Kettering tilted his head to the side as he looked Leticia up and down, openly appraising her. No underwear, always a good sign in his book. He'd have pegged the classy broad as someone Ortiz might be laying some pipe with, but her introduction didn't match at all. The detective scratched his chin and pulled out a notepad. "Well, I'm glad to hear that Ms. Leticia Beckett." He scribbled her name down in his notepad, then looked back up at her.<br/><br/>"So, if I had to guess, you're the daughter of /the/ Beckett, and not some random Beckett who's into baseball cards or something like that. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been able to bully your way up here to see me. So, what help does the Beckett clan have for me, cause frankly, I'll take whatever I can get at this point." He was being a bit more deferential to Leticia Beckett, because... well, her father could have his badge if the man put his mind to it. Plus, there was nothing about Leticia that riled the beast of put his senses on edge. Sure, she was gorgeous and the beast was always up for a quick romp, but that's no sort of warning that she might be something other than what she seemed.