Chapter 7
Gibbs came into the basement lab with Lieutenant Jake Liddell in tow to find his team checking out the latest batch of Tony photos, delivered that morning with a second note in an unmarked padded envelope. This package had consisted of a surprise additional item as well; a small vial of blood, which was presently undergoing detailed analysis.
"Nice pajamas," McGee commented absently, as he studied one particularly disturbing shot.
"Yuck. Tony wouldn't be seen dead in those nasty things," Abby bristled protectively. "Besides, he always sleeps in the buff…" her voice trailed away as she realized that startled eyes were now entirely focused on her. "…or so one assumes."
Her normally pale cheeks pinked up nicely.
"You know what they say about assumption Abs," Gibbs offered, as he came up behind the group and peered over their shoulders.
Ziva half-turned to look inquisitively from their visitor back to her boss.
"Lieutenant Liddell dropped by to update us on the investigation," Gibbs explained quickly at the unspoken question, mostly to counter any forthcoming biting aside from his agent. "And to let us know that Tony is officially off the hook."
Abby narrowed her eyes and scowled menacingly at the detective.
"We could've told him that!"
In actuality, Liddell and his own homicide team had known that Anthony DiNozzo was an innocent victim long before the decision was finally taken to share their findings with NCIS. Chief amongst the overwhelming and mounting proof was the security camera footage from the mall parking garage; even though the real perpetrators had chosen the location well to ensure all of the action took place just out of camera range or in the shadows. Too bad for them also that as yet they had been unable to identify the driver and passenger of a battered tan sedan, filmed arriving and leaving that evening.
He had argued heavily in favor of a joint investigation, but the usual petty inter-departmental bureaucracy had gotten in the way of good old-fashioned common sense for a while. This is what had fuelled his decision to come here personally this morning. And he was glad he had.
"Just doing my job," he offered to the striking-looking scientist, with a semi-apologetic shrug.
"Which is what you three should be doing," Gibbs growled out. Now wasn't the time for finger-pointing. "Okay, what have you got for me?"
Tim McGee immediately rolled across to a computer and pulled up the data he needed. When the pressure was on he often found more it more productive working down in Abby's domain, where a little of her genius could hopefully rub off on him.
"Pine Ridge was the second private clinic for Barbara Swain in 18 months," he advised, scanning the screen and picking out the relevant information and dismissing what Gibbs would term useless trivia. "The other one was right here in DC."
It was Ziva's turn to contribute now. "She was diagnosed with severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, as a direct result of what Brett Evans subjected her to. But according to her medical file it seems she was also suffering from a mild psychosis, probably originating from early childhood.
"Mental illness can often be difficult to detect," she added quickly, before Gibbs had the chance to ask how the hell Barbara Swain had passed her Navy Psyche Evaluation. "And there's no indication that she was treated for any problems previously. So we must assume that her family either knew and covered it up, or that Barbara devised her own way of dealing with it." The young Israeli shrugged, letting her teammates draw their own conclusions as to what might have occurred in Barbara Swain's troubled past.
"That wacko chaplain sure knew what he was doing when he picked her," Abby commented for all of them.
McGee took up again smoothly. "Even though she was transferred to Pine Ridge to be closer to the family home, Barbara's mother has visited on just two occasions that we know of. The only other visitors were a former roommate from Quantico, who's currently serving overseas… and an Alice Spurlock." He tapped the keyboard and pulled up a different file, which included a portrait of a hard faced woman. "She was a nurse at Pine Ridge, but left suddenly in June when her father got sick. According to her co-workers, even though she was caring for him right up until his death at the beginning of August, she still found time to go back on a pretty regular basis to visit with a couple of former patients."
"That is one caring nurse," Ziva leaned in for a closer look and winced at Spurlock's less than flattering head shot .
"Well, at least it's a place to start," conceded Gibbs.
"Alice is currently living on the family farm in Barbour County, which is…"
"A hell of a round trip to Pine Ridge," Gibbs interjected, already striding for the exit. "Ziva, you're with me. McGee….?"
"The local Sheriff's Office is expecting you, boss. "
Alice Spurlock didn't have that many visitors to her home. In fact, she generally did everything she could to discourage them; particularly the local busybodies from Moatsville. But today she positively reveled in the company.
Swaying back and forth on the old porch swing, she supped at her home made lemonade and politely answered the questions from the two Navy cops and the DC Police Lieutenant, giving them the obligatory responses with a little shock and concern thrown in for good measure every now and then.
All those times before, the deaths had been declared as suicide or natural causes - just like Papa's. If she'd only realized what an adrenaline rush could be had from getting up close and personal with the Feds!
And while she was on the subject; she wondered if NCIS had appreciated that blood sample taken from their golden boy, along with the ransom notes and those photographs with Barbara's prints all over them. They had been an inspired idea and she wanted to giggle at her own audacity. Instead, she kept her expression neutral as she gave the swing an extra push, taking pleasure from the fact that the grating squeak was obviously irritating the hell out of the foreign female agent.
"Poor Barbara," she sighed yet again. "Who would have thought she was capable of such terrible things."
"When was the last time you saw or spoke to Ms. Swain?" Gibbs, the senior agent was asking her. He had nice blue eyes, but she wasn't altogether happy with the way they were fixed on her, as if he could read her thoughts; see right into her soul.
She made a show of mulling this question over before responding. "About two weeks back."
"And Barbara was acting normally?" asked Ziva, staring deliberately at the woman sitting opposite her on the porch swing from hell. Her photo had actually done her justice, because in the flesh Alice Spurlock was an unremarkable looking individual. Bleached blonde mid-length hair was pushed off her face by an Alice band, that seemed incongruous with her hard features. She was tall as well - easily topping six feet - and today her big frame was dressed in a pair of faded denim jeans and a loose-fitting tee shirt.
"Define normal for a patient diagnosed as mentally unstableOfficer Davis?"
"David," came the curt correction. "You visited regularly with her and another patient…a Celia Chadwick?"
"Yup, that's right. Poor sweet things didn't get many visitors to speak of," Alice shook her head sorrowfully. "\But it was always a pleasure, never a chore."
"Still. That's a lot of driving," Jake Liddell observed, echoing an earlier comment from Gibbs.
"I love my work," she said earnestly, turning her attention to him, her tone losing the curtness directed at Ziva. "Besides up until recently I lived in Morgantown, near the clinic. Only moved back home when Papa started to get sick. Those girls came to depend on me. I couldn't let them down, so I went back as often as I could."
Ziva was far from finished, but decided on a slight change of tact. "Though no-one is questioning your dedication, I am curious to know why you have moved around so much. Pine Ridge was your…." she consulted her notes and the potted profile McGee had called through while they were still on the road "…fourth place of employment in the last seven years alone."
"I didn't know it was a crime to change jobs, Officer Davis," Spurlock responded, with a hint of irritation creeping back into her otherwise amicable performance.
"Da-vid. And it's just an observation."
While Ziva riled Spurlock, Gibbs took a good look around at the farm and its surrounding from his vantage point on the porch. The two-story wood-paneled house could have benefited from some minor repairs and a lick of paint here and there, but otherwise seemed in good condition.
"Nice place you have here," he offered, neatly interrupting the verbal sparring between the two women. "How many acres?"
With not much effort, Alice dragged her icy gaze from Ziva and produced her best smile for the attractive man. "125 acres in all. But I'm looking to sell up now that Papa's gone."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be," she said amused. "I never was much for hog farming. Couldn't wait to get rid of the stupid critters. Sold every last one of 'em to a meat processing plant in town." Unrepentant, she took a long, satisfying and noisy slurp of her lemonade.
And then, as if prompted by some unseen force, Gibbs got to his feet, closed his note book and slipped it into his inside pocket. Ziva and Liddell mimicked his actions, even though the detective looked ever so slightly mystified.
"Thank you for your time, Miss Spurlock," Gibbs said graciously as he reached out to shake her hand. "We'll be in touch if we have any more questions."
"Any time Agent Gibbs," she crooned, rubbing her thumb across the back of his hand. "Anything I can do to help…"
"Um…uh…pardon me!"
Reluctantly releasing her grip on Gibbs' hand, Alice turned her attention back to the annoying female agent who was smiling at her sheepishly.
"May I use your…uh…facilities? It's a long drive back to DC."
Alice's head jerked towards a cluster of ramshackle buildings. "There's an out house over there. Help yourself."
If the foreign witch thought she was setting one foot into the main house to nose around while Gibbs and the detective kept her busy, then she had another thing coming. She would never fall for that old ruse.
A moment later and despite any pent up ire, Alice was fighting to suppress a smirk at the sight of Ziva traipsing across the muddy yard. She wondered what the reaction would be if the female Fed knew that Tony and Barbara were literally beneath her feet.
"There was no sign of a tan colored sedan," a disappointed Ziva reported once they were back in their car and headed into Moatsville, "just a truck in one of the barns. Though I didn't get a chance to have a proper look around." She shook her head in irritation.
"There are still a lot of unanswered questions, " Jake Liddell muttered from the back passenger seat. "I assume we're going back with a warrant?"
Gibbs nodded, speaking without taking his eyes from the dirt road ahead. ""Should be one waiting for us when we meet up with Sheriff Coltrane."
"Then why are we leaving?" Ziva asked in exasperation. "Gibbs, she knows something…"
"I know that," he shot back. "Which is why we need to tread carefully, and why I'm letting you out here." The car came to a skidding halt, with Gibbs popping the trunk almost immediately. "Grab the gear and head back towards the farm. But you are purely to observe, Officer David," he stated pointedly. "Under no circumstances are you to approach the property, or confront Alice Spurlock until we've returned with the warrant and the manpower to execute a proper search - unless it's a life or death situation. Am I making myself clear?"
"But…" she actually started to protest until she caught the icy death glare.
"That's a direct order," he continued, with more than a hint of menace. "And if you're actually stupid enough to disobey it, then your ass is on the next plane back to Tel Aviv. Get that?"
Ziva nodded, perfectly aware that he meant every word. "Understood."
"Good. So what are you waiting for?" he growled out impatiently. "And don't forget to check in every 15 minutes."
His cell began to ring.
With a hyper Abby literally wringing her hands and pacing frenetically behind him, Ducky Mallard speed-dialed Gibbs's cell number. and was intensely relieved to hear the familiar and authoritative tone as he picked up on literally the second ring.
For once the Englishman got straight to business. "The news is not good, I'm afraid," he advised a bit more abruptly than intended, but he felt a semi-professional approach was called for under these dire circumstances. "The blood sample is definitely Tony's. And it's showing worryingly high levels of Haloperidol, an anti-psychotic, and Hydrocodone a painkiller known more commonly in the United States as Vicodin, among others. Taken separately and in their correct doses they are all fairly harmless, but together they make for a lethal cocktail. And given that he's only been missing for a few days, the levels in Tony's system are already worryingly high."
The elderly medic let his words hang in the air long enough to cast a concerned glance in Abby's direction, and it took him a few moments to recover enough to continue, with an urgency to his tone . "Jethro, I don't need to stress how desperately important it is that you find him…and soon."
TBC
