Ziva reported thoroughly to her team about of her extra chat with Tony's father. Namely... How he had remembered Weintraub's unique knife sheath. It was an unexpected break.
Plans were hatched from here.
They first learned the full name of whom Lance Corporal Peters had been seen with. He was one Soren Michael Weintraub. According to the agents' intel, he worked in D.C. proper as a claims adjuster. It sounded bland. He sounded bland. Except for today being his day off.
Now there were just more questions than answers.
How had Weintraub known where Peters was going to be when he had found him? And so soon after coming back stateside from deployment? They hadn't found anything overlapping like health clubs memberships, laundromats, or even doctors. Just how had these men crossed paths in the first place? Weintraub didn't even appear to have any ties to the Navy. It was all very puzzling.
So Gibbs decided to do some looking around at Weintraub's place. He left first. With Tony.
As for McGee, he found himself making the drive to the lance corporal's family home in Silver Spring. He would make the death notification. How terrifically grim.
Ziva had found the shop where Weintraub's knife sheath had been sold from. Her task had proved a tad more daunting. Not only had the sheath been inscribed with a Latin phrase, but the item itself was made of alligator leather. Just one place around sold it. So Ziva headed out.
Ducky and Palmer were occupied by determining Lance Corporal Owens' ultimate cause of death. His apparent blunt force trauma to the head was too vague. So there was nothing to report. Yet.
Tony had become so deep in thought about father that he was very quiet during the car ride. Gibbs let him have some time. But… Then it became too quiet.
"Okay." he told Tony after some time had passed. "Cough it up."
Tony sat up straighter, glad to not be driving. "What is your dad like?"
"Old as Father Time, stubborn like a mule, chooses to move at his own pace. In a nutshell."
"Oh," suddenly seemed all Tony could say—the man had somehow been expecting more.
A ghost of a smile flitted across the other man's face now. "But Jackson Gibbs is kind to everyone. He's even fond of Director Shepard."
"Oh, that's right—you guys went visiting at the holidays." Tony remembered. "Stillwater?"
"Mhm. Dad also runs a general store there. You'd probably like it. He even served in World War Two. Also taught me everything I know about shooting a gun."
Gibbs continued driving for a few minutes before he spoke once more.
"Is this about your old man?"
"Yes." Tony confirmed. "Yours is a war vet and a shopkeeper, and Ziva's runs an elite intelligence agency. Tim's dad is a Navy admiral. Abby's dad? He's an esteemed teacher at a school for deaf kids in New Orleans. I think his district has named him 'administrator of the year' more than once. Palmer's dad is a doctor whose literal job is to fix kids' smiles."
"You're saying Palmer Senior is a plastic surgeon with a specialty in cleft palate repair." Gibbs realized.
"Mhm. I just don't know about Ducky's dad—that is a tough nut to crack."
Gibbs chuckled. "I've tried."
Tony gathered his thoughts again. "Well… Everyone else's dad at least has a job that would not be awkward to discuss at a family reunion. But I just realized I missed the director's dad. Whoops?"
Gibbs continued to be amused. "Have you ever asked her about the man?"
"I have not." Tony confessed.
"Then you can't forget what you didn't know." Gibbs told him. "What does your old man do? For a living?"
"I've long since lost track. Dad is a conman." Tony said. "He just won't admit it unless you lean on him."
Gibbs gave no verbal answer, made a humming sound of comprehension to show he was listening.
"You saw dad. How charming and charismatic he is." Tony sighed for the umpteenth time. "I don't know about you, but 'creative businessman' is not explainable to peers in second grade. Such a title will also lead you to never ask your dad to Career Day again."
"Senior embarrassed you?" Gibbs posited.
"Only because he forgot. Dad never showed up."
Gibbs brought their car into the correct traffic lane. It wouldn't be long until they made it to Soren Weintraub's neighborhood.
He had brought Tony along because he wanted to see his head was. Picking the man's brain was also enlightening. Except for today.
The picture forming was just… sad.
Gibbs took another guess. "You're wondering, since Alison is a baby, how to explain a guy like Senior to a little girl like Ella."
But Tony arched an eyebrow. "Can you read minds?"
"Maybe, maybe not." Gibbs returned with a perfectly straight face. "What happened when Eli came over to your house on Christmas?"
"Alison was Eli's arms almost from the moment she noticed he was there. That baby girl adores her sabba." Tony said proudly. "It didn't take Alison long from Eli's arrival to fall asleep in his arms for a nap."
"Amazing." marveled Gibbs. "What about your eldest?"
Tony brightened ever more. "Ella also adores Eli, but especially because he kept making her laugh."
Gibbs actually did smile. "I like that. Did Eli show Ella how to play dreidel?"
"Mhm." Tony said happily. "Eli also read Ella a story about the first-ever Hanukkah. She ate it all up. Eli dotes on her because he likes indulging her curiosity."
Gibbs now found the street Weintraub lived on and began looking for his house. But it happened quickly. The agent then parked across the way from Weintraub's dwelling. He even went through all the motions of turning off the car and getting ready to exit. But he didn't go anywhere.
"Your present is not your past." Gibbs looked Tony in the eyes. "Do I remember all of your anecdotes about your life while you were growing up? Yes. Yes, I do. But… When your dad was with us today, I did not fail to notice that it looks like he's turned over a new leaf. He's really trying."
Tony remained a dash skeptical. "Are you saying that I should give him a second chance because I've settled down?"
"No. I'm saying to take baby steps, alright? It's really all you can do. But what you think about under your own roof is on you. And your other half."
Gibbs paused for a beat.
"And Tony?"
He looked at him. "Yes?"
Gibbs didn't flinch. "Remember when you asked me why I arrived to The Adams House when I did? I had a reason. And it's good."
Tony tried not to stare openly. Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs was not a man who was known for divulging too much about his off-the-clock life. And everyone was aware. The fact that they'd had this deep of a conversation really meant a lot.
"Might I ask what that reason was?" Tony said said carefully.
"Next week is my dad's birthday. Post office was on my way to work. That's where I was when I got the call about the body." explained Gibbs. "Dad should be getting his parcel on the day of."
"Wow." Tony echoed again. "But… If I repeat any of this to anyone, you'll haunt me when you die?"
Gibbs din't miss a beat. "Oh, yeah. No doubt."
He finally exited the car and closed the door behind him.
Tony hurried after. Back to reality.
Weintraub's house was a quiet grey two-story number in a very cookie-cutter neighborhood. Anyone could have lived there. But an immediate feature of the property was that even the garage and the mailbox matched the house in color. Everything was neat. In order.
But the yard was devoid of toys or the like to suggest a family being around. It was only cold and icy from the winter forecast.
Soren Weintraub's house looked to be the only non-inviting one on the whole of Sadler Street. It felt... foreboding now.
Gibbs withdrew his gun as they approached Weintraub's front door. The day's paper was on the stoop. It hadn't been collected. He could also spot zero signs of Weintraub's car in the driveway.
Gibbs prepped his gun. "It's our friend's day off. His boss told me so. Do you see any car out here?"
"No, boss." Tony had already drawn his own weapon. "I won't even state the obvious about the garage, but did Weintraub's boss happen to mention what kind of car he drove?"
"A black BMW." Gibbs reported.
They continued along. It was just too quiet.
"Does that garage look big enough to hold one?"
Tony spared it a swift glance before he said, "Uh-huh."
"Good." Gibbs approved. "Then Weintraub could still be here."
"I'll go check around b… What?"
Gibbs had almost approved Tony's idea. But his heart instead performed a nasty flip.
Weintraub's windowed front door was ajar. The pane of glass closest to the handle? Smashed in.
The man of the house could be seen just beyond, on the hallway floor. Dead.
Soren Weintraub had been stabbed in his back. With his own weapon.