Chapter 1
Today...
"Boy, this place looks creepy," Tony said. "I vote that we just pretend that we know there's nothing to find in the house and move on."
Tim looked through the windshield. The house did look creepy. It was one of those huge mansions that had been forgotten and overgrown. It was shrouded by trees that were in varying stages of dying, meaning that the sun only filtered through in a few places. The house itself had decayed until the front of it looked like an evil face staring down at them. It was tempting to go along with Tony's joking suggestion, but both of them knew that wasn't going to happen.
"If you want to do that, I'll let you tell Gibbs that the big, bad house scared you."
Tony grimaced. "No. We both know that's not going to work. Let's just get this over with."
Tim smiled and they both got out of the car.
"Seriously, though," Tim said as they approached the front door, "we should be careful about the floors and walls. There could be rotted out joists and boards. We don't want to fall into the crawl space or through the ceiling."
"Yeah." Tony paused as they got to the steps. "I vote that we bring in a bulldozer, knock the house down and let Abby go through the debris!"
"Tempting, but we'd probably have to go through the debris and Abby would just get to process what we found."
"True. Okay, then. I guess we'll go inside."
Tim chuckled and they carefully walked up the three steps to the front door. The porch creaked, but held.
"This was probably a beautiful house a hundred years ago. I wonder why it was abandoned."
"Too far from DC to be appealing to anyone, too expensive to maintain. Maybe the last owner died without any family and no one knew about it," Tony said. "Lots of possibilities."
"Yeah."
They tried the front door. It wasn't locked. No big surprise there. When they stepped inside, it was dark and dingy. Also no big surprise. A few pieces of rotting furniture graced the rooms but it was otherwise empty.
"I'm glad it's sunny today. We'd have to have flashlights to walk through this place during a rainstorm," Tim said.
"And we'd probably be drenched. I'll bet the roof is shot."
Tim nodded.
"Well, where do you want to start?"
"Let's just clear the house, first. Make sure there aren't any squatters. Then, we can start searching. I doubt that we're going to find any clues about what happened to Naughton around here."
"Yeah, but this is the last area where he was definitely seen."
"A year ago. Which probably means that he's left the country with all the money, not that he's hiding out in an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere."
Tim agreed but they went room by room, checking for any unofficial residents. Beyond a number of mice (both living and dead), one stray dog, and more bugs than they could count, there was nothing.
The dog started following them as they walked through. It was probably a mutt, not too big, and it seemed tame enough, but it was rather smelly.
"Looking for a new owner?" Tim asked the dog.
"You looking for a new dog?" Tony retorted.
"Maybe. It's been about a year since Jethro died. I got used to having a dog. Maybe I'd like to have one that I actually chose."
"I thought you liked Jethro."
"I did, but I didn't like the name, and I didn't like how I got him."
"So instead, you'll enjoy having a smelly, dirty, infected mutt?"
Tim laughed. "Hey, at least, I'd get to name him myself."
"Better you than me."
"Obviously. He's following me, not you."
Tony laughed, too.
"Well, the house is clear of anything human. I guess we can start looking. Don't get distracted by Fido, there."
"I won't. I'll start upstairs and work my way down. You start down and work your way up."
"Sounds good. Don't fall through the floor."
"I won't."
Tim walked up the stairs with the dog following behind him. He paused and looked down on it. Sure, it was mangy and dirty, but it seemed to have a good nature to it, and he'd been genuinely sad when Jethro had died the year before. However, he'd been old and the vet had said that he was really old in dog years. He'd been waiting for the right time to get a new dog and here was a new dog. Then, Tim smiled as he looked down.
Well, here was a used dog that might just be what he was looking for.
"What do you think?" he asked. "You want to come with me when we're done?"
The dog barked at him once and wagged its tail.
"Okay. I'll persuade Tony to let you in the car. For now, you can come with me."
Tim began going through each room on the second floor, the dog on his heels the whole time.
Then, at the end of the hall, Tim stopped for a minute. He could have sworn he saw something moving. He froze, but the movement stopped. He took another step and saw movement again.
Then, he laughed at himself.
"It's a mirror," he said aloud. "A mirror at the end of the hall. Man, I scared myself for a second."
He started down the hall, even though the movement was still a little unnerving. It was just dim enough that he couldn't discern his own features.
Suddenly, there was a crashing sound from downstairs. The dog was startled by the noise and ran off.
"Tony! You okay?" Tim called.
"Fine!" came the faint reply. "I just found a rotten floorboard. No problem!"
"You sure?"
"Positive!"
"Okay!"
Tim walked to the mirror and looked at it for a moment. It was extremely ornate and didn't really fit into the decor of the rest of the house. It looked like something more appropriate for a castle.
He considered why it might be in this particular spot, but then, shook his head and turned to go into the master bedroom.
But he saw something out of the corner of his eye just as he turned. He looked at the mirror again. Then, he looked back down the hall. Then, he looked back at the mirror.
"What in the world–?"
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tony freed his foot from the floor and grimaced. Thankfully, it was only one board, not any of the others around it. He heard the click of paws. He looked over and saw the dog run out of the house.
"Guess he didn't like you so much after all, McGee," Tony said softly with a grin.
He continued on his way, but then, there was the sound of breaking glass from upstairs.
"McGee? You okay?"
There was no reply.
"McGee!"
Then, there was an inarticulate shout.
Without wasting any more time, Tony ran up the stairs and looked around.
"Tim!"
Down at the end of the hall, Tim was lying on the ground, covered in shattered pieces of the mirror.
"Tim!"
Tony ran over and knelt down beside him.
Tim's eyes fluttered open and, for just a second, they looked strange, but then, they were normal and Tony didn't bother with worrying about that.
"Tim, can you hear me?"
"Y-Yeah."
"What happened?"
"I don't know," Tim said, looking confused.
There weren't any cuts on him from the mirror, strangely enough. Tim started to sit up.
"Hey, wait a minute. The glass might cut you."
"Glass?"
Tim looked at himself.
"The mirror."
"Yeah. Did it fall on you?"
"I don't know. I don't remember. It was..." Tim shook his head. "I don't know."
Tony cleared the glass away as best he could, and then, he helped Tim stand. He seemed a little off-balance, but otherwise, okay.
"I think you'd better be done, today."
"I guess I can't say no. Did you see where the dog went?"
"Ran off."
"Too bad."
"Yeah, I guess you'll have to find a new dog somewhere else."
Tony helped Tim down the stairs and out to the car. Tim seemed happy to sit and not have to move around which told Tony that he was really out of it.
He walked around to the driver's side and was about to get in when the stray dog ran up and whined at him.
"Oh, so you want to come with us, do you?"
The dog jumped around a little and barked. Tony looked back at Tim and then at the dog. He grimaced and then opened the back car door.
"Fine, get in."
The dog jumped around a little bit more and then jumped into the car.
"You'd better pay to have this car cleaned, Tim. This is your dog, you know."
Tim smiled.
"I'm okay with that."
Tony called Gibbs and then, with his permission, they headed back to DC. Tim was basically back to normal by the time they got back to NCIS. He insisted that he didn't need to be checked out by a doctor. It was just a little knock and he would go home and have a good rest. Gibbs insisted that Tim get checked out by Ducky, at least, and he didn't let Tim drive home, but after that, he had to admit that Tim did seem fine.
They hadn't found anything in their case, but since it was a cold case, it was okay. Not great, but the time frame wasn't urgent.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tim opened the door and gestured.
"Okay, come on in." The dog ambled in beside Tim. "First things, first. You are in desperate need of a bath."
The dog whined at him.
"No arguments, pooch. You stink."
Tim ushered the dog into the bathroom and had a brief battle to get him in, but remembering Jethro's dislike of baths on occasion, Tim knew what to do, and this dog was nowhere near as large as Jethro.
After cleaning him up, Tim could say that, although he definitely needed a trim, this was a pretty good-looking dog. He was rather wrinkled with a flat face, and his fur was dark, almost black was a few lighter splotches. A unique-looking dog, nothing he'd ever seen before. He wasn't huge, by any means, but he also wasn't tiny.
Tim had got Tony to stop and get some dog food, so he was able to feed the dog.
He was happy to get out Jethro's old dishes and set them up in the kitchen. What would Delilah think of this? Right now, he didn't care. He was just happy to have a dog again. He had wanted a dog before Abby had forced Jethro on him. He hadn't wanted to get a dog instantly after Jethro died, and he felt that the right dog would find him. Maybe, it now had.
"All right," he said, as he watched the dog eat. "We need to decide what I'm going to call you and how I'm going to train you to answer to it."
The dog looked at him, whuffled a little and then went back to eating. Tim smiled.
As he watched the dog, he had a strange feeling wash over him. He wasn't sure where it had come from, but he felt a sudden chill. The dog stopped eating and trotted over to him. He got up on his hind legs and stared deeply into Tim's eyes. Then, with that wrinkled, doggy face in his, a name come into his mind. Or rather a word. Maybe a word. He would never had considered it a name for anyone, especially not a dog.
"Vardr," he said, softly. "Why does that seem like a good name for you? I don't even know what that is."
The dog... Vardr, licked his face and then went back to his food. Tim decided to try an experiment.
"Vardr," he said.
The dog looked up from the food dish.
"No way," Tim said. "I know it can't be that easy. I had a dog before."
The dog, Vardr, went back to eating.
Tim shook his head and decided to find out the breed of his new dog. He would get it thoroughly checked at a vet tomorrow, but he was curious. So he got on his computer and started searching. After a few minutes, he found the Shar Pei, but the pictures didn't look exactly like this dog and the Shar Pei was a rare breed. This was probably a mutt of some kind which would make sense for a stray. Maybe the breeding had been accidental and they'd abandoned the puppies somewhere? Tim wasn't an expert on dog breeding or on dogs themselves, but he could see some people being so obsessed with a pure pedigree that they wouldn't want a mutt. Personally, Tim thought mutts were usually the better dogs anyway. Certainly, their health seemed better and they lived longer lives.
"Well, Vardr..." Tim paused, and again, Vardr looked up. "Why in the world would that be your name? It sounds like something made up and the odds of me coming up with the same made-up word as another random person are astronomically low."
Still, it seemed that he had, indeed, hit upon a name the dog would acknowledge. He didn't mind it so much but it just seemed weird.
"Okay, I guess you're Vardr, then. Now, there are rules to living here. I am in charge, and you will not chew my shoes or sleep on my bed. Right?"
Vardr looked at him, sniffed and looked thoroughly unimpressed. Tim smiled.
"Yep. That's what I thought. Oh, and one more thing, no piddling inside. If you need a bathroom break, you need to let me know. I don't want to be cleaning up after you, and convincing Delilah that this is a good idea will be hard if you start making the place smell bad. Got it?"
Vardr whined a little.
"Well, we've got a week to get all this figured out. That's when she'll be back. Okay?"
Vardr ambled over to the door and scratched at it.
"Okay, now, you're weirding me out. You need to go out?"
Another whine.
"Okay. Well, let's go."
Tim got a leash and a collar and put it around Vardr's neck. Then, he took him out. Vardr did his business and then seemed to be ready to go back in. Maybe this wasn't just a stray, after all.
That would mean that someone might be looking for him. It was too bad, but he'd have to put up a notice about it. If this dog did indeed have an owner, it wouldn't be right to keep him.
"Well, Vardr, I'll be happy to keep you as long as I can, but if someone is missing you, I don't want to keep you away from them. We'll just play it by ear, okay?"
Vardr barked at him once and then walked over to a chair and jumped on it.
"Oh, no. Not on the furniture. I don't have Jethro's dog bed anymore, but I can get you a spare blanket to sleep on, for now."
Tim went searching and did find an old blanket in the closet. He folded it so that there would be some padding and then he ushered Vardr off the chair and over to the blanket.
"That's your bed until I figure out something better. The blanket, not the chair. Got it?"
Vardr stepped onto the blanket, turned around in a circle a couple of times and then yawned and settled down on it. Tim smiled the dog's eyes closed. He hoped he could keep the dog, but even if he couldn't, it was definitely time to get a new one.
After watching the dog sleep for a few minutes, Tim decided it was time for him to get some sleep, too. He ate some dinner, changed into sweats and was asleep before he'd been lying down for a minute.