Two hours before, Gibbs walked downstairs into the kitchen to prepare a tray. Director Vance called while he prepared the food.
"She's still pretty banged up." Gibbs informed him. "Her swelling is down a little…no, she's still asleep. Staying with me. Yeah, I insisted..."
"Going stir crazy?" Vance asked.
"No." Gibbs cradled the phone in his ear. "I'm okay. This is new for me."
"Give her my well-wishes, and keep me posted." Vance responded.
A softer side of Agent Gibbs was well hidden. When it came to Suzanne, it became clear. She slept the entire night, not making a sound. Every few hours, he checked. Fred slept on the floor near Suzanne's side, moving whenever he heard a sound. Gibbs stayed awake, reading a book while she slept. Suzanne groaned softly and opened her eyes.
"Good Morning." She whispered.
"Hi. How are you feeling?" Gibbs brushed the stray hairs from her forehead.
"I'm still sore." She groaned, straightening herself in the bed. Gibbs assisted.
"Are you hungry?" Gibbs asked. Suzanne nodded, indicating no.
"Suz, you need to eat something."
"Fine." Suzanne sighed. "Do you have apple sauce?" She whispered.
"Thought you might ask…" Gibbs sat a tray on the bed. "I know you like that, toast and coffee."
"Thank you." Suzanne stirred the apple sauce.
"That's all you're eating?" Suzanne nodded affirmatively. "I can fix some scrambled eggs…"
"I'm fine." Suzanne smiled. Gibbs sat beside her, watching her eat. She noticed his facial expression, his look of concern.
"Listen, honey: thank you for fixing breakfast." Gibbs nodded. "I appreciate it."
"I know you do."
Gibbs heard the front door; someone was turning the knob. He walked downstairs and heard a familiar voice.
"Boss, it's Tim." McGee came by on his way to work, dropping off Suzanne's mail.
"Sorry, Boss." Tim explained. "We were rushing and…"
"That's okay." Gibbs replied. He glanced at the mail. Alumni magazine, clothing magazine, bills and an envelope from Williamsburg: Suzanne's mother.
"How's Suzanne?"
"She's eating breakfast." Gibbs answered. "She's looking somewhat better." His facial expression was of intrigue as he noticed, perhaps, an important clue from the case. The post mark was in Washington; Susan and Ted Echoles lived in Williamsburg.
"Let Suzanne know that her jeep is with the mechanic. Tough little sucker; they think they can restore it." Tim handed Gibbs her car keys.
"She won't drive it anytime soon. Suzanne needs physical therapy…wait: 231—to 200 zip code in two days?" Gibbs mumbled. "Southeastern VA mail is processed either in Norfolk or Richmond. That region begins with 23."
"The person was in town and sent it." Tim concluded. "Wait a second…Suzanne's mother?"
"The fingerprint will tell us…" Gibbs spotted a piece of clear tape on the back. "It's been opened."
"I'm taking this to Abby." Tim took the letter and left the doorstep. "Call if you need anything…"
"Thanks, Tim."
Gibbs closed and locked the door. When he returned upstairs, Suzanne was asleep. Fred jumped beside her. Gibbs sighed, resigned to the fact the golden Labrador will, eventually, sleep in the bed.
"Move over, Fred." The canine complied. Gibbs returned to bed, resumed reading his book.
A few hours passed when his cellphone chimed. Suzanne insisted to at least come downstairs. Independently, not with much speed, she made it downstairs and sat on the couch.
"Yeah, Gibbs."
"Ask Suzanne about a Karmann Ghia." Abby called with interesting news.
Gibbs covered the receiver.
"Karmann Ghia?"
"Mom sent the paperwork?" Suzanne asked, sitting up on the couch. "I'm supposed to pick up the car this weekend."
"Abbs, what about the Karmann Ghia?"
"Suzanne owned three cars, two worth about $30,000 a piece." Abby continued typing away on the computer. "We all know about Myrtle. Her jeep was an original 1988 with only 80k, original motor. She's driven Myrtle since college. The other two sat in the garage. According to her father's will, Suzanne was left the 'Ghia and a Corvair Corsa. Seems that Father and daughter spent time restoring cars. "
"Huh!" Gibbs chuckled, looking at Suzanne with Fred.
"Guess she never mentioned it to you? Suzanne and I are thinking about opening a restoration business."
"Abbs…?" Gibbs growled. "You learned this…how?"
"The typed letter rubbed against the envelope. Mrs. Echoles sent Suzanne deeds to both cars and wrote 'See you next weekend—Love, Mom'—in the letter. The deed was too large to fold so she placed them in an 8x11."
"Did you find out whose fingerprint was on the tape?"
"Yes…" Abby replied.
"Mother?"
"No. Her stepfather." Abby revealed. "Could be a coincidence…"
"Or responsible for the accident." Gibbs finished. "Let me call you back. I need to ask Suzanne something."