Disclaimer : I still own nothing.
Author's Note : As always, thank you to everyone reading, favoriting and following this story. Also, a big thanks to Gottahavemyncis, PaisleyGibbs, camry72, Precious Pup, victoriantealady, diana teo, and ytteb for taking the time to review. I appreciate hearing your thoughts on the story.
New NCIS tonight! Fingers crossed we get something a bit better then the premiere.
To everyone wondering if Gibbs feels guilty, he does. Takes him a little while to express it.
That's it from me. Let's get on with it.
-oooooooo-ooooooooo-ooooooooo-
2:48pm - Bullpen - NCIS Headquarters, Washington, DC -
Stepping off the elevator, Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo trudged back to his desk. Mind turning, he debated telling Gibbs about the CD Abby had "borrowed" from the FBI. His focus was redirected by the animated conversation taking place in the bullpen. "...but the cat is white," Ziva stated, sounding frustrated. The emotion in her usually reserved voice surprised him.
"It's funny, okay? A white cat named Midnight is cute. Dude, don't think so hard!" FBI Agent Bruce Wayne countered, one hand on the side of his head. Standing with his back to Gibbs' desk, he did not see the angry look cross over the former Marine's face. Before Tony had a chance to warn him, Gibbs shot to his feet and landed a hard smack on the back of the FBI agent's head. Shock passed over Wayne's face as his hand moved to rub the back of his head. Tony shook his head at Wayne, who glanced to him for direction.
"Somebody tell me something," Gibbs growled, his blue eyes flicking over the three agents who were scattered around the bullpen.
"We talked to Mathews' ex-wife, Mariah Ross," Ziva volunteered. "She was less then helpful. Although, she did confirm Mathews possess some heirlooms from the American Civil War. Also, the way she did not want to speak of her divorce, perhaps this means she fears something."
"Or we pissed her off," Wayne offered, shaking his head. "We really did need her help." Gibbs stared him down, prompting him to continue. "Ziva and I also caught up with the guy who owns the 'Founding Fathers.' The waitress who served Wilkowski on the night of her death confirmed that she was with Hanrahan. She also confirmed the contents of her stomach."
"It seems the petty officer might be responsible for her death after all."
Gibbs turned his attention to the plasma, where a pictures of Hanrahan, Mathews and Wilkowski started back. Shaking his head, his brow furrowed. Eyes fixed on Mathews' picture, he said to himself. "Let's nail the bastard."
Ziva and Wayne headed back to their respective desks, when Tony broke in. "Uh, boss? Abby needs Ziva down in the lab. Something computer-y. I got voted off the island."
After a quick glance between the team leader and Mossad liaison, she slipped away to Abby's lair. Just as Tony started to settle into his desk, Gibbs glanced up from his paperwork. "DiNozzo, Wayne. Don't get comfortable. Go find that ring so we can confirm Hanrahan's story."
Wayne re-entered the bullpen, one hand still rubbing the back of his head where he'd been hit. "Ring? Story?" Confused, he looked to Gibbs and was ignored. He glanced to Tony and as the two left the bullpen, he whispered. "Dude, how hard did he hit me?"
"C'mon Batman, I'll get you caught up in the car."
-oooooooo-ooooooooo-ooooooooo-
3:18pm - Somewhere outside Fort Littleton, PA -
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
As Special Agent Timothy McGee began to wake from breakfast, he was greeted by another pounding head. He opened his eyes, allowing the bright afternoon sunlight to burn his retinas. Letting out a low moan, he slammed his eyelids closed. Remembering the events of the morning, he cringed at his ill-fated jaunt through the forest and the proof of life video he'd recorded. At least, Hanrahan had seen fit to feed him again. Even though it'd meant being drugged a second time.
Had his team gotten the video yet?
Opening his eyes again, he focused on the room around him. No longer in the privacy of the mudroom, he was laying on the ground in a corner of the main living area. A beat-up couch sat on the far wall and a once-white recliner was in front of him. Gathering his bearings, the agent noted his hands were handcuffed behind him and his ankles were now tied together.
While he lay taking in the situation, he felt footsteps on the floor approaching him. Relaxing and evening his breathing, he pretended to still be asleep.
"...over with," Stoakes was ending.
"No way, Michael. If you want out, I'll give you my account number. Take the money," Hanrahan stated, sounding tense.
"Look, Joey. It's not about the ten grand. You kidnapped a fed. You neglected to mention that little fact when you called me for help. He's seen our faces and he can ID us. Let's just get rid of him and call it a wash."
"I don't kill people!" Hanrahan growled and McGee started to feel uneasy.
Letting out a sigh, Stoakes paused for several seconds. McGee hazarded a slid-eyed survey to confirm he wasn't approaching with a gun. Not that it would matter anyway. "I'm going for a smoke. Think it over," Stoakes finally said, his heavy feet thudding out of the room.
McGee felt Hanrahan's lighter footfalls move across the room and heard him sink into the recliner. "I know you're awake," the petty officer said, a few feet away.
Damn. Busted.
Opening his eyes, McGee struggled to pull himself into a sitting position and leaned against the closest wall. He felt sluggish and half-baked. Attempting to quash the anxiety that ran rampant in his stomach, he met Hanrahan's eyes. Guilt passed over the Navyman's face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen. I just - . " he sighed, resigned. "I wasn't lying when I said I'd let you go when they found Leah's killer. I didn't kill her and I just - . I just couldn't let her killer go free." He looked away. "I know I'm going to jail for this and that's okay. I've accepted it."
McGee nodded, not quite sure what to do next. "Yeah. But now what?"
The other man pressed his lips together and his eyes turned thoughtful. "I don't know yet. You're going to have to trust me."
-oooooooo-ooooooooo-ooooooooo-
3:29pm- Forensics Lab - NCIS Headquarters, Washington, DC -
Music pumped through her speakers and Abby Scuito felt herself dancing as she typed. Everything was in order and all her babies were churning away. Leaning over, she pulled a deep swig of her closest CafPow and let out a contented sigh at its smooth, fruity flavor.
"Aha, come to momma," she murmured to herself as she commandeered a satellite from her friends at the FBI. All she needed was five minutes, a quick sweep of Central Pennsylvania and no one would be any the wiser. She wasn't quite sure what she was looking for, but was certain she'd know when she saw it. Plugging in the coordinates she'd cross-referenced, she let the satellite scan and start downloading to her computer.
Somewhere on the other side of the lab, something started beeping and pleading for her attention. As soon as she started to head over, another one of her babies began beeping on her main lab bench. Turning quickly, she collided with a solid body and let out a scream.
"Abby." Ziva elbowed the goth's arm. "You asked me to come. Were you not expecting me?"
"I was and I am," Abby said, talking quickly as she moved across the lab, silencing her machines. "I just didn't know what happened to you. I sent Tony up a while ago and wasn't sure when you were - ."
Holding up a PowBerry CafPow and a paper cup with a tea string hanging out of it, Ziva smiled. "I thought you might need provisions. But I see you are well stocked."
"Put it over there by Major Mass Spec, I'll need it when I'm on that side of the room. Maybe I should tell Gibbs that he should bring me," she stopped, counting on her hands. "five CafPows for every major case. That way I have one in every important part of the lab, so I don't have to walk all the way back to the main lab bench."
Amused, Ziva glided to the main lab bench and placed the drinks down. "I will inform Gibbs. Now what do you need from me?"
Fiddling with the farthest machine, Abby made a few notes on her notebook and moved to the main bench to check her other machine. "Ziva, why are your pants covered in white fur?" She asked absently.
"An inappropriately named cat."
"Oh my gosh. Oh Ziva. Oh Ziva," she grabbed a pair of forceps and an evidence bag from the table. Plucking a few hairs from Ziva's pants and placing it in the bag, she nearly shouted. "There were long, white cat hairs on Leah Wilkowski's pants!"
-oooooooo-ooooooooo-ooooooooo-
3:51pm - Somewhere on 95, heading towards Chevy Chase, MD -
"But it's all circumstantial. It will never stand up in court. Man, this sucks," Wayne said morosely as he settled back in the passenger seat of the Charger. "If we go by evidence, Hanrahan looks like our man. He was the last one to be seen with Wilkowski alive. Plus he abducted McGee. Looks open and shut to me."
Feeling irritated, Tony clenched the steering wheel as he exited the highway. He wasn't sure if it was the construction that had slowed their trip, the stale smell of eggroll that seemed to be imbedded in the car or the slowness of their cases. "But I know it was Mathews."
"What's telling you that, man? Your crystal ball?"
DiNozzo steered the Charger off the main road and through a few back roads before pulling up in front of Joseph Hanrahan's modest rancher. Turning off the engine and climbing out into the cool autumn afternoon air, Tony looked over the car at the tall agent. "If Hanrahan did kill her, why take McGee and then ask us to prove he didn't do it?"
"I don't know, man. Hanrahan looks pretty damn guilty to me though. But if you think Mathews killed her, then let's prove it."
Crossing the lawn in silence, they climbed the stairs to the front door when Tony finally felt the need to break it. "Any word from your boss about McGee?"
Face grim, Wayne shook his head and glanced out at the car. "Fornell told me he'd call as soon as he had something concrete."
Tony checked the door and found it locked behind the caution tape. "No news. No leads." Anger burning inside him, the agent reeled back his leg and landed a solid kick against the door that sent it slamming against the wall.
"Uhh...we could have just gotten a key from Fornell."
Narrowing his eyes at Wayne, DiNozzo limped into the house feeling pain from the kick in his left knee. "It's unlocked now."
"So what exactly are we looking for?" Wayne asked, following Tony through the hallway and into the area of the house with the bedrooms.
"The ring Hanrahan bought for Wilkowski." Still limping slightly, DiNozzo headed into the only part of the house that was neat and orderly. He headed to the corner where the smallest dresser stood and pushed it roughly aside. As Wayne watched, he pulled on a pair of gloves, dropped to his knees and started pushing on the floorboards. One popped up and Tony pulled it out of the floor. Reaching into the hole, he pulled out a small, white leather box.
Flipping open the box, Tony gaped at the sheer size of the ring. "Holy shit," Wayne said, quietly. "That's over two carats." The other agent shot him a questioning glance. "My grandfather was a jeweler. Spent a lot of time in his shop as a kid. But in all honesty, that is an expensive ring."
DiNozzo stood and deposited the ring into an evidence bag. "So what do you think now?"
Shooting him a thumbs up, Wayne grinned. "Good job, Boy Wonder. Maybe that gut of yours is onto something."
