McGee saw a car stop at the curb and Tony getting out. However, the stop was so short and so sudden, that Tony really should've tucked and rolled on the way out. As it was he was probably lucky to exit with all of his limbs intact before Ziva sped off again.
Tony trotted across the parking lot and opened the driver side door. Draping one arm over the open door and the other on the roof of the car, he bent down and grinned at McGee. "Hey, feeling a bit tied up?"
McGee glared at him. "Didn't Abby tell you to be nice to me when you got here?"
Tony nodded. "She did. But 'nice' is such a subjective term. Who's to say I'm not being nice right now?"
McGee sighed. "Just unlock these," he shook his hands and rattled the short chain. "The keys are on the seat." He nodded to his right and Tony took the hint. In a minute he'd slipped into the same seat Denny had recently occupied and was busy unlocking the handcuffs.
"Are you okay?" Tony asked as McGee rubbed his wrists. "Did he hurt you?"
"I'm fine." McGee looked towards the spot where he'd last seen his brother. He had to fight the urge to run after him, but it had been at least 20 minutes since he left. He wouldn't see Denny's back disappear behind the next corner, he wouldn't find him lurking in an alley or on a fire escape close by. He would be long gone by now.
"How many places in the city do you think serve pecan pie?" he asked glumly.
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Feeling peckish, are we?"
"Never mind," McGee said, "He said he'd been in my apartment, we have to go check it out."
"Okay," Tony agreed.
A few minutes later they stood in McGee's living room. Tony handed McGee a pair of latex gloves and stood back and watched as McGee did a walkthrough of his apartment to see if anything was missing.
McGee looked around his apartment. He could tell that things had been moved around, but it didn't exactly look burglared. The objects in his bookshelf had all been pushed to one side of the shelf, presumably to look behind them, but nothing had fallen to the floor, and nothing was broken. His dresser drawers were closed, but when he opened them the clothes were in disarray. All in all, Denny hadn't made much of a mess.
"As far as I can tell," McGee told Tony after a first survey, "He's gone through my closets and dressers and the bookshelf and the desk drawers. Nothing else."
"Nothing in the kitchen or bathroom?" Tony asked.
McGee shook his head. "Why should he? He told me that he's looking for something he used to have. If he's looking for something that he thinks I've kept from his childhood, it's not very likely to be a toothbrush or a crockpot, is it? He didn't have any kitchenware since he still lived at home, and even if he did, would he really have broken out of prison for a 20-year-old toaster, do you think?"
Tony shrugged. "Guess not. So what was he looking for?"
McGee shook his head helplessly. "I have no idea. He didn't tell me."
They both turned around as they heard the front door open, Tony's hand hovering over his gun. Ziva and Gibbs came in, and Tony's hand relaxed.
"McGee!" Ziva called. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" She put a hand on his arm, rubbing it.
"I'm fine, Ziva," he answered. "What about Denny? Any trace of him?"
Ziva shook her head, "We did not see him."
Gibbs chimed in. "Fornell is bringing in agents to canvas the neighborhood. They are already at it. If he's still close by, we'll find him."
McGee shook his head. "He won't be. He's too smart. What about the woman in Georgetown, Boss?"
"The doctors say she's going to pull through," Gibbs answered. "We're still processing the scene."
"It wasn't Denny," McGee said. "He said he didn't attack the woman in Georgetown, Boss. And I believed him." Seeing the skeptical looks on his teammates' faces he defended himself. "Not that don't think he's capable. But he looked genuinely surprised when I mentioned it."
"Well, maybe it wasn't him. A copycat, maybe?" Tony theorized. "Has there ever been one before?"
"Only one that I've heard of, but he botched up," McGee said, thinking back. "The victim survived and he ended up in jail. That was… um… 14 or 15 years ago."
"Maybe it was just someone who wanted her dead and decided to take advantage of the fact that there is a high profile serial killer on the loose," Ziva said. "It has happened before."
"We'll process the evidence," Gibbs said. "We'll know soon enough. McGee," he crooked his finger and beckoned him closer. "Talk to me about your brother. What did he want? What did you find out?"
McGee sunk down on a chair, resting his elbows on his knees, leaning slightly forward, seemingly deflating. Ziva put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "He said that he was looking for something. Something he used to have."
"What?" Gibbs asked.
McGee shrugged. "I have no idea. We never got that far."
"Well," Gibbs said. "Where is his stuff?"
McGee shrugged again. "I have some, but apparently not the right things. He said he'd gone through my place without finding it, whatever it is. Mom probably has some, but she would have to hide them from Dad. In the attic maybe. We'll have to ask her. Other than that, we gave everything away or threw it away when we moved." He looked up at Gibbs with despair. "Boss, what about Mom and Dad? Did you…?"
"The agents covering your parents' house are preparing to get them into a car as we speak," Gibbs said. "Vance has arranged for a safe house here in D.C."
McGee looked surprised at him. "Oh, a safe house?" He felt so slow. He hadn't even thought of that. "That's good."
"He made contact with you, McGee," Gibbs said firmly. "That's all I needed to know. Ziva and Tony will go find Sarah. We'll have you together and safe in no time."
McGee blinked. "But I told him that Sarah doesn't have any of his stuff."
"And what if he didn't believe you?" Gibbs looked seriously at him.
McGee looked shell-shocked. "Of course. Oh my god, I can't believe I didn't think of that. I'll— I'll go get Sarah now," he said, standing up and walking towards the door. On the inside he was cursing at himself. He was still thinking too much like a brother and not enough as an agent. He couldn't trust a thing Denny had told him! Maybe his team had been right to distrust him all along.
"No," Gibbs said, halting him with a hand around his arm. "Tony and Ziva will do it. You and I are going directly to the safe house."
"No!" McGee exclaimed. "You can't put me in the safe house, Boss. You can't take me off the investigation. I have to stay with you."
"Oh, you will," Gibbs said. "I'm not letting you out of my sight. Trust me, you will not be alone again. But we are going to the safe house to set up. I want to be there to greet your parents. We're leaving in two minutes, I just have to make a call first."
McGee rubbed a hand over his face, feeling tired. "Yeah, okay," he relented. Maybe he could use a little break and let his boss be boss for a little while. Then he suddenly remembered something. "Tony," he said. "Don't tell Sarah why you're picking her up. Just say that I'll explain when she gets there."
Tony looked puzzled. "Why?"
McGee looked uncomfortable. "She doesn't know anything. We never told her about Denny, about what he did, or what happened to him. I don't think she even remembers him. Remember, she was only four years old, and very sick. Her memories from that time are all of the disease. We've… we've been protecting her, we wanted her to have a normal life. So we just… we… we told her he had died."
"You told a sick four-year-old that her brother was dead?" Ziva asked, apparently appalled.
McGee looked down at the floor, and for a moment Ziva thought she saw a look of shame cross over his face. "It was dad's idea." Dad's decision, really. "So that if we accidently mentioned Denny around new people, we wouldn't have to explain where he was and things like that. Mom agreed, because then he would allow her to keep her photo albums intact. After that, I didn't have much choice, I had to agree too. So when Sarah started asking questions we told her he had been in an accident and that she hadn't been to the funeral because she had been too sick to leave the hospital. It was to protect her."
"So, what are you going to tell her now?" Ziva asked.
McGee shrugged dejectedly. "I have no idea."
xxx
McGee was pacing the floor of the safe house. He felt conflicted. He wanted his family to be safe, that was a given, but he wasn't looking forward to seeing any of them. Which was weird, because this was a family matter, so who else should he want to turn to? But Denny was such a sore subject in his family. His father would be angry and annoyed. His mother would be sad but hopeful. And he didn't look forward to telling Sarah the truth. She would be pissed beyond belief.
McGee's phone rang. "Tony? Where are you?" he answered.
"Now, don't freak out on me, McGirlish Scream," Tony said. "Sarah isn't at her apartment. Her roommate says she's on a date, but the good news is that she knows where they went. We're heading for the restaurant now. Don't worry."
McGee pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, okay. Just… Just as fast as you can, okay? We have no idea where Denny is right now."
"Don't worry. I'm handing Ziva the car keys as we speak."
McGee hung up, but kept on rubbing his eyes. It was late at night, he was already exhausted and he knew that this day was far from over.
Gibbs sat on the couch, nursing a coffee, watching his caged tiger work himself into a frenzy. He didn't try to stop him, though. He figured it would be a lost cause to even try. After the talk he had had with Harlan he was a bit apprehensive about meeting with the older generation McGee himself. Stressful times could make you do all sorts of stupid stuff, but neglecting your child was never okay in Gibbs' book. But a lot of time had gone by. Had they owned up to their mistakes? Had they made it right by Tim? Judging by the way Tim was behaving, there was obviously still tension between them, but did it permeate through every aspect of their relationship or was it just about Denny?
McGee turned to him. "What about my parents? Shouldn't they be here soon?"
"They're coming, McGee," Gibbs answered calmly. "I called the agents sitting with them from your apartment and asked them to have your parents gather together Denny's possessions before they left. If what he wants is there, we'll get to it before him."
McGee opened his mouth to protest, Gibbs could see the underlying panic and stopped him. "Denny can't fly. It would've taken him time to get from your place to your parents' house. They were told to clear out with plenty of time to make sure they won't be there if he shows up."
McGee closed his mouth again and nodded. "Thank you."
"They'll be taking his things to Abby," Gibbs said. "You can help her go through them in the morning."
"I could—" McGee said immediately, but Gibbs held up a hand and stopped him.
"No. You're needed here tonight. Why don't you go put the groceries away?"
McGee looked surprised, but went into the kitchen area and started unloading the groceries they had stopped to get on the way, realizing that his boss was trying to distract him.
"And put on a fresh pot of coffee," Gibbs called from the living room. "Your parents will be here soon."
xxx
Tony called 20 minutes later to let them know that they were on their way. "We've got her in the car now. But I should warn you, Probie, she's not happy with you." He looked in the rearview mirror at the surly young woman who sat hunched down in her seat with her arms crossed defiantly across her chest.
McGee sounded exhausted when he answered. "When is she ever?"
He had only just hung up when his parents arrived. Admiral McGee preceded his security detail into the house, striding purposefully and angrily through the door and didn't stop until he was in his son's face. "Tim! What is the meaning of this?"
Tim, to the surprise of Gibbs, didn't back away. "It's a safe house, Dad," he said, calmly but steely. "We have to keep you protected."
"From what?" the admiral questioned. "Dennis? I'm not scared of him."
"It's not just about you," McGee answered. "We know that Denny's looking for some possession from his past. There are only a few places where those could logically be stored, and your place is the most natural place to look. We have highly trained agents surveilling your place, and if Denny does show up, we don't want you in the line of fire."
"We could've gotten a hotel room, then," his father seethed. "There's no reason for you to treat your parents like prisoners, locking us up in here. I can't stay here, out of touch without any communications. I have a job to do, Tim. A really important one."
"Well, so do I, Dad," Tim said coldly. "And for once, my job trumps your job. I can have my director call SECNAV and make it an order, if that makes you more comfortable, but you will stay here until I say it's okay to leave. The world can get by without you for a couple of days."
"What am I supposed to tell people?" the admiral demanded.
Tim was seething with barely restrained anger. Why couldn't his dad just listen to him? "Gee, Dad, I don't know. Either you call your aide and tell him to spread the word that you are in protective custody because your serial killer son just escaped from prison, or you tell him you have the stomach flu. Your choice, Dad. Now, as soon as Sarah gets here—"
"Sarah?" the Admiral exploded. "No! You are not involving your sister in this folly. I absolutely forbid it."
"I'm not involving her, Denny is," Tim said forcefully. "And I'm not exposing her to danger just so you can keep protecting your secrets. It was your decision to lie to her, Dad. Now you have to live with the consequences."
"Stop it, right now." Alice McGee stepped between the combatants. "This is a time to stay together, as a family. A hard concept for some of you to grasp, I know," she looked sourly at her husband, "But you will do it anyway. John, we're going to have to trust Tim on this. This is his job. This is what he is good at. He just wants to keep us safe." She stared her husband down, waiting for him to yield.
Reluctantly the admiral took a step back. "I don't like this."
"We know you don't, dear," Alice said, patting him on the chest before turning to Tim. "Hello, sweetheart," she said, holding out her arms.
"Hi Mom," he said, hugging her. "How are you?"
"I've been better," his mother answered truthfully. "But then again, I've been much worse too. At least we all have our health this time."
Admiral McGee grumbled something under his breath and his wife looked angrily at him. She opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the arrival of her daughter.
They heard Sarah long before they saw her. First the door slammed, then they heard her yell. "Timothy McGee! You have better be ready with the best excuse of your life! I was on date and you had me picked up by cops? Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was? You had better be at death's door to warrant a stunt like this." She stormed into the living room, stomping as much as her fancy high heels would allow her and suddenly stopped cold. "Mom? Dad?" she said uncertainly. "What's going on?"
"Calm down, honey," Alice said, hurrying up to her daughter, enveloping her in a hug. "Tim's boss has decided that we should stay in a safe house for a little while, but it's only a precaution."
"Why? What happened?" Sarah looked at her brother, narrowing her eyes sourly. "What did you do?"
Tim frowned. "I didn't do anything!" he protested.
"Then why is NCIS locking up our family?"
Tim sighed. His sister and his father shared a lot of not so flattering attributes, such as their impatience and quick temper. "Have you been watching the news lately?" he asked.
"Not really," Sarah shrugged. "Why?"
Tim looked at his parents. Just as he had predicted, she hadn't made the connection. She probably didn't even remember that she had once been called Langston. He waited a few moments to see if either of his parents would pick up the thread, but they seemed at loss for words, so finally it was he who answered. "Do you remember Dennis? Our brother?"
"Yeah," Sarah said uncertainly. "A little. So…?"
"Well, sweetie," Alice said. "There's a chance that he might be trying to find us, and Tim just wants to keep us safe."
Sarah looked even more confused and Tim didn't blame her. "Trying to find us…? What— How's that even possible? He's dead!"
Tim cast an accusatory look at his parents. "No, Denny isn't dead," he said. "Dad lied to you. We lied to you."
"He's not— What? Why?!" Sarah looked utterly bewildered and hurt. "What happened to him?"
"Sweetheart," Alice started. "What do you remember?"
Sarah frowned. "I remember being in the hospital and when I came home Denny wasn't there and you were crying all the time and Dad was always angry and Tim said that Denny was gone and would never come home again. And then we moved and everyone stopped talking about him. Now, answer me. What happened to Dennis?"
"He's a serial killer and rapist." McGee said matter-of-factly. "He's been in prison for 22 years, until early yesterday morning, when he escaped."
"Tim…" Alice said disapprovingly.
"It's what he is, Mom, and you know it."
"Yes, but you don't have to say it like that," Alice said. "He's still your brother."
Sarah stood gaping at them, her face pale as a sheet. The Admiral put his arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry about it, peanut. It's better that you didn't know. It gave you a better childhood. Come, sit down. You must have a ton of question."
In the background, McGee could hear Gibbs dismissing Tony and Ziva, probably to Tony's big disappointment. He loved a good drama.
xxx
TBC…
