Chapter 1: Trying to Understand
The case itself isn't the main plot to this fic so it may seem a bit rushed. It'll get better once I get around to the more Tiva parts, trust me! Please R&R!
Click. Flash. Tony and Ziva were taking pictures of the destroyed contents of a small house. A neighbour had come by to drop off some mail that had been sent to her by mistake. When she looked into the side window and noticed the lifeless body lying on the floor, she called 911. They called NCIS when they identified the victim as a petty officer. A bookcase was tipped over and it's contents spilled across the wood floor. Couch cushions and small quilts were strewn all over and cupboards lay opened and obviously looked through.
Ziva had made her way from the living room to the kitchen and was taking a picture of a tiny red droplet on the counter when a photo on the fridge caught her eye.
"Gibbs!" She called, lifting the magnet and pulling the picture off. She held in up to Gibbs went he walked in. "She had a family." Gibbs took the photo and examined it quickly. The date stamp said it had been taken only a few days before. In the picture, a young girl, about six, with dark brown hair and eyes to match was smiling as her father, in jeans and a leather jacket, lifted her into the air.
"Get a BOLO out on these two, now. They might know something." Gibbs handed the wallet-sized photo back to Ziva and walked out to the living room.
"Yes, sir." Ziva turned the photo in her hand and stared down at the small girl before smiling. She stuck it back under the magnet and called for a BOLO like Gibbs had ordered.
Several interviews on doorsteps over the course of two hours and the team still had nothing. When McGee called Gibbs, Tony and Ziva followed him to the SUV's. They found the husband.
"Why'd you run?" Robert Kilman, Claire's husband, no older then thirty-five, started bobbing his leg anxiously.
"I didn't." Blunt, but still nervous about something. "Look, you gotta let me go. I didn't do this I swear!" A thin layer of sweat was started to form on Robert's forehead.
"You look a bit worried there, Kilman." Gibbs was calm, as usual. "Need to be somewhere?" Pause. "Where's your daughter?" Kilman's head shot up at this. Got him.
"Ha—have you seen her?"
"His worry looks real." Tony assessed from behind the thick pane of glass. "Do you think he knows where his kid is?" Ziva took a sip of her coffee then shook his head.
"I think he's telling the truth. Maybe whoever killed his wife took his daughter as well?" She looked up at Tony, a bit unsure.
"Most likely," Just then, Robert broke.
"Come on! I have to find my daughter! They took her!" Ziva held up her hand and Tony high-fived it quickly.
"Who?" Still, Gibbs was calm.
"I have now idea. Claire was talking about these street kids bothering her awhile back. You gotta let me find Charlotte …" Kilman's eyes started to tear up and Gibbs stood. He moved his hand in a way that told Kilman he was allowed to leave. He stood and left quickly.
Ziva and Tony came out from the other door and stared at Gibbs bewildered, not knowing why he had let him leave.
"Gibbs, if he knows something…" Tony started but was cut short.
"If he knows something, he'll lead us straight to it." Gibbs walked past the two agents nonchalantly and continued down the hallway to the bullpen.
"Great. Stake-out…" Tony said glumly.
Ziva and Tony had been following Robert for close to five hours with nothing to go on. He had stopped by the house, then a park. A couple restaurants and then home again. Nothing.
In the mean time, Gibbs and McGee had brought in Claire's father. A small blue tissue box made its way from one end of the long table to the other, past from McGee, to Gibbs and then Mr. Jennings, within seconds. The older man dabbed at the inside of his left eye. He took in a deep breath, trying to compose himself.
Mr. Jennings had just been informed that his daughter had been murdered. Claire was a petty officer, killed in her home and nothing was working out in the NCIS team's favour. Mr. Jennings was in his late fifties, his hair was greying and his teeth yellowed. He had lived a hard life, stuck without much money and even less brain. When Claire said she had been able to join the armed forces, Mr. Jennings was so happy. His daughter had the smarts that would get her a better life then he had.
"She was so happy when she told me." Mr. Jennings smiled; a stray tear escaped his right eye. "Said it was the best decision she ever made, to join."
Gibbs tried a different route, "Did Claire have any enemies that you may know of?" He laced his fingers together and looked at the grieving man.
There was a quiet second and then Mr. Jennings shook his head and said "No. Not that I know of." Another swipe of a tissue obscured the man's eyes. "But ya know, then again, I don't know my daughter that well." Swipe. "…didn't…" Mr. Jennings corrected himself. There wasn't much to go on and the team needed as much info as they could gather. Mr. Jennings wasn't of much help.
"Okay, thank you Mr. Jennings. We'll notify you when we get some more information." Gibbs said as he stood. The older man followed McGee out the door, Gibbs in tow.
They were close to the twelve-hour mark and the chances of finding not only the killer, but the kidnapper as well were growing slim.
"If you didn't get anything from Kilman, bring him back in. He might have more to say when not looked at as a murderer and kidnapper." Gibbs said as he sat at his desk.
Ziva and Tony started a quick glance before standing up and grabbing their bags.
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