Gibbs' hand crept back toward the weapon tucked in the waistband of his jeans. "Sheriff," Gibbs greeted calmly, "Something we can do for you?"
"You can slowly put the weapon you're carrying on the table and step away from it," the man directed, eyes lingering on Tony, but avoiding his face.
Gibbs glanced at Tony, trying to get a sense of his reaction to Ben Griffin's appearance; or more accurately, if Rory were reasserting himself. Tony was quiet and still, his green eyes shadowed in his pale face. Seeing little choice for the time being, Gibbs gritted his teeth and did as instructed.
"I've been keeping tabs on you, and I think it's time we had a little talk," Griffin said in a mild conversational tone, in counterpoint to the weapon aimed at them threateningly. "I saw the lights going on and off when I pulled up. What the hell are you two doing in here?" he asked suspiciously.
Gibbs' lips twitched as Tony finally spoke, choosing to play his 'annoy the suspect' card first. "We're admiring the boats," he said, mimicking Griffin's conversational voice, and gesturing at the two sleek motorboats moored in the boathouse.
The other man glared at them. "Somehow I doubt you two are skiing or fishing at night, and in a rain storm, no less. Are you going to give me a straight answer to any of my questions or do I have to take you in?" He asked, reaching for the radio microphone clipped to his vest.
"Questioning? Have we broken some law?" Gibbs asked.
"You're still interfering in my investigation and I want to know why," the sheriff demanded.
Tony glared hotly back at Griffin. "How exactly are we interfering?"
The sheriff's weapon shifted to Tony, but he still avoided looking directly at his face, and he spoke to Gibbs instead, bristling with hostility. "He convinced the town coroner to compare those bones to Rory Donner's dental records."
Gibbs tensed at the escalating threat. Tony seemed frozen in place now, eyes locked on Griffin. The mercurial shifts between calm and aggressive had to be Tony fighting Rory's influence. He stepped closer, letting his arm brush Tony's and hoping the contact would help him stay in control and not goad the sheriff into violence.
"I talked to the staff at the library about you. You were researching the Donner family and me. You also looked into Rory's drowning."
Gibbs saw Tony scowl at that but he said nothing. He could almost hear the protest Tony was certainly thinking, even if he didn't say it aloud. Rory didn't drown.
"At first I thought you were some distant relative," the sheriff continued, giving Tony a sidelong glance, "but that didn't check out. There was always something not quite right about what happened that day, and two strangers in town seem to know something we don't about it. I want to know what that is," Griffin finished emphatically.
"Maybe we should be asking what you know about it," Tony snarled.
Griffin gave them a stunned look. "Excuse me?"
Gibbs nudged Tony, who glanced over. A telltale flash of blue in his eyes alerted him to Rory's presence. "Settle down, both of you." Stop provoking him.
He turned back to meet the sheriff's confused look. "We're not going to answer your questions at gunpoint," Gibbs said. "We're also not going anywhere alone with you."
"What?" The sheriff seemed taken aback at the accusation and show of distrust. "I'm not alone; my deputies are in the car outside, watching the house."
"Not going," Tony parroted. "You won't find the answers that way, anyway," he added in an oddly distant voice.
Gibbs flicked a concerned glance at Tony. Rory seemed to be exerting his influence again. He turned to the sheriff and asked a question of his own. "You came in here, weapon drawn but left back up outside…why?"
"No witnesses? Maybe you don't want anyone to know what we know," Tony declared, his voice taking on an adversarial tone. "I read all about you," he said. "You became Harding's sheriff after Rory's death. Maybe you wanted use the position to be sure no one would ever look any deeper," he accused. He felt anger and betrayal again; Rory was with him, listening closely as they inched closer to the truth.
The sheriff hesitated, and realized he wasn't going to get anywhere if these two fellow law enforcement officers viewed him as a threat. He sighed, lowering his weapon and hoping he wouldn't regret the decision. "I never knew there was a reason to look deeper," he defended. "I became the Sheriff here because of Rory, but not why you think," he began sincerely. "It sounds trite, but I did it to help others; to serve my community, and help crime and accident victims get the closure I never got. Until now. I need to know…," His voice broke and he swiped angrily at his stinging eyes.
Gibbs blinked at the other man's willingness to leave himself vulnerable in a charged situation. Then it hit him.
"She identified him, didn't she?" Gibbs guessed, moving a hand to the small of Tony's back, not certain if he was comforting Tony or Rory.
Griffin nodded, heartbreak washing over his features as he locked eyes with Tony finally. It was agony just looking at him; this slightly older likeness of Rory he would have known had he lived a few more years. "How did you know?" He asked Tony, sounding lost.
Tony crossed his arms and gazed back impassively. "Rory told me."
"Don't jerk me around, not about this!" Griffin shouted.
"I'm not," Tony replied calmly. "Rory was murdered and his body hidden in the mine."
Griffin paled at the assertion that Rory's fate was vastly different from what he'd believed for twenty-five years. "You can't know that…how could you?" He asked in a choked whisper.
"Like I said, he told me."
"You were one of the last people to see him alive that morning, which would make you one of the suspects, you know," Gibbs announced.
Still shocked by Tony's revelation, Griffin shook his head in denial and his eyes welled. "This is impossible. Rory is dead; he couldn't have told you anything. Who would have wanted to kill Rory? He had to have fallen in somehow on accident."
"It wasn't an accident," Gibbs said. He just wasn't getting the vibe of a guilty man, but rather a broken man who'd lost everything and never really got over it. Gibbs knew exactly what that looked and felt like. He exchanged a glance with Tony, who gave a small shrug. "The how we know is going to take a bit of explaining," he said.
"So explain." Griffin blinked away the wetness in his eyes and cast a wary look at Tony. "You said he told you. What exactly does that mean?"
"Exactly what I said," Tony answered. "Since my accident in the mine, I've been communicating with Rory's ghost."
Astonishment spread across Griffin's face. "Are you insane?" He asked, blatantly skeptical. "You don't actually expect me to believe that, do you?"
Tony closed his eyes and Gibbs reached out to steady him as he swayed dizzily. "Oh hell," he murmured, giving a sidelong glance at Griffin. "I'm not sure this is the best time for a séance, Tony."
Tony heard Gibbs' warning, but Rory's need to know overwhelmed and broke over him like a huge ocean wave. He felt a sensation almost like vertigo as Rory surged forward in his mind, stronger than ever before. The compulsion to let Rory take control pushed at him. "I can help…let me," Tony said in Rory's voice, eyes still closed.
Gibbs' stomach knotted as the air in the boathouse seemed to change in an instant. It was electric; Rory's presence was a tangible thing even he could feel now. He'd heard the change in Tony's voice, and Griffin had too if the stiffening in his posture were any indication. Like that moment outside the boathouse, it was a bit younger and a shade higher than Tony's usual tenor. Tony started to open his eyes and somehow he knew what he was going to see when he did.
When he turned them on the sheriff, Tony's eyes were a deep, compelling blue. Unlike the previous times, they didn't change back to green.
Griffin jerked as if a blow landed. Pale and frightened looking, he backed away until stopped by the wall of the boathouse. His weapon slipped from his fingers, making a hollow thump as it struck the wooden boards.
"Rory?" he called in a stunned, shaky voice.
Tony resisted Rory's overpowering presence in his head, trying to maintain his sense of self. He could feel the younger man gazing out of his eyes; felt himself pushed aside. It was too strong to fight, but Gibbs' warm, iron grip on his forearm kept him tethered to reality. He struggled to sort the emotions washing over him. There was a deep and abiding love, and happiness at seeing Ben, conflicting with anger, betrayal, and fear that he might be facing his murderer.
Griffin stepped away from the wall, moving closer to Tony and still shaking his head in denial. Gibbs tensed and stepped forward protectively as Griffin reached toward Tony's face, prepared to stop him if he tried to touch Tony. Griffin aborted the move and pulled his hand back as if afraid to make contact. "Your eyes…they're R-Rory's eyes," he stuttered. "How is this possible?"
Tony listened and looked on benevolently as Gibbs explained. "Tony calls himself a conduit for Rory's spirit," Gibbs explained. "Rory told him they formed a connection in the mine when Tony uncovered his bones. His eyes seem to change when the connection between them is strongest."
"Rory told you he was murdered," Griffin said, unable to look away from the familiar blue eyes. "You really have been in contact with him somehow. There were times over the years I thought I could sense him. I thought it was the grief, and missing him so much," he said, sounding dazed. "If he can communicate with living people, why not before now?" Griffin asked, his face a mask of heartbreak and regret for what had been lost. "It's been so long…"
Gibbs could see in that moment, Griffin believed them.
"What you really want to know is why would he talk to me, and not you, right?" Tony asked, as Rory retreated enough for him to find his own voice again.
"Yes!"
Not Ben echoed through his head. Tony watched Griffin carefully. "Because he doesn't know who killed him, Ben. He was attacked from behind."
"Oh my god!" he blurted, making the connection. A horrified look crossed his features and darkened his hazel eyes. "That's why he never came to me. He believes I did it?" A tear spilled over and ran down his cheek.
Tony's first instinct was to believe Ben was innocent. That he hadn't killed his lover and dumped the body so carelessly. However, he'd had twenty-five years to perfect his game. He was distantly aware of Gibbs' grounding touch on his back as he sunk further into the link. He felt Rory's bitterness at having his life with Ben cruelly taken away and his killer roaming free while he'd been tethered to the mine for decades. That was outweighed by the desire to see Ben vindicated, and know his love and devotion hadn't been misplaced.
Ask him. Tony blinked dazedly as Rory swarmed forward in his mind again. His desperate need for answers was suddenly more intense than ever. Did he do it? He trembled a bit as the question reverberated through him; Rory's need to know the man he loved had not been the one who killed him. Ask him. I'll know…ask him.
"Is Rory talking to him now?" Griffin asked, his face alive with some emotion Gibbs couldn't interpret, until he cast a hopeful, longing glance at Tony. "Will he talk to me?"
"Give him a minute," Gibbs replied, eyeing his weapon on the table and judging how quickly he could get to it. He was leaning toward believing Griffin wasn't their murderer but unwilling to drop his guard while Tony was vulnerable.
The vague and distant expression on Tony's face cleared, but the mesmerizing blue eyes remained.
"Rory?"
Tony shook his head. "No. But he's here," he answered, tapping his temple with one long finger. "And he'll know…"
Griffin frowned in confusion. "Know what?"
"If you're lying. Bottom line…did you kill Rory?"
Gibbs wanted to head slap Tony for blurting out the question out like that, unsure how Griffin would react. Tension flashed through both of them as they waited for his answer.
Griffin didn't react though. He didn't protest, get defensive, or become angry. He met Tony's eyes steadily, staring searchingly into the blue depths as if he could see Rory in them. Maybe he did. "No, I did not," he answered. "I would have died before I hurt you, Rory."
Tony could feel Rory staring out of his eyes, appraising and measuring what he'd seen and heard through their connection. Then Tony was flooded with emotion again; not his own, but it filled every fiber of his being. Elation. Joy and certainty surged through him…this wasn't his killer.
"I believe you, Ben," Tony said in that Rory-voice, smiling lovingly at the other man.
"Thank God," Griffin exhaled loudly in relief, and then gazed back at Tony with a tender, yearning look of his own.
It was an achingly beautiful exchange and Gibbs suppressed a wave of jealousy at Tony turning that blinding, loving smile on someone else, and watching someone other than him return it. He knew this moment wasn't Tony's doing. Rory had his answer about Ben Griffin and it was time he let Tony go.
The spell between the two men was broken when he caught Tony by the shoulders and turned him so they were face to face. "Rory! If you can hear me, back off! You got your answer about Ben but we need Tony's help to finish this. Let him go, now!"
Tony gasped as he felt something twist and release in his head, then he was flooded with warmth inside as Rory retreated to edges of his consciousness again. He sagged, feeling weak and wobbly after the strength and power of this last link with Rory. Gibbs caught him, just as he always did.
"Help me with him," Gibbs asked, gesturing Ben closer in a show of trust.
"I think under the circumstances, you can call me Ben now," he said lightly as he placed himself at Tony's side, opposite Gibbs.
"Ben," Gibbs acknowledged him with a small nod as they each took one of Tony's arms and pulled it across their shoulders, half-carrying him to back to one of the stools by the worktable. Tony sank down on the stool without complaint, breathing heavily and trying to regain his equilibrium.
As Ben pulled his arm away from Tony, something on the older man's wrist caught his eye.
"You okay?" Gibbs asked, resting a proprietary hand on Tony's shoulder and thumb rubbing lightly over the soft skin of his neck.
"Still breathing, right?" Tony quipped, his voice thin and tired.
"Not funny, DiNozzo," Gibbs chided in a rough voice.
"Yeah…I know," Tony sighed, serious again. "Sorry."
He looked up at Ben who stood watching awkwardly, not sure what to do now.
"He really believed me?" Ben asked pleadingly.
"He sure did," Tony confirmed.
"And you two," Ben asked nervously. "What about you?"
Tony and Gibbs shared a meaningful look, and then Gibbs turned back and nodded shortly.
"So is he gone now?" Ben asked, looking anguished again.
"No," Tony answered, scrubbing a hand over his face wearily. "He'll make his presence known again when the time comes. I have a feeling you might even be able to see him next time, now that you're off the suspect list."
"You think so?" Ben smiled hopefully.
"Yep," Tony replied.
"So what's next? I might be informally exonerated, but we have nothing to go on if Rory doesn't know who killed him."
"I wouldn't exactly say we have nothing to go on," Gibbs said, remembering the forensic trace evidence they'd uncovered before Ben interrupted them.
Tony chimed in. "We know how and where he died. It limits the suspect pool quite a bit, and there's a little more than that in the way of evidence, although some of it is circumstantial. Can I see that?" Tony asked, seemingly changing the subject.
Ben's brow furrowed in confusion and he looked down where Tony was pointing. "This?" he asked raising his wrist and giving them a better view of the ID bracelet he wore. At Tony's nod, he reluctantly took it off and handed it over.
"Sorry. I almost never take it off. When Rory and I decided we wanted a lifelong commitment, I bought a pair of these, engraved them with our names, and gave one to him as a gift. My name is on the outside." Ben took the bracelet back from Tony and turned it over so he could see Rory's name on the inside of the curved silver metal.
"Rory's bracelet had his name on the outside and mine on the underside," he explained. "It was sort of our version of engagement rings." Ben paused to put the bracelet back on. "Most folks close to us who knew were quietly accepting, but not everyone. We weren't quite 'out' enough for rings," he said with a melancholy smile. A different time, I guess," he shrugged. "What made you ask?"
Tony wasn't quite ready to tell Ben where he'd found the other half of the set. Or maybe Rory wasn't ready for him to hear it, he wasn't sure which. "I saw picture of Rory wearing one like it." Gibbs raised an eyebrow at the lie, which he ignored.
"Did he tell you…" Ben paused and swallowed heavily. "How did he die?" He asked quietly.
Tony grimaced as images of the attack on Rory flashed through his mind. "Uh, maybe you really don't want to hear the details of that." The last thing he wanted to do was hurt the man any more than he already had been.
"Rory didn't die in the mine," Ben pressed.
"No," Tony admitted reluctantly. "He was already gone when he was dropped in."
"Tell me," Ben said in a hoarse and broken voice. "If I'm going to get closure, I need to know the whole truth about what happened to him."
Tony sighed unhappily and Gibbs circled an arm around his shoulders in silent support.
Tony leaned into Gibbs' solid warmth as he spoke. "He was incapacitated by a blow to the head first, and then cut with a knife. He bled out while his killer stood over him and watched," Tony told him in a monotone.
Ben paled and didn't speak for long seconds. Pain shone out of misty hazel eyes. "I have a feeling you glossed over quite a bit," he said finally, giving Tony a mildly accusing glance. "I just don't understand how anyone could be so twisted, to do that to him. Rory never hurt anyone; never even had a harsh word to say…" Ben's voice trailed off and he shook his head in disbelief. What motive could there possibly have been for such a coldblooded, brutal act?
"Rory doesn't know why either. He wants to be at peace and he can't be as long as his killer goes free. I think when we confront the suspect with what we do know, the why part will become clear."
"What did you mean when you said the suspect pool was limited because of how and where he died?"
"Because he died here in the boathouse; right over there," Tony revealed, gesturing at the spot Rory had shown him in the vision. "If it wasn't you, it had to be someone at the house that morning. There was no one else here at the time."
"Oh my god," Ben breathed. In an instant, he connected the dots. "You think it was Tom, don't you?"
The silence was heavy and telling. Tony finally spoke, telling Ben about finding the twin to Ben's bracelet in Tom's room. He also told him about the jacket that matched the one worn by the person who shot at them in the woods.
"Son of a bitch," Ben gritted out, his face darkening in fury. "When I find him…," he muttered threateningly.
Before Gibbs could realize his intent, Ben turned and stalked out of the boathouse. He moved quickly, stopping only long enough to pick up the service weapon he dropped earlier. Gibbs snatched his own weapon off the table and stepped away from Tony as if to follow. He looked back, torn.
"Go, Jethro," Tony said nodding toward the direction Ben had gone. He grabbed the cane looped over the table edge, and stood. "I'll catch up. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid, and you be careful," he cautioned.
Gibbs gave him that crooked half-smile he loved before turning and sprinting after Ben.
Neither man saw a figure moving stealthily in the deep shadows behind the rack where canoes and kayaks were stored.
Tony looped the backpack over one shoulder and hobbled to the door in time to see Jethro catch up to Ben at the steps in front of the brightly lit inn. Two deputies exited a car nearby and joined them. He watched as they exchanged words and then ascended the steps more calmly. Gibbs must have talked Ben down a bit. He let out a relieved breath; there seemed to be enough back up to control whatever situation evolved inside.
He looked up at the night sky, grateful the rain had let up for now. Just as he started to make his way carefully across the rain-soft ground, a muffled voice called out behind him.
"Leaving so soon?"
He froze. At the same time the vaguely familiar voice spoke, he felt the telltale pressure of a weapon push against his spine.
Gibbs' exasperated comment about trouble following him everywhere came back to him.
Well, crap.