Sorry for the delay in updating but I have had schoolwork to attend to. Hope you enjoy this one. I've had plenty of time to write this during my Memorial Day weekend (three days instead of two for those that are not from the U.S.) which I have been spending at my grandma's house, lying around and being bored to death in between bouts of furniture/crap moving. Anyway, read away! Reviews appreciated.
~NZA :)
Tony and Ziva had gotten nothing of use from Suzanna Kryer's husband either and Gibbs was starting to run low on patience. They were waiting for Angela to discover the identity of the body belonging to skull number two, which she insisted would happen very soon. Finally, she came waddling into the main lab where everyone was loitering about and waiting for something to do. Abby and Hodgins had found nothing significant in the evidence, McGee had gotten nothing from Kryer's and Coleman's records and bank statements, and the bodies had all been examined. Each woman was determined to have died of exsanguination from a cut to the neck that severed both the jugular vein and carotid artery. Nicks to the bones in that area supported that. It was also determined that the women were beaten and raped, a fact that left everyone in a melancholy silence until Angela emerged from her office.
"Got it," she announced. "I got her background information and records too, so there's no need, Agent McGee." She smiled at the agent, who blushed and smiled in return.
"Ange?" Brennan called from the platform. "What is the victim's identity?"
"Oh, right. So I reconstructed her face and ran it through military and Missing Persons, which is where I got the hit. Her name is Christine Tyler, twenty-seven years old, unmarried, and no kids. She was reported missing by her mom, Jude Tyler, nearly three months ago. Judging by the time frame, she was killed pretty shortly after she was kidnapped. Tyler doesn't resemble either of the two recent victims and neither does the third skull I just reconstructed, which I'm still running. Anyway, the only thing they seem to have in common is the fact that they're all Caucasian. Christine Tyler doesn't have a criminal record, only a few speeding tickets, but hey, who doesn't?" She paused and turned to Brennan. "Rhetorical question, Bren," she told her friend.
"Did you find anything in her bank statements or call logs, Angela?" Booth asked.
"Nothing from her phone, which stopped being active right around the time she went missing. But the last places she used her credit card were a bar and a cafe a block from her business. She works- used to work at a floral boutique as the manager. I called and the person I talked to said her position still hasn't been officially refilled. They were holding out hope for a safe return, I guess. And no, G-man, I didn't tell them anything."
Booth grinned and turned to Gibbs. "The bar might be a good place to start looking. Maybe that's where our killer picks up his victims."
Gibbs nodded and turned to Angela. "Did she go to the bar before or after she went to the cafe?"
"After. Around nine p.m. the Friday before she was reported missing."
"Good. Agent Booth and I will go there. DiNozzo, McGee, go talk to Jude Tyler. Maybe her daughter told her something important. David, stay here, I don't need you and DiNozzo bickering some more. Help Abby or something." Gibbs began walking out, effectively stopping any of his agents' impending protests. Booth jogged to catch up with him.
"Agent Gibbs, seeing as all the bodies have been analyzed, I don't see any reason why Dr. Brennan shouldn't be allowed to accompany us. She is my partner, after all," Booth said, trying to convey that he was not going to take 'no' for answer.
"Fine," Gibbs complied, not in the mood to fight with the younger FBI agent. "As long as she doesn't get in the way."
Booth grinned. "Hey, Bones! C'mon, you're with us!"
Brennan smiled as well, shedding her lab coat and hurrying after the fast-retreating men.
"Okay, how are we going to do this?" Booth asked, following Gibbs into the bar Angela had directed them to and holding the door open behind him for Brennan.
"We'll talk to the bartender. Show her the pictures, see if she knows anything," Gibbs told him. He had to speak loudly to be heard over the music and clinking of glasses. Though it wasn't very late and not even dark yet, there were a lot of people in the small and poorly lit bar.
Booth nodded. "Three months is a long time to hold onto security footage, but they might still have it."
The three weaved through the crowd and up to the bar. They only had to stand at the counter for a minute before the bartender noticed them and made her way over. She wasn't old, but she wasn't young either. Brennan estimated that the woman was in her mid to late thirties. She had thin, shoulder length red hair and green eyes that contrasted nicely with the eye shadow she wore. She had a friendly smile and was wearing a dark blue t-shirt, black slacks, and blue Converse sneakers.
"Hi there," she greeted warmly. "What can I get for you guys?"
Gibbs and Booth held up their badges and she leaned in to look at them, surprise coloring her features.
"I'm Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS, and this Agent Booth of the FBI and his partner, Dr. Brennan. We need to ask you a few questions."
"Okay, sure." She gestured for them to follow her down to the end of the bar where there was less activity. "What kind of questions? My name is Lynnette by the way. Lynnette Carlson."
"We're conducting a murder investigation and this may have been the last place one of our victims was seen," Booth informed the bartender. He pulled out the Missing Persons photograph Angela had given him on his way out of the lab, setting it on the counter between them. "Do you recognize this woman? She would have been in here about three months ago. On a Friday."
Lynnette peered closely at the photo. "I don't. Sorry. But my shifts end at seven and I don't work Fridays through Sundays so you're probably talking to the wrong person. I'm sure Joey would have been here though. Josephine Parks. She works the seven p.m. to two a.m. shift Mondays through Fridays. You can wait or come back later; she gets here right before I leave. It will be a couple hours though."
"Thanks," Booth told her. "We'll come back later."
Lynnette nodded, about to walk away, when Gibbs stopped her and set out three more pictures. Two were photographs of Suzanne Kryer and Elizabeth Coleman shortly before their deaths and the third was a print out of the reconstruction Angela had made of the third skull, the one she hadn't identified yet when they'd left. "Recognize these?"
The red headed bartender slowly shook her head as she examined the photos. "Nope, sorry. Like I said, Joey starts her shifts at seven. A lot more people start coming in around that time. You'll probably have better luck talking to her. Now, if you don't mind, I really have to get back to work."
Gibbs nodded and she walked off to tend to a new customer at the other end of the bar.
"Well that was no help," Booth announced as they exited the bar. "Bones and I will come back at seven to talk to this Joey Parks lady, Gibbs. You coming too?"
The silver haired team leader shook his head. "No. By that time your artist should have the next identity and we'll have more to look into. Let's head back and wait for DiNozzo and McGee."
Tony and Tim left shortly after the other three and drove to the address Angela had given them for Jude Tyler.
"So, what woman were you and Ziva fighting about?" McGee asked, breaking the silence that enveloped the navy blue Charger.
"None of your business, NcNosy," Tony replied, throwing the younger agent a mock glare.
Tim simply raised his eyebrows.
"Fine. If you must know, it was some lady behind the counter at the gas station. Ziva seems to think that I was googling her. Her words, not mine," he added.
"Were you?"
"No. I was not. Why do you care anyway, McGoo? You better not be using us for ideas for your new book."
"I don't really. And I'm not. I was just curious."
"Humph. Well, save your curiosity for the case, 'cause we're here." Tony slowed and turned into the driveway of Jude Tyler's house.
It was small A-frame home painted a pale blue with a large and colorful flower garden out front. Pink, red, and yellow tulips lined the stone path that led up to the front steps. Tony and McGee made their way up the path and to the door, ringing the bell and waiting patiently.
They didn't have to wait long. The white door swung open to reveal a small woman in her early fifties. She had her long grey hair pulled up in a bun and looked extremely fit for her age. "Hello," she greeted warily. "Can I help you boys?"
"Uhh..." McGee began.
"Yeah." Tony took over, flipping out his badge and showing it to her. "Special Agent DiNozzo. This is Special Agent McGee. NCIS. Are you Jude Tyler?"
She nodded her head, less hesitant now. "Yes, I am. What can I do for you, agents? Please," she stepped aside and opened the door wider, "come inside."
Tony and McGee complied and followed Jude down the hall and into her living room. She gestured for them to take a seat on the couch, a light blue affair with white flowers.
"Can I get you two anything to drink?" she asked. At their polite refusal, she took a seat herself in the matching flowered armchair.
"Mrs. Tyler," McGee began hesitantly. It was never easy to tell someone their child was dead.
"Jude, please," she said, not unkindly.
"Ah, Jude. We're here about your daughter, Christine."
Her warm smile dropped. "I figured as much."
"Five bodies were found in the woods early this morning. We recently identified one as your daughter," Tony told her. "I'm sorry, ma'am."
Jude nodded slowly, a downcast expression on her face. She did not cry though. Tony figured she would save that for later. Now she only seemed to want answers. "Do you know how it happened? I just can't think of anyone that would want to hurt Christine."
"We know it was murder, around the same time she went missing. Likely a serial killer at this point. We're doing our best to track the killer down. I'm sorry," he said again, quietly. He didn't ask if she knew anything else. His gut told him it wouldn't pan out anyway.
The grieving mother shook her head sternly. "Don't be sorry, Agent DiNozzo. Just find the terrible person that did this."
As they walked back down the path to the car, McGee glanced at Tony. "You didn't tell her how Christine died," he said.
"She doesn't want to hear that, McGee."
"But don't you think she has a right to know?"
"But she doesn't need to. She doesn't need to know that her daughter was beaten and raped before having her throat sliced open and then left to bleed out and be strung up on a tree like some macabre Christmas ornament."
"You're right." McGee nodded. "Sorry."
"Rule six, McGee."
"Right."
"Come on, let's head back. Maybe Gibbs and that Booth guy got something at the bar."
It took them fifteen minutes to get back to the Jeffersonian. When Tony and McGee entered the lab, they found Gibbs, Booth, Brennan, and Cam were talking and waiting for them near the platform. Daisy and Sweets had gone off to who knows where about an hour earlier and Ducky, Palmer, and Abby had retreated with Hodgins to his lab, where they discussed forensics and Ducky regaled them with tales from his youth. Ziva, with nothing else to do, had followed Angela back to her office. They were casually discussing the particulars of the latter woman's pregnancy. Angela was also contemplating how to go about bringing up the other woman's relationship with her attractive partner in a subtle manner. When they heard Tony and McGee return, everyone, scientist and agent alike, gathered around near the steps up to the platform to discuss the advances in the case.
"Nothing from Jude Tyler, Boss," Tony said.
Booth nodded. "We have to go back to the bar at seven. That's when the bartender who would have seen Christine Tyler starts her shift."
"I've reconstructed the last face and I have it running now," Angela announced. "And I got a hit on the fourth one. Her name is Jane Wyatt and she's a secretary at a law office across town. No relatives nearby so you'll have to talk her coworkers. She's single, Caucasian, twenty-three. Been missing for nearly six months."
"My team will check up on her," Gibbs stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. "But it's too late to go to her office now. We'll have to wait till tomorrow."
Everyone nodded in agreement. The ensuing silence was broken by the ringing of Gibbs's phone. He pulled it out and flipped it open, pressing it to his ear.
"Gibbs," he answered gruffly. After a couple minutes of silence on their end, he hung up and stuffed the phone back in his pocket. He looked up and stared grimly at the people surrounding him. "That was the forest ranger. A hiker just found three more bodies less than a mile from our first crime scene."