MARINE BASE
"Who's on the range?" Howe asked as he and his trainees approached and heard the rapid report of a sidearm.
"Thomas," Mathis replied shortly as he came out and drew Howe aside. "You told him about the murders?"
"I...mentioned it," Howe replied, squinting onto the field.
"Well, that's his solution," Mathis replied in irritation, waving toward the field.
Howe watched as recruiter stood behind the waitress, looking far more lethal than she generally did: mufflers on her ears, dressed in jeans and a jacket and wielding a small handgun. She could look pretty lethal when she was angry and carrying just a tray. "She's pretty good."
"The whole base was buzzing about her ability with a rifle." Mathis grumbled. "Seems Thomas got her to help him and a few others take down a cheating riflery booth when the carnival hit Grape Hills last month."
"She can use a rifle?" Howe was surprised.
"And a shotgun. She shot rifles on her high school team."
"Wouldn't take much to translate to small arms," Howe muttered. He watched as the recruiter shook his head briefly and said something; she paused and he came up behind her and pushed on her shoulders a little bit. She shot off a round, and there were a few mutters from the recruits as the two went to look at her target. Howe raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes...she was a pretty good shot. Not perfect, but very good.
As his arm came down, his lips pressed into a thin line, the MP raised an eyebrow at him and gestured slightly at the scene. "He's teaching her how to shoot."
"I can see that, Mathis." Howe set the binoculars aside. "I taught Theodora. Most of the guys here teach their girlfriends and wives."
"Yeah, when they're very serious - generally married." Mathis shook his head. "I hope NCIS catches their guy fast, because trust me - " he waved at the Marine and the waitresss heading back to the firing line " - a gun isn't going to stop formaldehyde poisoning."
HOWE HOME
Theodora chuckled as she watched her oldest in the driveway, playing pickup basketball with some of the Marines and the waitresses. Her husband had asked if she would take a look at something for him, and she'd unwittingly said yes before she realized the favor. She'd always trusted Sam's gut, and he was particularly upset that his newest friend - a Marine recruiter - had fallen for a waitress at Rade's. Sam Howe, for all his tough Marine DI exterior, felt things deeply, and Dora wasn't sure her husband could take yet another murder of a friend.
So she'd agreed. Once she'd even brought along their oldest daughter, Leilani, to check out the waitress, and this cookout was as much for both the Marines and the waitresses to relax as it was for her to see what her husband kept worrying about.
Leilani shot a quick pass to Nina, who dribbled expertly as she sought for an open teammate, Thomas' long arms nearly wrapped around her, blocking her on both sides. A quick snap pass behind her sent the ball back into Lani's hands, and she shot and scored.
The cheers and the groans went up, and Erin ran in while Nina came off the court, taking time to talk to little Jamie Howe. Thomas wasn't far behind, lifting Jamie onto his shoulders as Stultz handed up the basketball to the four-year-old, who dunked it into the basket to applause and cheering. A few minutes later, the kitchen door opened, and Kim chuckled to Nina, "You're pretty competitive out on the court."
The brunette blushed. "Yeah, I guess so. I had three older brothers," she explained, and Dora and Kim laughed. She paused a moment, then asked, "Is there anything I can help you with, Mrs. Howe?"
Dora snorted. "Mrs. Howe's my mother-in-law. I'm just Theo, or Dora. And actually, if you could just cut those ham rolls, I'd be grateful."
She took that time to watch as the young waitress grabbed a large knife and a cutting board and began to slice the rolls. Kerrie, Jamie's twin, leaned over to watch and Theo couldn't help smiling a little as Nina managed to pull Kerrie out of her shell. She could hear her small daughter chattering away within a couple minutes.
Lani came into the kitchen, shaking her head. "What?" her mother asked.
"Jamie and Kerrie won't listen to reason," she muttered. "I keep telling them to come away, but all they want to do is sit wedged between Miss Sutton and Gunny Thomas and bug them."
Theodora quietly headed into the now dark dining room and looked out towards the front porch, where the four were seated. Kerrie was snuggled into Nina's lap, and Jamie was wedged happily between the two adults. Thomas made a few cuts on a small block of wood with his pocketknife and then held up the carving to the fading evening light. Jamie clapped delightedly. "Horse!"
"It's yours." The Marine smiled down at the little boy, who beamed and took the new toy into his hand.
"I want a horse too," Kerrie begged.
"Give me some time, OK?" He smiled at the little girl, who nodded and purposefully put her hands back into her lap as she watched her brother trot his horse across an invisible road. The Marine picked up the other chunk of wood by him, the bark already peeled off, and began making a few cuts. "You like horses?"
Both nodded.
"Did you know Gunny Thomas' ancestors used to sell and buy horses?" Nina's eyes fairly twinkled at her comment. Theodora could see the gunny's smile even in the dim light. "Sales is in his blood."
"'Sales'?" he asked mildly, raising an eyebrow.
"You recruit, don't you?"
The man grunted a little in agreement, then scraped off the last of the bark. He held up the block of wood to the little girl. "Look like a horse yet?" he asked with a straight face. The little girl shook her head. The man smiled as he took back the block and began to cut it.
Kerrie snuggled up against Nina and inhaled deeply. "You smell good, Miz Sutton," she announced out of the blue. Nina just laughed.
Jamie leaned over and sniffed deeply. "Like peaches!" he gave his expert opinion. He poked the Marine. "Wanna smell?"
Inside, Theodora tried not to laugh as Nina blushed furiously. The Marine - the woman wondered if anything could faze him - merely looked surprised but answered, "I'm not sure Miss Sutton wants me sniffing her."
"She won't care," Jamie replied for her. He tugged on his arm. "She smells good!"
Theodora watched in surprise as the Marine tilted his head at Nina. He leaned close to her, their faces just inches apart. He breathed deeply, and the two just watched each other. "You smell beautiful," he murmured softly, intimately into her ear. She blushed, but even in the dim light, Theodora could see the small smile turned towards him.
The moment was instantly broken by Kerrie's indignant, "You can't SMELL beautiful." She made a face. "People only LOOK beautiful."
"Is that so," the Marine replied, his eyes twinkling down at the little four-year-old, both adults relieved at the interjection.
Kerrie nodded, then pointed back at the wood. "Horse, Gunny Thomas!" she protested.
"Didn't I tell you?" came her husband's whisper from behind her, looking out the window with her. "The man's like his brain fell out his head."
"I wouldn't say that," Theodora replied. "Just because Thomas has taken to Nina Sutton. She's pretty, tough, and smart." She shook her head. "It might just be me, seeing what I see. But I don't think that your Gunnery Sergeant Thomas even realizes how deeply he's in over his head." At her husband's look, she replied, "He merely thinks that he's minorly attracted to her. I don't think he even realizes how far gone he is. Yet."
RADE'S BAR AND RESTAURANT
"Well, aren't you a purty little thing."
Erin, still hooking on her bartender's vest, whirled around at the familiar voice. She figured going for Rick was too late, and she could only watch the train wreck that was about to happen.
Here it came. "No kiss, no money," the man smirked, holding out the bills.
"I'm a waitress, sir. Nothing else." Nina's voice was sharp.
Bentley just snorted. "Feisty. Well," he replied, starting to put his money away. "Guess this drink's on the house. Like the three others."
Erin wasn't sure what happened, and it was obvious Karl Bentley didn't either, except there was a sudden crash and the beer mug was smashed on the table and a seething Nina walked away, bills in hand. Bentley seemed almost puzzled, still patting his pockets for his money.
When he realized it was gone, he started up after her, obscenities pouring from his mouth. He was intercepted only by Rick Quincy, who appeared suddenly, having heard the commotion. "Mr. Bentley. Let me call you a cab back to your hotel." His tone allowed for no argument.
Nina gritted her teeth, biting back a retort. Quincy then plucked the money out of her hand, returned to the man, and ushered him out the door. "Hey! What - " she called after them.
"Let it go. Let it go," Erin cut in, watching the door carefully, pushing her towards the back.
Quincy returned, his voice firm and urgent. "Nina, don't worry. That mug and drink money won't come out of your paycheck. You stay in the kitchen the rest of today. Trade with one of the girls for the weekend; Erin, make sure she gets off tomorrow, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. Make sure Lissa doesn't come in, either. Bentley leaves Monday. I'll watch the bar."
Erin nodded, quickly tugging Nina to the back workers' room. "What is going on?" the new waitress finally insisted, shaking herself free and standing her ground. "What is going on?"
Erin shut the door and quickly flipped through the girls' schedules. "Remember I told you about Kennedy pimping a lot of us out? How we lost a lot our staff about six months or so ago?" Nina nodded. "Bentley was the worst customer. He's pretty rich - rich enough, anyhow, to hire Kennedy and himself lawyers to get them off that prostitution charge. Our girls and most of those soliciting jerks got in trouble, but they didn't."
She sighed. "Quincy has strict orders with us to let him serve Bentley, to keep us - 'specially Lissa and now you - away from him. Bentley just hadn't come back on so long, we forgot to tell you, and no one was here to stop you from serving him. I'm sorry."
Nina was unconcerned with that part. "How many of our people did Bentley touch?"
"Several." Erin sighed. "Only Lissa's still here. Two of those who died - one he paid for a night. The other he tried. Her Marine went UA that weekend to get her out of town. Fat lot of good that did. MPs found 'em dead in their car the next morning."
THAT EVENING
"What's wrong with you?"
Scott looked up at Gus's question, directed at Greg Worth, who was frowning. Worth shook his head at Gus. "That new waitress you took a shine to when you started here?"
Gus chortled. "Nina? She turns down everybody."
"Well, she just said yes to somebody else."
At that, the entire table turned to stare as Sutton slid into a dark corner booth seat across from the Marine recruiter, Alvin Thomas, her hands pulling a cup of coffee over before her and warming themselves on it. It wasn't easy to see them, and anybody just coming in for some fun would never see them.
Nina had oddly been absent that entire night. This was the first prolonged appearance she'd made in the main room, if one could call it that - anybody not paying attention wouldn't see them in the corner. It wasn't just her; something had happened that morning that had set the staff on edge. It had been forced smiles all night.
The smile he was looking at now wasn't.
For the first time all night her exhaustion showed on her face, and her smile was tired but genuine. After a moment, Thomas pushed his coffee cup over towards her side, and Scott watched as the Marine slid out of his seat and moved into the booth seat next to her, sliding up close. "Maybe he's just being friendly," he said somberly, grasping at a last straw.
"Oh, c'mon," Greg exclaimed. "And maybe we'll read their obits in the paper."
The entire table fell silent, and Scott rolled his eyes and gave a mental groan. What a completely senseless, tactless idiot.
Still, there were shocked looks all around when a disgusted Gus delivered a huge, head-ringing slap to the back of Greg's skull that made Greg's head bounce. "H-ll, man," he spat angrily, to the shock of the others. "Just because those Marines don't know their place doesn't mean any of us ought to wish 'em dead."
"I...I didn't mean it like that," Greg mumbled, as shocked as the others at the head blow. "I'm just saying...with all those Marines and their girlfriends dying and stuff.... I didn't mean to say - "
"Mean what you say," Gus snapped.
Scott looked at him, a little puzzled. It was like Gus was talking about friends or something. "Well?" Scott asked mildly, trying to ease the tension. "Are you going to do anything about?"
"First of all, Nina's not mine and she'd whack me with that tray if I ever said that. Second, if pretty little Nina isn't smart enough to want this" Gus gestured at himself with a big grin, his anger quickly dissipating "she can't be that smart."
The table erupted, the laughter dispelling the tension.
"And lastly, he's a Marine. He could twist off my neck with his bare hands - sixty-six pounds of torque and my eyes are on the back of my head." Gus Logan shuddered. "Ugh. No thanks. I like my head where it is, and so do all the ladies. Right, hon?" he grinned at their waitress.
Kim patted him consolingly on the shoulder, laughing. "You keep thinking that, sweetie."
The door to the kitchen burst open, and Kennedy yelled into the room, "Sutton!" The cook began to push the waitress out the back when the owner screamed again, "I know they hid you back here!"
A few minutes later, the cook came running out, headed for the bar. A few whispers sent Erin running out the front door, stripping off her apron as she went and yelling at Em to call Quincy.
Isaac Mathis tore out of the room, everyone else hot on his heels. They got outside to see Nina Sutton angrily yelling. A butch man grabbed her roughly, leering, and started to pull her along; she slipped out of his grasp, her sleeve ripping in his hand, and twisted his arm behind his back, forcing the now-howling man to his knees. Erin grinned a second, stopping. Some of the men started applauding, and Gus Logan let out a loud whistle of approval.
Then Kennedy sucker-punched her in the back as she was turned, catching her off-guard and sending her reeling to the ground.
Kim was the first to recover, sprinting towards Nina, and didn't notice the long legs passing her. She arrived at her friend's side, starting to pull her to her feet. Before she could look up, she saw Kennedy hit the ground, still screaming obscenities. Thomas, a head shorter than the bar owner, stood over him. The Marine's cheek was bleeding from a cut, and his lip was busted; there was a look of murder on his face.
Kennedy screamed for Mathis to do something, but the MP refused to budge.
Thomas silently stepped away, a deathly glare quickly shutting up Bentley, who was screaming that he'd paid Kennedy for Nina that night and that he planned to "teach that witch" a lesson for that morning. Thomas' hand was at Nina's elbow, firm as he guided her away. Two minutes later, a car squealed out of the parking lot.
The customers sat staring for a long moment. "D-mn," Logan muttered. "That was one huge claiming stake Thomas just put up."
NCIS HQ
"Heya, Tim!" Tony's voice boomed over the bar noise. "My brother," they could hear him saying to someone by him. "I'm going outside to take this."
The four agents sat crowded around the speakerphone, listening to the slowly ebbing noise. Then came Tony's sharp, worried whisper: "Did Gibbs or Kate call?"
"No, not yet," McGee exclaimed. "What the h-ll happened down there?! Mathis calls us, yelling that he's got another Marine gone UA with his waitress girlfriend and I don't know what. Their cell phones are off right now, but we're hoping to pick up the trail when we find them."
Tony sighed. "I don't know. All I got out of the waitresses was that some guy went to Kennedy, tried to get him to pimp Kate out to him for tonight. They got into it in the parking lot, and that jerk of a boss sucker-punched her in the back. Have you heard from them?"
"All Mathis said was that Gibbs yanked the base doctor out of bed to look at Kate's back. The base doctor thinks they're headed out of town, but they wouldn't say. Did anything happen to Gibbs?"
"He's busted up a little himself. He decked the guy, but nothing bad." Tony stopped as there was noise on the other end. "Hey, McGee?" he asked quietly. "When they call, let me know, all right?"
McGee nodded. "You'll be the first."
ROADSIDE MOTEL
Gibbs sat silently in the motel room, his loaded gun nearby. The light was on outside, the windows drawn. A chair was hooked under the doorknob. Two small bags sat off to the side; one Kate's, one his.
His cheek stung, and his lip was beginning to hurt. He carefully applied the crushed ice makeshift icepack Kate had made for him.
For some reason, he was angrier than he thought he could be over this. The prostitution angle wasn't unexpected, but he'd assumed it was in the past, given what everyone had said.
Two on one wasn't fair, and that sucker-punch was low, but neither had really done it. He had to admit he was already seething when Kate finally told him what happened that morning, explaining why she wasn't waitressing that night and was helping in the kitchen. Then, it hadn't taken him but a second to figure out what was happening in that parking lot. He was out for Kennedy's blood before the man had thrown that sucker-punch.
Kate turned on the bed restlessly. Her back was beginning to bruise badly. The on-base doctor had done what he could, but he said it was going to hurt. Her normally peaceful sleeping face was drawn and taut, but she didn't make noise.
He picked up his cell phone. After turning on their phones to discover a million worried voice mail messages, he and Kate had promised to call every hour through that night until they reached Washington, hopefully by noon the next day. It would be good to get home, even for a little bit, after four months undercover. They could both use the rest.
NCIS HQ
"Look, we've tread and retread this ground a million times. We're not getting anywhere," Balboa replied in exasperation, cutting into the argument the agents were having. "A logger isn't a likely killer because he kills the woman and we've got women dying who weren't dating them. Kennedy can't be bothered to waste money or time on any of his girls, including to kill them. A Marine or a waitress killer just doesn't make sense. Plus we've got tons of evidence that doesn't seem to point to anybody."
"So we're back to square one," McGee moaned.
The argument continued, and then Gibbs looked over at his right. "You feeling OK?"
Kate nodded, but continued to tap her pencil on her notepad and draw little circles on it as the discussion continued. Finally, she said softly, "The killer's not trying to inflict pain on the Marines."
The argument went on, the others not having heard her, until Gibbs frowned. "The killer shot them, Kate. How is that not pain."
"He put one shot in them, through their hearts," Kate said. "It's not execution, in the back of the head or between the eyes, but it's still instantaneous." The others fell silent, now listening intently. "There is no sign of a struggle," she explained. "Ducky said a few were likely shot while they were asleep, or even lightly drugged so there was no resistance. He's...not trying to hurt them. He's...most likely trying to...he thinks...maybe put them out of their misery."
"None of them were sick," McGee pointed out.
"Look, I'm not saying he's thinking wholly rationally," Kate replied. "In our terms, I mean. But in his mind, he's doing what's best for his victims."
"So, the women and the formaldehyde?" Cassie asked, leaning forward.
"His anger is at the women," Kate replied. "So they are poisoned, and they can die more slowly. Painfully."
"The first woman?" Balboa leans forward. "What's her significance? She was killed differently from the others."
"Maybe she was the one involved with the killer," Kate suggested.
"He...cared about her too much to poison her," Cassie replied, catching on.
"Yeah, but what if," McGee supplied. "Let's say his anger is at the women. The Marines are just in the way. He kills them because they happen to be there, or because they'd be the first to look for their dead girlfriends. You kill them, and you kill the eyewitnesses. Isn't that another possibility?"
"It works, except for two things: if poisoning doesn't cause immediate death, then why kill an eyewitness?" Axelrod pointed out. "He'd be gone before the waitress died. Second, one would expect that the shot wouldn't be so carefully planned; more than one bullet, in a few different positions."
Gibbs pointed at Bentley's picture on the plasma. "Catch us up on Bentley."
"He certainly fits the pattern of hating women," Kate muttered.
"63. Businessman. Divorced four times, each time the wife citing infidelity - caught him with call girls, other women. He was on trial, as Kate said, for prostitution," Yates reported. "Not murder, though."
"Pacci cleared him - his alibi check out for every murder, and since we've never caught the killer, he can't be tied to him. Or her. Or them." Balboa paused.
"We cross checked his financial records with Kennedy's. Basically all we've got evidence of is his paying Kennedy for his waitresses, but that's all. We knew Kennedy was prostituting them out."
"We checked what your waitress friend told us, about Bentley trying to pay for the Marine's girlfriend and the Marine taking her and going UA," McGee began. "We called up the MPs. They found the pair less than twenty-four hours after he took her and ran from Bentley. Mathis had found out about Bentley, so he decided to hold off on the UA charge until he could talk to the Marine himself. When they found him dead, he decided to leave the charge off the guy's record entirely. It was impeccable otherwise, and he didn't want him to have that UA charge tainting it, especially since the guy was dead."
"Isaac Mathis has a heart," Kate laughed softly.
"Bentley's got a couple thousand dollar expenditures that we can't tie to anything," Yates continued. "A lot of them are for call girls, alimonies." There were a couple chuckles which quickly died when Gibbs glared. "We're pretty sure it's not him. We'll check on his ATM withdrawals, but he doesn't fit the profile."
Ducky winced as he carefully lifted the sheet covering Kate's back. The bruise was nearly five inches in diameter, with a roughtly quarter-inch yellow ring about the direct impact point, which was turning an ugly, splotchy purple. "This may hurt a little, Caitlin," he warned as he probed gently around the bruise. "Nothing seems to be broken."
"That's what the base doctor told Gibbs," came Kate's muffled grumble. Ducky just smiled.
"Oh Kate, doesn't it hurt?" Abby exclaimed, her face contorted as she looked at the bruise.
"It's fine, Abby," Kate replied reassuringly, lifting her head from her supine position on the table. "What about the DNA samples we brought back?"
"Oh, right," Abby replied, quickly straightening. "You and Gibbs took about nine swabs with a little blood of of your hands, your back, and a little part of your shirt, and from Gibbs' cheek and lip and knuckles. There were four DNA samples, and we ruled out yours and Gibbs', of course. There was a blood drop on your back that wasn't yours, and a hair on your hands that wasn't yours. The blood drop matches the blood you swabbed off Gibbs' hands."
"Kennedy's, since he punched me in the back and Gibbs punched him."
"Right. The hair which came from your hand I'm guessing is Bentley's."
"Guessing won't help us, Abs."
Abby smiled apologetically. "I'm not sure it would help you even if I had DNA samples to match them to. Of all the murders, only one yielded some DNA - a Sdrop of blood that wasn't either victim's or any of their coworkers' - and it doesn't match either Kennedy's or Bentley's. Sorry, Kate."
APARTMENT COMPLEX
"She's back," Kim announced, jumping from where she was watching from her living room and bounding into the hallway. "Em, Lissa!" she called to the others as she knocked on Nina's door.
The door opened, and the first thing Kim saw was Thomas in the living room - and Nina, fine and well. "Thank God," she breathed. "Where did you two disappear to, anyhow?"
Nina smiled. "Washington. When Vin's assignment here ends - he was hoping I'd go with him to Washington," she said softly. "We looked at apartments for me to live in while we were there as well as some job openings."
"Sounds serious," Em said said quietly.
"Explains this," Lissa spoke for the first time, pointing at the diamond ring, which dangled out on the thin silver chain around Nina's neck.
Nina's eyes flickered up to her three friends' faces, and there was a long silence. The door began to open, and she quickly tucked her necklace back under her shirt as Thomas came out, looking slightly puzzled at their serious faces. He looked at Nina, his hand moving to the small of her back to guide her some distance away.
The three waitresses exchanged looks among themselves, and Lissa straightened and said in a whisper, "I don't know whether to be all excited for Nina or worried sick they'll get killed."
They looked over at the pair, standing several feet away, and saw him reach into his pants pocket and slip something into her hand. He started to reach for her, then turned his head slightly to the side, most likely remembering that her coworkers were there. He stopped, then shoved his hands back into his pockets. The Marine paused for a moment, staring at the brunette intently.
He looked ready to go - reluctantly - before Emily finally said in a normal voice, "We saw the ring, Gunny." He looked up at them in surprise, seeing them watching the pair. "We know." She smiled weakly. "Congratulations," she offered without enthusiasm.
Nina gave a nervous laugh.
He leaned over, his large hands pulling her to him by her upper arms, and pressed his mouth to hers, firm and all barely contained fire. The three waitresses looked away to give them privacy, but even in that split second, they saw Nina melt.
It was clear to all three why Nina and Gunnery Sergeant Thomas continued to see each other, despite all discouragement. For a woman wary of the usual tricks, it was no wonder she had fallen for him. The Marine was always polite, and in those rare times he decided he wanted to be charming, he could outdo Gus Logan. In addition, well, he was awfully considerate of Nina's needs - he wasn't a flowers person, but he was well aware of what she lacked, wanted, and liked.
It was obvious, too, why Thomas was so drawn to her: she touched off in him the very things he generally kept hidden so guardedly. The charm and gentle consideration they saw so rarely was nearly always turned on her, and she had managed to torch that simmering intensity he kept so tightly reined. She was his equal in many ways, and his careful counterpart in others. Thomas most likely didn't even realize how deep in over his head he was until it was too late.
All this ran through Em's mind in just seconds; just as quickly as the Marine had kissed the brunette, he was pulling away, just stopping briefly to whisper a good-bye in her ear before turning and disappearing out the door.
Oddly, Nina Sutton looked far more surprised than any of the women expected.
NEXT EVENING
RADE'S BAR AND RESTAURANT
As the other waitress exited from the waitresses' backroom, he slid in quietly. He'd seen the new chain around Nina Sutton's neck and had noticed when one of the waitresses had quietly told her to slip it off.
As he entered, he saw the small locker assigned to her, and he slipped his hand into her jacket pocket and pulled out the chain - with an engagement ring on it.
He never figured Thomas would be the type who would lose his head over a beautiful woman. Apparently he was wrong, and it was a shame - Thomas was a huge asset to the Corps.
He sighed. He liked Nina, albeit platonically. While he couldn't fault the others for having become inured to their working environment, Nina was still untouched. Plus, he'd never move in on another Marine's girl. But he couldn't let her do to Thomas what Jessie had done to him, or what those other girls had been planning to do to those other Marines.
"Hey gunny," Stultz greeted as Howe dropped into his chair. "Head call?" He pushed over the Daniels toward the older Marine.
"Thanks."
Stultz sighed and then turned slightly before lowering his voice. "Gunny, did you hear the rumor about Sutton? Some of the Marines said she's wearing Thomas' ring on a necklace."
Howe sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, it's true."
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.