As Tim slowly came back to consciousness, he was aware that the ground was moving beneath him. It couldn't be the ground, though. For one thing, he could feel that there was some kind of carpeted fabric beneath him and last he remembered the ground didn't usually come with carpet. It also didn't move so that he felt like a package being transported. Wherever he was, it was hot and humid. The heat hung around his nose, nearly suffocating him. He could feel a trickle of sweat sliding across his skin…but it wasn't just sweat; there was something sticky mixed in with the sweat.
Tim tried to brush his hand across his forehead, but he couldn't move it from behind his back. He came to the realization that his wrists had been tied together. The bindings cut into his skin and he had to wiggle his fingers to keep the blood flowing. They were beginning to tingle, like miniature pins sticking into his skin.
He tentatively opened his eyes and found that he was shrouded in darkness. The only light came through a small slit, though it didn't give him enough light to tell where he was. It was time to think logically about this.
He was bound and gagged, so he had obviously been taken hostage by someone. Based on the movement he felt beneath his body along with how cramped his large frame felt from his inability to stretch his body out, Tim surmised that he was in the trunk of a car. But why?
He thought back to arriving at Boone's dumping ground. He and Tony had gone down there, with Tony making some crack about Tim's last encounter with poison ivy. The two had expected to find the skeletal remains of Boone's victims. What they hadn't expected was the week old body of a young woman who had been slain in the same manner that Boone's victims had years earlier. Tim shuddered as he thought about the maggot-infested corpse. Her naked body was stained with blood and dirt, the former likely from the heart that had been etched into her back and the pool of blood that had spewed from her mouth when her tongue had been cut out. There was no doubt that she had suffered before her death.
Their phones had no reception in the area, so Tim had been sent back to the van to call Gibbs. He'd managed to get there well-enough and he remembered that he'd gotten in touch with Gibbs, letting the boss know that a copy cat killer was on the loose. After that, he'd started back toward the dumping ground. Tim had paused, wanting to ready himself for the sight of the tortured woman. It had been then that he'd heard a twig snap. Gun in hand, Tim swung around and had been met with a blow to his head. He hadn't seen the assailant before blacking out.
The car hit a bump and Tim's body bounced in the trunk, causing his head to smack against the top. As he slammed back on to the floor of the trunk, a soft groan resonated in the back of his throat. He head was already throbbing from his kidnapper's blow and things only were getting worse.
Tony sat at his desk, head in his hands. His fingers gripped at tufts of hair and it was only sheer willpower that kept him from yanking his hair out in frustration. If he'd gone up there instead of Tim...if he'd gone to investigate when Tim hadn't come back within a few minutes…if only…if only Gibbs had never been forced to cooperate with this entire stupid thing.
"DiNozzo!" Gibbs entered the squad room, his eyes brimming with rage. Tony knew that Gibbs' ire wasn't directed at him, but Tony still flinched under them.
"It's my fault, boss," he mumbled. "I should have gone to call you."
"And then what Tony? You be the one in the trunk of a car."
"Better me than him."
Tony barely flinched as Gibbs' hand smacked against his head. "If you really want to find McGee then stop fretting over what you could have done then and focus on what you can do now."
"Gibbs!" Abby ran off the elevator waving the memory card from Tony's camera. "There's something hinky going on with all of this."
"You mean other than McGee being kidnapped?"
Abby winced at the reminder that Tim was being held hostage. "Yes, Tony, I mean other than that," she whispered as she inserted the memory card and brought the pictures up on the plasma. "This latest victim is the last one of the Jane Does in Boone's scrapbook," she explained as she brought up the picture of the body Tony and Tim had found and a picture of the same girl that had been in Boone's scrapbook.
"That's impossible, Abbs. That scrapbook has been in the chimney of Boone's old house since he went to prison." Tony knew his argument was feeble. The proof was right up there on the plasma.
"Possible or not, Tony, it's true."
"This isn't just a copy cat killer," Gibbs snarled. "That bastard's been training someone to take his place!"
Tony groaned. "Boss, I should have recognized her when we were there."
"You are not responsible for remembering every Jane Doe we come across, Tony, particularly when she's in what we thought was a ten-year-old scrapbook," Gibbs lectured. "Now run through the visitors list for Boone since he's been in jail. See who has been visiting him frequently."
"On it, boss."
Gibbs turned to leave, but Abby stood before him, her mouth set in determination. "What can I do?"
"Abby, all you can do right now is work on identifying those other Jane Does."
"No," she replied, shaking her head furiously. "I need to do something to help Timmy."
Gibbs saw that she was on the verge of tears. He pulled her into an embrace, his hand on the back of her head. "Don't worry, Abbs. We're going to find him." Even if I have to break every bone in Boone's body.
