It was 2:30 in the morning when the sedan pulled up outside a modest suburban home in a small West Virginian town. Gibbs looked from the driver's side window at the front window lit by a flickering blue light.
"Looks like someone's still up, Boss." McGee leaned forward to see out the windshield.
Gibbs turned slowly back to him. "Ya think?"
"I'm just saying, obviously we wouldn't have to wake anyone—"
"I don't care if I wake the whole damn neighborhood! Let's go get this scumbag." He climbed out of the car leaving McGee and Sinclair, who'd been sitting silently in the rear, to catch up.
Gibbs and McGee quietly crossed the wide lawn, their hands on their weapons. Walter pulled out his own weapon and followed stealthily behind the pair, alert for anything out of the ordinary.
When they reached the porch, Gibbs motioned for the other two men to take up flanking positions on either side of the door. Then he knocked and called out loudly, "Taylor Briggs! NCIS! Open up!"
The agents could hear noise from inside the house and Gibbs jerked his head toward Sinclair. "Check out the rear. Yell if you need backup," he said quietly.
Sinclair slipped off the porch and disappeared around the corner of the house just as the door swung wide. At first there was no one visible, but a young feminine voice called out, "Bobby? Bobby Watson? I swear if you're playing games with me again I'm gonna call the Sheriff this time!"
Gibbs closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "This is NCIS, My name is Special Agent Gibbs and I'm looking for a Taylor Briggs. Now!"
Now the young woman sounded angry. "Dammit, Bobby, this ain't funny. Do you have any idea what time it is?" The porch light suddenly flicked on, momentarily blinding the agents.
Gibbs blinked and when he could see again, there stood a young dark-haired girl with wide shocked dark eyes, who couldn't be more than sixteen. She was wearing a skimpy top that barely covered her and stopped well before her pierced navel. The bottom half was no better. She wore a pair of tiny shorts with the waistband rolled down for some inexplicable reason, exposing even more of her. She was flanked by two blondes dressed almost identically, also with pierced navels, though the older one had a pierced eyebrow as well.
"Who the hell are you?" she asked, stunned.
"Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, NCIS," he said holding up his badge for her inspection. "I'm looking for Taylor Briggs. Is he here?" Gibbs knew by now Taylor had likely made good an escape and they'd be lucky to catch up with the man.
"I'm Taylor," said the brunette in a frightened southern drawl.
Gibbs stared and it was all he could do not to throw his hands up in the air. According to the gun registry Taylor Briggs was a man. How in the hell had this gotten so screwed up?
The blonde with the pierced eyebrow took a step forward. "Like, Dude, what's the deal?" She looked around and spied McGee as he stepped away from his position at the side of the door. "Hey, you're cute!"
"Enough!" Gibbs glared at the young women for a minute, as Walter rejoined them on the porch. "How old are you?" Gibbs finally snapped out.
Walter holstered his weapon, his soft comment just reaching Gibbs ears. "I dare say, not old enough for our purposes." The older man turned and shot him a sharp look.
"I'm twenty-one," answered Taylor. The youngest of the three had yet to speak and she looked near tears. Miss Pierced Eyebrow stood back with an enigmatic smile on her face, as if waiting to see what he would do next.
"Let me see your ID," he barked out and Taylor flinched slightly.
"My wallet got stolen. All I got is my replacement driver's license. Everything else is gone." She paused as she was turning away from the door. "Let me see your ID, again, mister."
Gibbs gave a half smile. At least she wasn't completely foolish. He held out his ID card for her to examine, then flipped the case around to show the badge. "Your turn."
Taylor nodded and motioned them in while the blonde with the pierced eyebrow looked them over critically. "Think it's really safe to let them in, Tay?"
The brunette looked over her shoulder and gave half a shrug. "S'pose so. If they were going to rape us or kill us, Missy, they'd have made their move by now. 'Sides, it was getting cold standing by the door."
They followed the women into the house, Taylor flicking on lights as they went. When they reached the living room, Missy picked up a remote control and thumbed off the television while kicking sleeping bags out of the way. She turned to the men. "Have a seat. It's not much, but it's all we've got."
The room was clean and moderately well kept. It was clear that someone made an effort to take care of the house. Gibbs seated himself on the sofa, McGee beside him and Sinclair took a seat in a nearby chair.
Taylor returned with her ID and handed it to Gibbs. While he examined the license, the young woman explained, "Missy's my cousin. She's nineteen and spends a lot of time here, helping me take care of the place. Heather," she nodded to the other blonde, "is my little sister. She's sixteen."
Gibbs handed back Taylor's license. "So this is your place, then, Miss Briggs?"
She shook her head. "My folks house. But Mama's dead. And Daddy's probably gettin' drunk or sleepin' it off somewhere." She shrugged, as if this were a common occurrence for her. And, Gibbs sadly reflected, it probably was.
"Miss Briggs," Gibbs said calmly, "I need to ask you some questions. You said your wallet was stolen? Do you remember when that was?"
Taylor pursed her lips for a moment. "Well, it was when we took Heather to get her belly button pierced. See, they don't do that at the mall, you have to go to this—"
Gibbs held up his hand in an attempt to stem her torrent of irrelevancy. "Just… tell me when that was."
"Good thing DiNozzo isn't here," McGee muttered as he scribbled in his notebook.
"Ladies man, is he?" Sinclair said softly.
"The young ones are his favorites." McGee shook his head.
Gibbs glared at the pair.
"Sorry, Boss. You were saying?" McGee looked up, pen poised over his notepad.
Gibbs turned his attention back to the young woman.
"Like I said, we went to the mall. To do some shopping afterward, you know, get some new cute new tops for Heather to show off her belly ring. Anyway, somebody stole my wallet right outta my handbag when we were at the food court."
"And this was…?" Gibbs found dealing with the younger generation frustrating. They could ramble on about the most unimportant things while remaining completely uncommunicative when it came to critical information. He hated having to drag information out of people.
"Oh, um, I dunno, like three weeks ago, right? Isn't that right, Heather?" Taylor turned to the blonde who hadn't said a word at all. The girl merely nodded her head.
"And both your driver's license and social security card in your wallet?" Gibbs had no idea what he'd get for an answer on this one.
"Well yeah, sure my license was. My social security card? Yeah, I guess it must have been." She had begun twirling a section of hair around a finger while she thought about her answer. "Gosh. I guess I should get that replaced, too, huh? Didn't even think about that. I suppose I should thank you guys for reminding me." She smiled brightly at them.
Gibbs tried hard not to clench his teeth. "Do you happen to remember anyone unusual hanging around while you were at the mall? Anyone taking a particular interest in your conversation?" He somehow knew what the answer to this one was going to be, but he had to ask it anyway.
Taylor looked to Missy and both girls shook their heads. "Nah, there were a lot of people in the food court. I don't think there was anyone special paying attention to us."
Missy agreed. "There weren't any cute guys around that day, so, like, there really wasn't anyone watching us or anything."
Gibbs shook his head slightly. "Right. Did you file a police report?"
"Police report?" Taylor blinked and stared back at him.
"Yes, when your wallet was stolen. Did you report it to the police and file a report?" Gibbs was beginning to wish DiNozzo were here. He'd have gladly interviewed these girls and managed to get all this information from them, probably in half the time.
"Oh, yeah. Police report. I think I got one of those. Somewhere. Wonder what I did with that?" She stood up, moved to a secretary desk located in the corner of the room and began rummaging around through various papers.
Finally, from the bottom of a stack of pages, Taylor pulled up a wrinkled document. "Here. Dang. Can't believe I kept it. You can have it if you want it."
McGee spoke up as Gibbs looked over the report. "Actually, miss, you need to hold on to that. We only need to get some information from it."
Once Gibbs had scanned it and noted the date, report number and the reporting officer's name, badge number and precinct he handed it back to the young woman.
"Just one further question. Have you ever purchased or attempted to purchase a handgun, Miss Briggs?" Gibbs was certain she was a victim in all of this. Identity theft was common and it seemed that was what happened here.
"A gun? That's what this is about? Wow. I don't need to buy a gun, Mister Sir Agent Whatever-Your-Name-Was. Daddy's got about a dozen of them. And he's not real careful about locking them up." She shook her head. "That's how Mama died. Now I know more about gun safety than Daddy ever did. I had Uncle Pete show me everything. I make sure they're all locked up. Even when Daddy's too drunk to."
All three agents looked at each other for a beat. "Taylor, do you know all the guns in your father's collection?" Walter asked quietly. "Is there any chance one could be registered in your name?"
"My name? Why would Daddy do that? I know every gun in that safe, though." She looked from man to man. "Why?"
"Would you know if one was missing?" McGee asked.
"Absolutely. But there isn't." For the first time that night she began to look nervous.
"Are you certain? Can you check for us right now?" Gibbs asked her with quiet urgency.
She looked to Heather. "I don't like to open the gun safe with anyone younger than me in the house."
Missy spoke up, completely serious for the first time that night. "It's all right, Tay. I'll keep Heather with me. I think this is important."
Taylor stood slowly. "What kind of gun you looking for?"
McGee flipped through his notes. "A Ruger. A—"
She stopped and shook her head. "Nope. Daddy don't own a single Ruger. Sorry."
Gibbs sighed. "Thank you, anyway, for your help, Miss Briggs." He stood and fished out his card. "If you ever need anything at all, you call me." Turning, he nodded to McGee and Sinclair.
Taylor looked at the card as the agents were walking to the door and asked quietly, "What was this all about? Really?"
Gibbs started to tell her it was nothing, but her dark eyes were serious as they studied him. "Someone using your identity bought a handgun."
"That can't be all there is to it," she said, her eyes never leaving his.
"Tay, honey, let it go," Missy urged, as she followed them.
"No, it's not," Gibbs agreed.
"Do I want to know, Agent Gibbs?" Her voice was quiet and steady, she seemed prepared to hear the worst.
"No."