Every Rose Has Its Thorn

Disclaimer: Don't own, etc.

Part 2 – A Case and a Concern

"Morning, probies!"

Both McGee and Ziva looked up as Tony made his way through the bullpen to his desk with a jaunty smile on his face. He was quite cheerful for a Monday morning.

"It looks like someone had a good weekend," commented Ziva and McGee just returned to his work.

"Oh, I did."

"And I guess we'll get all the gory details," muttered McGee.

Tony just grinned. Normally he would share his exploits, but this time…well, let them wonder.

"Not gory, Tim, not gory at all," Tony said with a grin and seated himself at his desk to check his email.

"Really?" Ziva shot him a curious look. "So you did not hook up this weekend?"

Tony just smirked. He began to see the utility of withholding information from his co-workers as they often did from him, but the truth was he just didn't want to share. The weekend had been great, other than the headache and upset stomach he'd had Saturday morning. He had attributed the feeling to mixing whiskey and wine the night before, and luckily that bit of discomfort had quickly passed, allowing him to enjoy the rest of the weekend. He and Faith had met for brunch on Sunday and then spent the rest of the day together. It had been…nice. Relaxing, without the demands placed on Tony by his usual conquests. He could definitely get used to this…

"Gear up!"

Gibbs' command yanked him out of his reverie and Tony barely managed to keep his frustration hidden. He had hoped to get a break from active cases so he could keep a dinner date for tonight but apparently his luck had run out. Good thing Faith would actually understand.

"Where are we headed, Boss?" he asked as he grabbed his gear and followed Gibbs to the elevator.

"Georgetown. Dead Navy Lieutenant was UA this morning. His CO sent a junior officer to check who found him dead in his apartment."

"Got it."

Tony and McGee took the truck, while Gibbs and Ziva rode in one of the sedans to the site. Ducky and Palmer followed in the ME's van.

They arrived on the scene to find Metro police already in place, guarding the scene, along with an Ensign who was looking distinctly unhappy.

"Ziva, talk to the witness. DiNozzo: shoot and sketch. McGee: ID, then bag and tag.

"Yes, Gibbs."

"On it, Boss."

Ziva took the young Ensign aside to question him while Gibbs, Tony, and McGee opened the apartment door and stepped inside.

"Whew," muttered Tony. "Guessing this isn't a fresh one." The apartment was warm, and the smell that permeated the space was decidedly unpleasant.

The three agents carefully moved through the apartment while Ducky and Jimmy made their way over to the body, which lay in front of the TV. Tony noted the channel that was playing and quickly switched it off, then documented the position of the body for them before they carefully rolled it over. His eyes widened when he saw the face: swollen, but still recognizable. Gibbs caught his expression and turned fully to him.

"You know him?"

"I…he looks familiar, Boss."Gibbs raised an eyebrow, obviously waiting for clarification. "I saw him at the pub on Friday night. He, uh, left an impression." Gibbs continued to stare at him and Tony started to question his own evasion concerning the man's identity.

"Lieutenant Treyton Michael Pratchett," McGee announced after he obtained information from the thumbprint scanner. "Stationed at the Naval Research Lab."

"So he was a geek?" asked Tony, unable to hide his surprise. "That explains the choice in TV channels." McGee shot him a dirty look.

"Administrator. Supply and Information Services."

"Huh. Sounds thrilling. Not much of a reason for him to wind up dead, though." An uncomfortable feeling was starting to churn in Tony's gut, and he really didn't like what it was telling him.

"What do ya got for me, Duck?" Gibbs asked, silencing the two younger men. McGee stood and backed away to give Gibbs room to crouch down next to the M.E.

"The body has reached ambient temperature, and rigor mortis has already passed. I'd say he's been dead for at least 48 hours, but perhaps not more than 60."

"Cause of death?"

"No obvious signs of trauma. I'll have to wait until I get him to autopsy. I suspect toxicological analysis will shed some light on the manner of his demise."

"Drugs?"

"Or perhaps poison. There is evidence of emesis prior to his death."

"Uh, Ducky?" called McGee from the bathroom. "I think you might need to take a look at this." The medical examiner rose and made his way to the small room to view what McGee had seen.

"Oh dear," he murmured. "We might have a greater concern." He turned to find Gibbs waiting for further explanation. "He was vomiting blood, Jethro. That narrows down the field a bit in terms of possible causes, but there might be a biological threat as well. However, since I see no signs of hemorrhaging on the body…I believe this indicates some sort of toxin."

"So he was poisoned?" asked Tony as the unpleasant feeling intensified. "Could it be a suicide?"

"It is possible, but generally not a favored method among males."

"So we're looking at a homicide," said Gibbs.

"Very likely, I'm afraid." Ducky returned to the living room where Palmer was preparing the body for transport. He joined the young man in his task while the rest of the team spread out through the apartment to look for more evidence.

Tony carefully made his way to the kitchen and spied the remains of the shattered beer bottle. He took several pictures and the opened the fridge, which was empty except for the rest of a six-pack and a pizza box. "Doesn't look like Pratchett spent much time here," he said as he continues to snap pictures. "Also looks like he had a bit of a temper."

"After we're done here, take Ziva and go interview his co-workers," Gibbs replied as he stepped up behind the senior agent.

"On it, Boss."

After Duck and Palmer had tucked Pratchett into a body bag and removed him from the apartment, Tony and McGee finished processing the scene while Gibbs went to check on Ziva's progress.

"Doesn't look like he was rolling in money, here," McGee observed. "Jealous girlfriend, maybe? Poisoning usually points to a woman."

"Guess we'll find out…"

XXX

Several hours later, the team gathered in the bullpen to present their findings. McGee brought the man's records up on the plasma and started to recite what he had found.

"Lieutenant Treyton "Trey" Pratchett, 42, divorced, no kids. Still tracking down his ex-wife. No unusual transactions in his financials and appeared to be living within his means. Alimony payments to the wife, otherwise no major debts."

Gibbs turned to Tony and Ziva. "And?"

"Employed at the Naval Research Lab, managing bids for contracts in the Supply and Information Services. Everything he did appears to be above board. No disciplinary actions in his file. Most of his co-workers agree that he was well liked and had no enemies."

"Most?"

"Two female coworkers described him as 'possessive' and suggested that was why his wife left him. They also suggested he had quite a temper."

"Their divorce papers cited irreconcilable differences," added McGee.

"Do not say it, Tony," Ziva said as she pointed a finger at him.

"Say what? 'The wife did it'? Or in this case, ex-wife?"

"What would she have to gain from his death?"

"Peace of mind, maybe?" They all turned to look at McGee. "Looks like she filed a restraining order against him about six months ago."

"What else?"

"A Lieutenant Atherton said he thought Pratchett was dating someone, but he didn't talk about it much. Atherton recalled that Pratchett said he was glad that he finally found a 'sensible woman'."

Tony snorted softly. If 'sensible' was the best he could say about Faith, he truly hadn't deserved her…

"Something funny, DiNozzo?"

"No, Boss. Just seemed like a strange thing to comment on. About the woman, I mean."

Gibbs sent him one of his patented glares before returning his attention to the plasma. "So basically, we have nothing."

"Still waiting on Abby's results, Boss."

"Not anymore." They all turned to see Abby walk-skip towards them. "The samples from Pratchett are still running, but I tested the food and drink from his fridge and took swabs of the broken bottle. The bottles all contained a lethal dose of ethylene glycol."

"Anti-freeze. Good work, Abs. McGee, find out who had access to his apartment."

"On it, Boss."

"Abs, let me know as soon as you get the tox results back."

"You got it, Bossman." She headed back to her lab, still bouncing under the obvious effects of too much caffeine. Tony looked up at Pratchett's picture for a moment and shuddered.

"Nasty way to go."

"It could have been worse."

"How, Ziva?"

"Strychnine, belladonna, curare-"

"I really didn't want to know, Ziva."

"They why did you ask?"

"A better question: How do you know?"

"I read, Tony."

"Are you two done?"

"Yes, Gibbs."

"Yes, Boss."

Gibbs turned to the third member of his team. "McGee?"

The third agent placed his phone back on the cradle and looked up. "Pratchett's apartment manager, Barry Petrucci, is out of the office but should be back within the hour."

"Tony, go. Take Ziva with you."

The two agents headed for the elevator and Gibbs turned to McGee.

"Track Pratchett's whereabouts before he died. I want to know if there's anyone else who could have had motive and means."

"Yes, Boss."

Gibbs made his way down to autopsy where he found his old friend bent over the earthly remains of Lieutenant Pratchett while regaling his assistant with yet another story. When Gibbs entered he looked up and grinned.

"Ah, Jethro, I've been expecting you. Mr. Palmer, if you would be so kind, please take these samples up to Abigail."

"Yes, Doctor." Palmer scurried off and Gibbs raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"I thought Abby already had samples."

"Blood and tissue samples, yes. However, I observed something during the post-mortem which led me to believe I should have additional samples analyzed." He lifter one of the Lieutenant's hands and turned it so the fingernails were visible and pointed to a series of white lines across the bottom half of the nails, parallel to the base. "These appear to be what are known as Mee's lines. It's a sign of chronic arsenic poisoning. I also found cutaneous hyperpigmentation, or dark spots on the Lieutenant's hands and keratosis, or thickening of the skin, on his feet. I suspect he's been exposed for a number of weeks, based on the extent of all three symptoms."

"Someone poisoned him with both antifreeze and arsenic?"

"It appears, yes, although I doubt it was the same person. Poisoners tend to pick one substance, and as I said, he has been exposed to the arsenic for a greater period of time."

"Two perps and two different motives."

"I'm afraid so, Jethro. But we will have to wait for the results of the toxicological analysis. The analysis of his hair will tell us the length of exposure and if the levels have increased over time."

"Thanks, Duck," Gibbs said as he turned and headed for the elevator. This case was looking like it would be even more of a headache than any of them had expected. Instead of one mystery, they now had two.

Or three, he thought as the metal box he had just entered ascended. Gotta figure what DiNozzo is hiding…

XXX

The apartment manager had been decidedly unhelpful. He insisted on calling his lawyer and then Tony and Ziva had been forced to wait until the man arrived. After accusing them of harassment and a plethora of other offenses, Petrucci finally agreed to cooperate after he had been assured that they were not trying to 'ruin his reputation'. Tony had been ready to ruin something at that point, but he had remained calm through the remainder of the interview. Petrucci reluctantly informed them that the only official spare key was kept in the manager's office, but there was no formal regulation against resident's making spare keys since it was policy to change locks after each tenant moved out. Petrucci suspected that Pratchett's ex-wife had a key, since he had seen her at the apartment on several occasions, but the most recent was about three months ago.

Tony felt a bit of relief after they finished the interview and headed back to the Yard. It looked like this case was going to be fairly straightforward. Or at least it seemed that way until they got back to NCIS and learned about Ducky's suspicions.

"Two poisons? This guy must have seriously pissed someone off."

"And we need to find out who," Gibbs declared.

"I've been trying to track his routine using credit card records, but it looks like he made mainly cash withdrawals from the ATM next to his apartment building and only used the cards for online purchases."

"Anything interesting in those?"

"Just a Netflix subscription and a couple of items per month from Amazon. Mainly books. Seemed to be a big fan of Tom Clancy and Stephen King."

"Anything to indicate he was buying gifts for a girlfriend?" asked Ziva.

"Nothing specific, no, unless his girlfriend was into horror and military technothrillers."

Guess I'll have to ask, Tony thought, and winced. He really wasn't looking forward to that conversation.

"Any luck on tracking down the ex-wife, McGee?"

"Her employer says she's at a conference in Denver. Left Sunday night and isn't expected to return until Wednesday."

"Go talk to her as soon as she does get back, McGee. Looks like we'll have to go re-interview Pratchett's co-workers, and see if we can track down the girlfriend." Gibbs checked his watch and sighed. "All right, get out of here, and be back at 0700 tomorrow." McGee and Ziva started to shut down their computers, while Tony sent a quick text to Faith to let her know he was on her way and then tended to his own workstation. He noticed the sensation of being watched and looked up to meet Gibbs' gaze.

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Plans for the evening, DiNozzo?"

"Nothing special, Boss. Why?"

Gibbs continued to stare at him until Tony dropped his gaze and reached down to grab his bag. "See you tomorrow, Gibbs." He dashed for the elevator and breathed a sigh of relief as the doors slid shut. His relief was short-lived when he remembered what his next task would be.

XXX

The crowd in the pub was a little thinner and Tony was able to quickly locate Faith, seated on a booth in the far corner of the building, a half-full glass of wine in front of her. Tony slid into the seat across from her and gave her a megawatt smile.

"Sorry I'm late."

"I must admit, I was surprised you actually made it." She waved to the barmaid who brought a wine glass for Tony and a couple of menus before retreating. "After all, you still work for Gibbs. No current cases?"

"Actually, we do have one, and…I need to talk to you about it."

She raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't that be considered a breach of protocol?"

"Not as a JAG member." He lowered his voice and his tone turned even more serious. "I…it's about Trey."

Faith paled noticeably. "Did he…?"

"His last name is Pratchett?" She nodded and Tony sighed. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but…"

"He's dead, isn't he? He's your current case."

"Yes."

All of the color drained from her face and she dropped her gaze, blinking several times before she looked at Tony again. "What happened?"

"Working on that."

"He didn't…"

"Looks like a homicide."

"Damn it." Her expression hardened. "Are you speaking to me as a suspect?"

Tony sighed. "No, Faith, as a witness. Do you know of any reason why someone would want to kill him?"

The anger fell away and she looked suddenly vulnerable. "He didn't talk much about his work or other interests. I'd only been seeing him for about a month, but…I'd been thinking of breaking it off for nearly a week before I finally did. Our relationship was…casual. Or at least I believed it was. It was apparent that Trey did not feel the same way. He was…controlling."

"He had a temper."

"Yes, but he kept it mostly in check around me. He knew I wouldn't tolerate outbursts."

Tony grinned. "I'll keep that in mind." Faith gave a faint smile and he allowed his expression to grow serious again. "So no idea…?"

"None, I'm afraid." She leaned back and regarded him for several moments. "Is this going to put you in trouble with Gibbs? Because of our meeting like this?"

"Probably," he admitted. "But I'll deal with it." He put a gentle hand over her wrist. "I'm sorry about Trey."

"Thank you. He…he was someone worth knowing."

They sat together in silence, sharing a bottle of wine and each other's company, both unaware that they were being observed, and that plans concerning their future had already been made.

TBC...