rifle, also registered. Some cash in the safe; a few hundred dollars, maybe a grand. Because Deeks needs to be prepared for anything. Legal documents. Nothing suspicious." She takes an unsteady breath. "But...our things..."

"I'll make sure they're respectful."

"Thank you, Sam."

Sam leaves with the taskforce and MCRT unit.

Callen convinces Kensi to stand with him by the video screen instead of pacing. She stands almost perfectly still, arms crossed, upper arm bent and hand clutched to the engagement ring hanging around her neck.

Onscreen, Deeks has finished explaining the Daniel Zuna case and his early days with NCIS.

"Would you say you're good at creating a character, Mr. Deeks? At playing a role?"

Deeks sighs. "I'm an undercover operator."

"That's not an answer."

"Yes. That's something I'm good at. That's something I have to be good at, or I would have been made and killed years ago. That's why NCIS recruited me."

"So, you're saying you have to skills to play a role, say for several years."

Deeks runs a hand through his hair.

"Please answer the question."

"I'm an undercover operator," Deeks repeats. "Before working with NCIS, I had several assignments with the LAPD that were longer than six months. One was longer than a year. So, yes, I have the skills to create a character and play a role." He pauses. "I just don't have the need-"

"You answered the question. We don't need you to expand right now."

Deeks releases a frustrated breath. "It seems like you want to be telling the story instead of listening to my answers. Why don't you just tell me the evidence you have against me instead of going through this ridiculous charade? Because it seems to me like all you have against me are some unfounded accusations because you don't like that I'm a cop working with agents and I happen to know Hetty, and her information was compromised a year and a half ago."

Winters smirks. "Humour us a little longer and we'll move a little faster, how about that?" He doesn't give Deeks a chance to reply. "Do you know Detective Monroe?"

At this, Deeks sits up straighter in his chair. "Phillip Monroe?"

Outside the room, Callen glances to his left when Kensi sucks in a breath of air.

"Who is he?" Callen asks.

"An undercover detective Deeks used to work with."

"Do you know him?" Callen prompts.

Kensi shakes her head. "I only met him once. But then..." She trails off.

"But then..." He prompts.

She meets his eyes. "I went with Deeks to his funeral last year."

Back inside the interrogation room, Deeks shakes his head. "What does Monroe have to do with this?"

"You tell me?" Winters says darkly.

Deeks slams his hands down on the table and stands. "You're accusing me of burning him? How dare you! Monroe was a friend!"

"Monroe's cover inside a drug cartel was blow last year. He was killed on the spot." Winters states. "It was a joint LAPD-FBI operation. We were two weeks away from taking down a huge player in drugs and weapons."

Deeks begins pacing back and forth behind the table. "I didn't know any details about his operation. I only know his cover was blown. He was a friend," he repeats.

"Sit down, Mr. Deeks."

Deeks collapses onto his chair. "It's an open case. LAPD blamed FBI for the leak. FBI blamed LAPD for the leak. Cartel up and left. Left his body as a statement."

"So, you do know some details."

"I didn't know any details about what he was doing at the time. After he was killed, I heard some rumours at the funeral. I...asked our technical operator at NCIS to look into the investigation. I was able to confirm he had been undercover with a cartel; I still don't know which one. I found out it was a joint operation between FBI and LAPD. Once a month, our technical operator lets me know if there are any new leads; there never are."

Callen sighs as he watches Winters begin to pick apart Deeks's motives in being interested in the case. Strictly speaking, Monroe's death was outside NCIS jurisdiction, but far from solid evidence that Deeks is the mole. Winters is so very confident, though. Callen's pretty sure he's still holding back an ace up his sleeve; possibly several.

Kensi leaves his side and resumes her pacing. He lets her be. He and Hetty exchange a worried glance; worried both for Deeks and for Kensi.

The interrogation continues. Deeks is forced to explain in detail when exactly he found out his friend had been killed, by whom and what he did after. He explains when he went to the funeral, that Kensi went with him, who he talked to when he was there, and when he first approached Eric for help afterwards.

The topic finally seems to be wrapping up when Callen's phone rings. He glances at the caller ID as he answers the call. "Sam. Tell me things are going better there than here."

"G, we got a problem."

It's more Sam's tone than his words that cause that first wave of realization to wash over Callen. Because maybe - just maybe - they're already in too deep and this is something they can't win.

Callen moves to a quiet corner of the boatshed. "What?"

"They had a forensic team waiting for us when we got here."

"So?"

"They scanned everything they could, including the flower beds outside the front door."

Callen took a breath. "What did they find?"

"A bag with documents. Buried deep, G, right at the back, under that giant bush."

"Documents?"

"Passports. ID. All with Deeks's picture. None with his name." Sam pauses. "Also, cash. And what looks like some sort of account numbers. And some documents in code."

Callen schooled his features as he glanced around the room. "Okay. He's being set up. Winters has something on him he hasn't announced yet, but he's building up to something big. Someone buried that bag in his flower bed to set him up."

"I want to believe you, G, but the roots of the bush had grown through the bag."

"What?"

Sam hesitates, but then presses on. "The forensic guy says the bag has been there three to five years."

AN: Chapter two should be up in a day or two. Please stick with me through the first few chapters and keep in mind I love these characters, too...