Chapter 12
Pat, pat, pat.
Emma shook her head and wrinkled her nose. Someone was slapping her face. Her eyes opened wide.
"Ah, good, you're awake," he said.
She looked around and saw that Jethro had been moved to a chair as well. She was tied to one of the dining room chairs from the end of the table. It had arms but her hands weren't tied to them. They had been broken off. She looked at him questioningly.
He shrugged. "You've been a pain in my side, like a festering thorn. I took a little of that frustration out on your furniture."
She wriggled in the chair. "I need to go to the bathroom."
He laughed. "Do you think I care if you piss yourself? Go ahead. It'll happen later anyway."
Emma saw Jethro's head move slightly and his fingers wriggle.
"What I want to know is how you survived." He moved closer and pointed at her arm. "That should have killed you."
It was Emma's turn to laugh at him. "We thought you were getting antsy. The day you followed me I was talking to my partner the entire time. The GPS in my phone told them exactly where I was."
His eyes were slits as he listened to her talk. A flick of his wrist and he sliced the skin on her left arm right over her scar. With a hiss of pain, she looked down to make sure it was only a shallow cut.
"The first time you bumped me, she dispatched EMS. They were on their way before I let you spin me out of control."
"You let me? You had no control that day." He was angry but holding it back.
"The only thing I didn't control that day was the place my car went off the road and you cutting me. But even for that I had a back up plan."
"What are you talking about?"
Emma smiled. "The scarf in my hair? It made a very good tourniquet. Saved me until the paramedics got there. You walked away without finishing the job."
His hand moved again. Again another superficial cut. This one on the right arm to mirror the cut on the left.
Jethro rolled his head calling attention to himself. Emma gritted her teeth. She had hoped to keep him out of this.
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"He's a serial killer?" Agent Lee asked.
"Yes, but we'll be right there. Ziva can take him out before he can touch you." Tony assured her.
"Why does that not reassure me?" Lee asked.
Ziva shrugged. "It would me."
Drew was pacing.
"Agent Toscani, a word," Director Shepard called from the stairs.
With a look of impatience, she stopped pacing. Running to the stairs, she jogged to the Director.
"What has you so certain that something is wrong?" Director Shepard asked.
"You called me up here for that? I can't believe this!" Drew turned and walked a few steps away. Facing the Director, she asked, "Have you ever just known something but you can't say how you know? If you have, you won't question me on this because I just know."
Drew met the annoyed gaze of Jenny Shepard and even the raised eyebrows didn't stop her from continuing. "I know something's wrong the same way Emma knew this killer was the one we've been after. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to leave with your agents. I expect I'll find a recommendation for discipline when I get back to Chicago but for now I have a job to do."
Drew walked away without giving the Director a chance to respond. She walked through the shocked agents who had heard every word. In the stairwell she turned to the wall and slapped it before laying her forehead against it. Shaking her head, knowing she could not take back what she just did, she ran down the stairs and was waiting at the car when Tony, Ziva, Michelle and Tim walked out the elevator.
