Remembering that Shannon and Kelly had first encountered Tony on the beach, Gibbs focussed his search there. He spent the day walking up and down asking people if they'd seen a skinny teenager wearing jeans, sneakers and a tee-shirt but there was nothing to make Tony stand out in such a description and he got blank looks and polite – or not so polite – negatives.
At lunch time, Gibbs stopped for a coffee at a beachside café and considered that Tony might have made his way home after all but thought this was unlikely considering that he'd driven the lad out without his precious duffel. The only comfort Gibbs could find was that this was California in the summer so Tony would not be suffering from the cold if he had been forced to sleep outside. He averted his mind from the other perils that might be encountered from sleeping rough.
The coffee turned to acid in his mouth as he thought that Tony might not have had any money with him to buy food and might now be hungry as well as homeless. With a sudden gesture of disgust, Gibbs tipped the dregs of his drink on to the sand and resumed his search.
The afternoon proved as fruitless as the morning and finally Gibbs was driven to return home. The search for Tony had, for a while, pushed his grief to the back of his mind, but entering his silent house brought it all flooding back, somehow made worse by the thought that he'd betrayed Shannon and Kelly by his forgetfulness. After a few minutes of being overwhelmed once more by his memories, he noticed that the telephone was indicating that a message had been left for him. Clinging to the hope that Tony might have called – preferably saying that he was on his way home – he accessed the message,
"Special Agent Mike Franks here. I work for NIS out of Camp Pendleton. Need to talk to you about the … accident … Call me. Number is …"
Gibbs blinked at the phone. He had become accustomed in recent days to people pussyfooting around him and talking in gentle commiserating tones, so it was a surprise to have such an astringent voice speak to him.
Gibbs called the number and asked for Mike Franks and was soon put through.
"Ah, Gunny. Thanks for calling back. Could you come to the office tomorrow? Round 1000?"
Gibbs, "Yes. Why do you need to talk to me, Agent Franks?"
"Don't want to go into it over the phone. I'll tell you tomorrow."
With that, the call was ended, and Gibbs found himself holding the phone in something like shock. When he finally returned the receiver to the cradle, Gibbs caught sight of Tony's duffel on the couch and he remembered his other problem. He opened the bag and looked through in case there was some clue to Tony's whereabouts but all he found was clothing suitable for Summer Camp, toiletries and a photograph of a much younger Tony with an attractive blonde woman in front of a movie theatre. Gibbs noted that there was no money in the duffel, so he hoped that Tony had taken some with him.
Gibbs was a practical person so forced himself to have something to eat and then went out to search once more for Tony. He had taken note earlier in the day of possible places Tony might find to sleep in and he went to investigate those again but without success.
Gibbs spent a restless night. He thought about going to bed in the room he had once shared with Shannon but found the prospect too painful and he settled for the couch instead. Perhaps part of him didn't think he deserved a comfortable bed when Tony was somewhere sleeping under the stars because of him.
XXXXXX
Gibbs was a decisive person but the next morning found him in a quandary. He couldn't decide whether he should continue his search for Tony or keep his appointment with Mike Franks. In the end, he decided to go to Camp Pendleton and see what the NIS agent wanted: it might be also that Franks could make some suggestions about finding the missing boy or whether he should report him to the local police.
Part of Gibbs was comforted by returning to the familiarity of Camp Pendleton: he could see other Marines training and going about their business and that was reassuring. Another part, however, was outraged that the world was going on as usual despite his own world having been torn apart. The additional problem was that many of the Marines knew what had happened and he had to run a gauntlet of good wishes and commiserations which tested his composure to the limits.
Finally, however, he reached Mike Franks' office where he was greeted with a firm handshake,
"Gunny, just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry for your loss."
Gibbs nodded helplessly.
"And to let you know that I'll make sure we find out who did this to your wife and little girl."
Gibbs nodded again.
"I don't know what the hell you're going through, Gunny and I won't pretend I do but I figure if it was me the only comfort, I'd get would be from knowing that the bastard who did this paid … and I mean paid"
Gibbs nodded again, warming to this brisk man who seemed to know he didn't need soft words but … well, Gibbs hadn't been thinking in terms of revenge – until now.
"Thank you, Agent Franks. And how near are you to finding out who did this?"
"Your wife was the only witness to the murder of a Marine. We're getting close to knowing who the murderer was … got a few possibles. We needed your wife to make the final ID. In fact, she was on her way in when … well, you know."
"What happens now … without her … testimony. Without her confirming?"
"We're working on it. That's what I wanted you to know. Did she say anything to you about what she saw?"
Gibbs shook his head, "Nope. I was out of the camp on a mission. And we didn't get any phone calls. All I had was letters that Shannon wrote saying that she'd seen something awful and was being looked after by NIS."
"Can I see the letters? They might help."
Gibbs was briefly appalled at someone seeing the tender letters Shannon had sent him but then decided that the sacrifice of privacy would be a price worth paying if it put her killer behind bars. He nodded, "I'll bring them in tomorrow."
"Good. I'll see you tomorrow then," Franks took another pull on his cigarette and pulled a folder towards him in obvious dismissal.
Gibbs walked out, feeling an odd bond with this no-nonsense agent. It wasn't until he was driving off Camp when he realised that he'd forgotten to mention Tony, but he decided he'd search again for the rest of the day and, if necessary, tell Franks tomorrow.
Gibbs walked the beach all afternoon but still found no trace of Tony and was eventually forced to return home from mental and physical exhaustion. As he walked up the path to his front door, he noticed a shadow move to the side of the house and ran around to investigate,
"Tony!" he called.
The teenager paled and then flushed when he realised he'd been caught, "I wasn't doing anything!" he protested.
"I just want to talk," said Gibbs raising his hands in a pacific gesture.
"I wasn't going to steal anything," said Tony apparently not trusting the gesture.
"I know," said Gibbs.
"You do?"
"Yes."
"Why do you know? I mean, how do you know now? You didn't trust me the other night."
"I know. I had a letter from my wife … from Shannon."
"What? But she's dead! I mean, you know that but how could she write you a letter?"
"She wrote it before she died. She sent it to Kuwait, and it got sent back to me. I got it the morning after you left."
"Is that what you call it?" asked Tony bitterly, "'Cos that sounds kinda as if it was my choice."
"I know," agreed Gibbs.
"Is that an apology?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"You were in my house. Taking something. I think I was right to be suspicious."
"Guess so," conceded Tony. "Still, you could apologise."
"You could apologise for sneaking in," suggested Gibbs. "Most people would have knocked on the door and asked."
"Huh. Suppose so. Grown-ups always have to have the last word, don't they?"
Gibbs shrugged: he could remember feeling much the same as a lad in Stillwater.
"Guess we're quits then," said Tony, "We both won't say sorry."
Gibbs nodded.
"'Cos secretly, we both think we're in the right," continued Tony.
"Thought it was grown-ups who had to have the last word," said Gibbs mildly.
Tony grinned for the first time since Gibbs had seen him. The smile transformed an otherwise unremarkable face: for a moment the transformation warmed Gibbs and then he remembered other dear faces which he would never see transformed again and he scowled.
Tony's smile faltered,
"I just came to get my gear," he offered tentatively as if fearing he would be run off again.
Gibbs sighed and pulled himself together, "Sure. Come on inside."
Tony followed slightly hesitantly as if he still remembered the enraged Gibbs of a couple of days before, but the lure of his duffel was too strong, and he went into the house.
"Where you been?" asked Gibbs.
"Around," said Tony vaguely.
"That it?"
Tony shrugged, "Here and there," he elaborated.
"I was looking for you."
"What? I mean, excuse me?"
"You heard. I read Shannon's letter and she said that you were a good lad …" Gibbs paused as he saw that Tony had blushed at the compliment and had tears in his eyes at his own memories.
"She was good to me," said Tony, "She didn't have to be, but she was. All the other people walked past as if I was invisible, but she saw me sleeping in the sand … and she stopped and …" He broke off with a sniffle and swiped at his nose with his hand.
"Here," said Gibbs whose military neatness was offended by this, he handed Tony a cotton square.
"Thanks," said Tony demonstrating he knew what a handkerchief was for by blowing into it loudly and thoroughly. Finally, Tony looked up sheepishly and looked at the piece of cotton, "If this was a movie," he said, "I'd offer to get it laundered but I don't think that'll work!"
"Keep it," ordered Gibbs, "You like movies then?"
"Sort of," said Tony reverting to teenage nonchalance.
Gibbs was amazed to find that a grin was twitching at his mouth. "You hungry?" he asked to prevent himself delving deeper into the thought that Tony was amusing him.
Tony attempted another indifferent shrug but was betrayed by a loud rumble from his stomach, "I guess," he managed.
"Sit down," ordered Gibbs, "I'll see what we've got."
A few minutes later, Gibbs and Tony were sitting at the kitchen table working their way through a pile of sandwiches. When they had finished, Tony went to the refrigerator and got out two apples,
"Shannon, I mean, Mrs Gibbs …"
"It's all right, you can call her Shannon," said Gibbs mildly.
"Shannon always said we should have a piece of fruit with every meal," said Tony earnestly and he handed Gibbs an apple.
Gibbs found himself lost in memories of Shannon trying to make him eat fruit, but he managed to take the apple and bite into it. Tony grinned at him happily.
"So," said Gibbs when he had demolished the apple, "What happens next?"
"Excuse me?"
"In the letter, Shannon said she was trying to find your Dad? Did she do it?"
"No," said Tony. "I had the number of his office in New York but …"
"What?"
"The phone was cut off. I expect he isn't using the place any more. He doesn't really need an office."
"What does he do?"
"Oh, you know – stuff. Deals, things like that. He travels a lot. You know."
Gibbs didn't know but decided not to pursue this. "Where does he live … where do you live?"
"There's a house in New York," said Tony.
Gibbs blinked at this description of home, "That where your Mom is?"
Tony's face went blank, "My Mom's dead. She died when I was 8. And I haven't got a step-mom at the moment. Or at least, I don't think so."
Gibbs managed to keep a blank expression of his own, "You're not sure?"
"Senior …"
"Senior? Who's Senior?"
"My Dad. He's Anthony DiNozzo Senior. He calls me Junior … so I call him Senior."
"Oh, OK. So why aren't you sure about step-moms."
"Well, you know – he's been married a couple times since Mom. They haven't lasted. I think the latest divorce has gone through so he might have got married again. He might be on his honeymoon."
Gibbs suspected that his jaw had just dropped open in surprise, but he managed to say, "And you really don't know where he is?"
Tony shook his head, "Nope. When the Camp had to close, they tried to contact him but well, they had the office number too."
"What about the house in New York? Is there anyone there?"
Tony shifted uneasily, "I think he rented it out for the summer. Or he might have sold it."
"How long were you going to be at Camp for?"
"All summer."
"All summer?" Gibbs had hated being apart from Kelly and couldn't imagine voluntarily being away from her for such a long time.
"Sure," said Tony who seemed unfazed by this.
"And when was he going to pick you up from Camp. Did he tell when he dropped you off?"
Tony laughed, "He didn't drop me off! He sent me a plane ticket and I went there on my own."
Gibbs swallowed, "But he was going to pick you up?"
"Don't know. He hadn't told me."
"Wasn't he at home when you left for Camp?" asked Gibbs, still trying to work things out.
"Don't know. I was at school." Tony saw Gibbs' puzzlement, "I was at boarding school," he explained. "Senior sent the ticket there. I didn't need to go home at all."
Gibbs had a brainwave, "Have you called the school? Asked them if they've got a contact number for your Dad?"
Tony looked embarrassed, "The school won't know. I was expelled at the end of term. Well, not so much expelled as told I couldn't go back. I don't think it really counts as being expelled 'cos they let me stay to the end of term. They wouldn't have done that if they'd really expelled me, would they?"
Not for the first time in a conversation with Tony, Gibbs found himself at a loss, "No, I guess not," he said a little weakly. Then he had another brainwave, "Well, what about your new school. They must have a number."
"Um, well, I don't know where I'm going in the Fall," he admitted, "I was waiting for Senior to tell me."
"But you've written to him, haven't you? You know, while you've been at Camp? And he must have written to you."
"DiNozzos aren't much for keeping in touch," said Tony emotionlessly, "We stand on our own two feet. We don't need other people."
"Well …" began Gibbs.
"Although Shannon said that wasn't true," said Tony reflectively, "She said that everyone needs someone. And she said that, for the summer at least, she'd be my someone … and Kelly too."
Gibbs took a swallow of his coffee to hide his emotions. Tony's words had somehow summed up the Shannon he had adored … and sometimes been infuriated by. "So, what are your plans?" he asked.
Tony sat up straighter as if he realised his brief respite was over, "I'll grab my stuff and be out of your hair," he announced in a business-like manner wholly unsuited to his years.
"Got somewhere to go?" asked Gibbs.
"I'll find somewhere," said Tony confidently.
"Don't seem to have done too good a job so far," said Gibbs a little brutally, "You could do with a shower."
"I went for a swim yesterday," protested Tony who seemed to have all the teenaged boy's reluctance to make acquaintance with a bathroom.
Gibbs found himself on the brink of smiling once more, "Tell you what. You go have a shower. Give me those dirty clothes and I'll put them in the washer. Sleep here tonight and we'll work something out tomorrow."
Tony looked mutinous for a moment. Gibbs thought of a clinching argument,
"It's what Shannon would have wanted."
"But what about you?" asked Tony, "Don't you want to be alone? I saw you walk off from the funeral yesterday. Didn't look as if you wanted company."
Gibbs was impressed that Tony, in desperate need, was yet ready to sacrifice those needs to Gibbs' feelings.
"You know," he said, "I reckon you'd be doing me a favour if you stayed. House is kinda empty." He smiled bravely and then realised he meant every word.
"Well," said Tony trying to hide the fact that he longed to stay, "Just till I get something sorted out."
