Gibbs eventually spoke over the chatter. "We need to focus! Abby!"
The woman stood up straighter. "Abigail and I haven't had time to analyze this bullet because we only just found it. However, we should be getting a hit on the necklace that Tulip Wheelwright was wearing."
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Nearby, her scanning machine immediately made noise to indicate that it had indeed received a hit.
Abigail shook her head in wonder. "I will never be over the punctuality of these machines."
"What's the story about the necklace?" Tony asked.
Palmer answered this one. "Doctor Mallard and I found it under the victim's shirt. The item in question is a saint necklace that we suspect to be made of real gold."
"And jewelry like that would have a registry number. What saint is on it?"
Palmer once more found himself explaining the significance of the Saint Valentine medal, as well as their new theory about Tulip Wheelwright striking her head on a rock upon being shot. It was a lot to digest.
"Over here, everyone." said Abigail when they had finished ruminating over this aspect.
They joined her and Abby at the main monitor.
"A hit definitely came up on that necklace." Abigail reported. "Looks important."
"That's because it is." Abby blew up a particular image so they could see it easier on the secondary view-screen. "It turns out that this necklace is registered at a shop in Capitol Hill. Major Mass Spec has also located fingerprints on the piece."
"I will hazard a guess and say that there was a set in addition to Wheelwright's, yes?" asked Ziva.
"Bingo."
Abby now called up a split screen for them to observe. This time, the others were met with an image of an isolated fingerprint on the left, and on the right, a local driver's license.
But the curious thing now was the reaction of the Major Critical Response Team. Each had reacted in surprise.
"What?" Abby pointed to the woman on the screen. "Who is Chelsey Pryor?"
"This woman is prime suspect number one." McGee informed her. "We actually came down here to tell you this."
"And to collect Special Agent Borin." Ziva chimed in.
Gibbs added, "Pryor is our top suspect because she has a past with Wheelwright. Calling it 'colorful' is to put it mildly."
Ziva provided elaboration. "As it happened, Pryor and Wheelwright were in the same regiment at Camp Lejeune, but… Pryor was kicked out."
"For what?" both Abigails asked together.
"Highly unethical conduct. Wheelwright discovered it and blew the whistle on her."
McGee spoke up after checking a piece of information from the screen that hadn't been shared yet. "Boss, this is the place where Pryor works."
"Meaning that she could have seen Tulip Wheelwright at the time of purchase," Gibbs deduced. "Or she could have been the one whole sold the necklace to her."
"If it wasn't given to her as a gift." Abigail mused, in full-on investigative mode. "What if that and maybe one more thing pushed her over the edge?"
Gibbs bobbed his head. "That's exactly what we're thinking. Up for a ride?"
"Yes." Abigail said confidently. "I am so ready to close this case already."
The investigators made a speedy exit.
"Hey." Palmer said suddenly to Ducky. "We told them about our cause of death idea, but we didn't even get to talk about the dirt samples we found."
"Tell me." Abby told her friend. "Please."
So from here, Palmer delivered Abby of the samples they'd collected from and around the body at the crime scene. It pleased her to have a distraction.
There was no way that the outcome of this case wouldn't be sad.
Not even a little bit.
Abigail was having a similar thought process.
All she wanted was to deliver answers to Luna's father in time. Before he died.
Not constantly focusing one this thought also meant not having to wonder about what was to happen when Luna became an orphan.
Any distraction, even field work, was a welcome thing.
But the teams were quick to encounter problems not too far into investigating. Chelsey Pryor's house was empty.
Its contents were also very much on the alarming side.
Baby supplies. All kinds of them.
Warm clothes, blankets. Food. Clothes. Toys. Even a nice travel crib. But a key factor was missing: any actual child. It was also clear that one had lived here at some point, but hadn't been around for some time. What things they were finding were meant for a baby. A small one.
Then McGee found a set of documents detailing Pryor's intentions: child trafficking. Salt was also rubbed in the would when they found prescriptions in Pryor's name. Powerful psychotropics for schizophrenia and insomnia.
The crowning jewel of the disaster came when they found a stalker shrine dedicated to Ensign Wheelwright. It seemed that today's heinous act had been planned out for quite some time. Right down to the very hour in which Wheelwright was to die.
All of it gave Abigail the chills.
In the long run, Abigail posted her team at the house to keep an eye out for their suspect, and to comb her house for further clues. Just in case.
Abigail then traveled with the MCRT to Chelsey Pryor's place of work. A jewelry shop called Gems Galore.
"Hm." Abigail mused as she and Gibbs entered the joint. "I'm not sure what I expected, but it definitely wasn't anything like this."
Her companion just gave an agreeing nod.
The Gems Galore establishment looked like it had been a nice place to look at once. In its prime.
Now… The whole building was old and a touch rundown. It was also only a step two short of being a sleazy pawnshop. Businesses like that usually meant trouble in this line of work.
Abigail rang the bell at the counter when she didn't immediately see an employee. "Hello?"
The manager, who was very much dressed like a used car salesman, came ambling into view. He even took his time. As if there was no rush. Or as if he couldn't tell that the two new people in his shop were far outside of the usual clientele.
"What can I do for you? Pardon me for the delay." the shopkeeper assessed the pair. "I do have quite the ring collection for couples."
Had Abigail's and Gibbs' love lives been anything other than what they were, one of them would have laughed. Probably.
But Abigail cleared her throat. "We're not a couple."
"Correct." her partner said as he showed off his credentials. "I'm Special Agent Gibbs, from NCIS."
Abigail briefly showed her own credentials. "I am Special Agent Borin, from the Coast Guard Investigative Service. We have some questions for you."
The shopkeeper was taken aback. "This is new. How may I assist the Navy and the Coast Guard today?"
"This is about one of your employees—Chelsey Pryor. Have you seen her?"
"Not today." the man answered Abigail. "She was meant to come in for a shift about an hour ago, but she hasn't even called. Chelsey's been so different since..."
Abigail gave a polite cough after the man's thoughts trailed away. "Since what, sir?"
He finished his thoughts. "Ever since her wife and child passed away in a car accident, some months back. It's like something snapped. More than what a person would expect after a horrendous loss."
Abigail didn't have to look at Gibbs just then to already know that his mind was on Shannon and Kelly. As for Gibbs himself… He just wanted to be with Hollis and Cooper.
"Why do you need to see Chelsey, anyway?" the shopkeeper queried.
Gibbs replied, "She's the person of interest in a homicide investigation."
"My God…"
Abigail spoke in a tone of keeping the conversation on track. "We have people posted at her house, but she isn't there. Do you have any idea where we can find her now? It's very important."
The shopkeeper. "Well… there's this hole-in-the-wall bar that one of Chelsey's friends friends runs called The Lucky Bird. She hangs out over there sometimes."
"I've heard of it." Gibbs told him.
"Hey—does this friend of Chelsey have a name?" pressed Abigail.
"Yes, but I don't know it."
"Is there anything else you can think of?"
The shopkeeper shook his head. "No, m'am. I think the only reason I even remembered is because we talked about our favorite watering holes once."
"Alright." Abigail said. "Thanks. You've been helpful."
Hers and Gibbs' departure was on the tail-end of the shopkeeper wishing them good luck. It was more important than ever now that nothing go too haywire.
Luna's future depended on it. So did a promise to a dying man.
But… As they and the rest of the team headed off to this mysterious bar, Abigail's mind was back on a single thought. Quite an un-fun one.
If Chelsey had gone after Tulip out revenge, and had even had plans to auction Luna off the highest bidder, why had she left her to die?
