Chapter Two
Gibbs sent Tim to put Rachel Morrison in the interrogation room to let her stew for awhile. Jenny hurried off to the store to purchase some clothing for Kellie and Gibbs ordered a couple pizzas for dinner before taking the eight year old down to autopsy to see Ducky. The medical examiner had all the bodies tucked away for evening and was waiting for his young patient to arrive.
Gibbs lifted Kellie up onto one of the cold autopsy tables, not missing the fact that her body stiffened at his touch. "Dr. Mallard is going to have a quick look at you," he explained as he removed the wool blanket she was wrapped in. "We just want to make sure you're okay."
Ducky smiled at the girl as he rolled over in front of her on his stool. He knew if he sat a little lower than her it would come off less threatening than if he stood over her while he did his exam. "These bruises surrounding her upper arms indicate she's either been held down or yanked around, or both," Ducky explained to Gibbs.
The doctor went about assessing Kellie's vital signs and examining her body for any obvious injuries. The process was complicated by Kellie pushing his hands away anytime he got too close. Every bone in Gibbs' body was screaming at him to stop the exam and not cause the girl anymore stress but he knew Ducky was being as gentle as possible and after finding her in the conditions they did, he knew she needed to be examined. When he was finished, Ducky drew blood then provided the girl with a warm, damp washcloth so she could get herself cleaned up a little bit while he spoke quietly with Gibbs.
"She didn't even flinch when you drew blood," Gibbs observed. "Has her mother been injecting her with drugs?"
"Unlikely," Ducky answered. "She would have track marks if that were the case. I didn't find any needle punctures. With the exception of the bruises on her arms, I couldn't find anything wrong with her but I did not do an in-depth exam. She's in such a fragile state that I'm afraid if we push her too much she'll close herself off completely."
"But from what you could tell…"
"From what I could tell she seems to be okay physically but there's no telling where she's at emotionally," Ducky concluded. "That will take time, Jethro."
Gibbs nodded at the doctor then waited patiently for Kellie to finish getting herself cleaned up. When she was done, he helped her wash her face. "That should do until you get a bath," he said with a smile. "Now, how about some food?"
Kellie took a deep, calming breath. The visit to the doctor hadn't been as bad as she thought it would be. She followed Gibbs back to the squad room and saw Tim paying the pizza delivery guy. There weren't very many people around that night. With the exception of the area where the small group was working, the room was pretty dark. Outside the window, the full moon lit up the dark night sky.
"Just in time," Gibbs said. "The pizza just got here." Kellie turned to see Jenny returning from her shopping trip with a few bags.
"Well, let's get Kellie dressed and then eat," Jenny said dumping the clothing she'd just bought on Gibbs' desk. She removed the tags, then helped the little girl get dressed.
After finally getting cleaned up a little bit and dressing in a pair of blue jeans and a long sleeve white shirt that said 'LOVE' in large pink letters across the chest, Kellie was starting to feel a little bit better. It had been a long time since she'd been out of the cold, dark basement. She'd missed out on a lot in the past three years. Just being able to stand up and walk around was a big change.
Kellie looked around for the agent who seemed to make her feel instantly safe, the one who reminded her of her father. When she saw him sitting at one of the desks, she walked over and sat down behind him, next to the bookcase. It was a little different than her cage but it was still a nice, tight area so she felt safe and secure.
"You don't have to hide back there, Kiddo," Gibbs said.
"Why don't you come on out here and eat some pizza with us," Jenny encouraged.
Kellie looked from Gibbs to Jenny but didn't make any effort to move. Her stomach was twisted in knots and the last thing on her mind was food.
"Do you not like pizza?" Jenny asked. "We can get you something else if you want, anything you want, you just have to tell us."
Gibbs watched as the girl still made no effort to move. He knew she was scared. Although the living conditions in the basement were deplorable, it had been her home. They came in and took her away from the only thing she knew in life and now she was surrounded by strangers. "Can you try to eat something for me, Kellie?" he asked feeling a tinge of heartache at saying the name out loud.
Jenny put a piece of pizza on a paper plate and offered it to Kellie. The girl took the plate and laid it in her lap, unwilling to take a bite with everyone staring at her. When she thought no one was looking, she took a small bite of her pizza. She looked up and saw Gibbs smiling at her. "Good girl," he said quietly as he winked at her.
Gibbs, Jenny and Tim made small talk with Kellie while they ate their dinner, even though she wouldn't respond to any of them. They did their best to put the little girl's fears at ease and make her feel safe but they knew it would take time. Kellie ate her pizza slowly, her stomach rebelling against each bite. The pizza was good and it was the first time she'd had a meal that she didn't have to share with the rats in as long as she could remember but as she continued to eat she started feeling sicker and sicker. She put the last bite of pizza crust in her mouth but as she chewed something didn't feel right.
Gibbs watched as Kellie stopped chewing and the color drained from her face. He'd seen that look before and knew what was coming next. He quickly slid his trash can over to her just in time for her to throw up everything that was in her stomach. "It's okay, Sweetheart," he said as he held her long brown hair back out of the way. He waited for her to finish vomiting then laid her hair on her back and smoothed his hand over it.
Kellie instinctively jerked away from his touch as she wiped her mouth. She accepted the cup of water from Jenny and used it to rinse her mouth out. She knew eating that pizza was a bad idea but boy did it taste good. After everything else that had happened that evening she was starting to get tired.
"Boss," Tim said. When Gibbs looked in his direction, Tim held up a piece of paper with some notes on it.
Gibbs motioned for Tim to meet him over by the window then stood and rubbed his hand over Kellie's hair. "I'll be right back," he told her, "I'm just going right over there." He smiled down at the girl then followed Jenny over to where Tim was standing.
"Ethan Morrison, Kellie's dad, was shot in the head with a handgun registered in his name for personal use," Tim said quietly so Kellie wouldn't overhear him. "He died when Kellie was five. Rebecca said her husband had been having suicidal ideations but she didn't think he'd actually do anything."
"Did something happen that would've made the First Lieutenant suicidal?" Gibbs asked.
"That's just it, Boss," Tim said. "I spoke with his best friend and he told me nothing happened to make Morrison suicidal. His marriage was a little rocky but he adored his daughter. Kellie was daddy's little girl and the Lieutenant couldn't get home fast enough to spend time with her. Also, police found no gunshot residue on Morrison's hand and if Lieutenant Morrison did kill himself, he didn't hold the gun directly to his head. Ballistics test showed the bullet was fired from approximately 18 inches away."
"Why didn't they investigate further?" Gibbs asked, frustrated at the messy investigation.
"Rebecca produced a suicide note that Ethan supposedly wrote," Tim said. "It looks like it was never checked out though."
"Sloppy," Gibbs said. "We're going to find out what really happened to him. Start by getting a handwriting expert to check out that suicide note."
They made their way back over to the bullpen and found Kellie curled up on the floor behind Gibbs' desk sound asleep, using his hoodie as a pillow. A smile crossed Gibbs' face as he covered her up with his coat. He glanced down at his watch and realized it was quickly approaching midnight. Rachel Morrison had been waiting in interrogation for over two hours. He was tempted to leave her in there all night but decided that since Kellie was sleeping peacefully, he had time to question her.
Gibbs made a copy of Ethan Morrison's autopsy report and delivered it to Ducky for his professional opinion then headed to observation to go over Rachel Morrison's long list of drug related charges while he watched the woman through the glass.
"How's she doing?" he asked the agent assigned to keep an eye their suspect.
"One minute she's sitting calmly at the table, the next minute she's pacing the floor, and the next minute after that she's pounding on the door and walls and screaming at the top of her lungs."
"All over the place," Gibbs concluded opening the folder in his hand. He took his time going through her record, watching as her many mood swings played out.
After he'd been there for almost an hour, the door to observation opened and Abby appeared behind him. "Is that her? The woman who keeps little children locked in her basement?" Gibbs looked up at his forensic scientist and nodded. "I found high concentrations of PCP in her system," Abby said, watching as Rachel started to come unglued once again.
"That definitely explains some of her behavior," Gibbs concluded, taking the paper with Abby's findings.
"Your body would have to work up to being able to handle that high of a concentration," Abby explained. "If someone who's never taken PCP before took as much as she did tonight, it would kill them."
"Thanks Abs," Gibbs said.
"Did she do that to your face?" Abby asked reaching out and lightly touching the scratches running down the left side of his face.
Gibbs held onto her hand so she couldn't touch his sore face. "I'm ok," he said.
"Will you at least let me clean those scratches out for you?" she pleaded.
Gibbs grumbled his approval, taking advantage of the excuse to let Rachel sit by herself a little longer. Abby quickly retrieved a first aid kit and started digging through it, searching for the needed supplies. "No band-aids," Gibbs instructed.
"I know," Abby said. "I'll just clean it out for you, that way you don't get an infection. I saw pictures of the hell hole that monster was living in. Who knows what kind of diseases you could pick up?"
Gibbs sat patiently while Abby cleaned his open wounds, watching as Rachel settled down once again. She rested her head on the table and closed her eyes as if she were trying to go to sleep. That made Gibbs smile. He would let her sleep for a couple minutes then wake her, just to frustrate her even more.
"Ok," Abby said, "you're all cleaned up. You should be safe from infection and disease."
"Thanks, Abs," Gibbs said. He let Rachel sleep for five minutes then barged into the interrogation room, slammed a chair down in front of her and slapped his folder onto the table near her head, making as much noise as possible.
Rachel groaned and grumbled and rubbed her eyes as she raised her head up. "The hell do you want?" she moaned angrily.
"Answers," Gibbs said calmly.
"I ain't got any of those," Rachel said, her eyes only half open. She watched as Gibbs opened the folder he'd brought in with him.
"You're in a lot of trouble, Morrison," Gibbs said. "The only way for you to help yourself out, is to help me."
Rachel cocked her head to the side with a nasty look on her face. "You're just a pig and I don't help no pigs. You ain't got nothing on me."
"I've got you for possession with more than enough illegal narcotics to lock you up for the rest of your miserable life," Gibbs said laying out photographs of the drugs they'd found when they entered the house. "I've got your blood results saying you have enough PCP in your system to kill a horse," he said showing her the printout Abby had provided him with. "And I've got your daughter locked up in a dog kennel in your basement infested with rodents and human waste," he said as he laid out several more pictures.
"That ain't your jurisdiction," Rachel said smugly.
"No," Gibbs agreed, "it's not anymore but him," he said taking out a picture of First Lieutenant Ethan Morrison and laying it in front of her, "he is my jurisdiction."
"Ethan committed suicide," Rachel said defensively. "That wasn't my fault."
"Hmm," Gibbs said pulling out another piece of paper but keeping it to himself, "I don't think so. There was no gunshot residue on his hand. Do you know what that means? That means he wasn't holding the gun that killed him." He watched as the woman started squirming a bit in her seat. He had her just where he wanted her. "Ballistics show the gun was 18 inches away from Ethan's head when it was fired. People who commit suicide always hold the gun directly to their skin because they don't want to miss. They want to make sure they get the job done right the first time. That, along with a few statements from people who knew Ethan and a few other pieces of evidence is enough to convict you for the murder of a United States Marine and that, Rachel, is my jurisdiction and I'm going to personally see to it that everyone in your cell block knows what you did to your child. Do you know what they do to child abusers in prison?"
Gibbs sat back in his chair and let Rachel process what he'd just told her. Some of what he'd said had been a lie in hopes of scaring her. They had enough circumstantial evidence to put her on trial but he knew the case against her was no sure thing. A confession would make the whole process a lot easier.
"I don't believe you," Rachel said after thinking for a moment. "You can't do that."
"An anonymous call into the prison?" Gibbs said. "I can and I will. I'll do it for Kellie and for Ethan."
Rachel looked into Gibbs' eyes and knew by the agent's stern expression that he wasn't messing around but she wasn't ready to give up just yet, not with the hope of getting out of jail still looming. If she confessed to pulling the trigger of the gun that killed Ethan, there was no way she would get out of jail. She'd been in and out several times on drug charges. She was arrogantly confident that she'd get out again, despite the mountain of evidence they had against her. "I'll take my chances in court," she said snidely.
Gibbs couldn't help but feel a little defeated at not getting a confession but on the other hand he really felt like he was getting somewhere. After going over the evidence and speaking with her, there was no doubt in his mind that she had, in fact, murdered her husband in cold blood. He collected all the pictures and papers lying on the table and tucked them back into his folder then exited the room, leaving her alone once again. After making sure there was someone in observation to keep an eye on her, he headed back up to the bullpen.