Later that evening the squad room was empty, except for DiNozzo, McGee and David. Tony had given what little information they had to the Lieutenant's father. The man seemed grateful for the information, happy to see that his son's murderer was being tracked down, and he thanked DiNozzo for his time and patience. Tony left the meeting feeling pleased that he was able to give the man some measure of comfort, even if he hadn't been able to give him any closure.

They were still a three-person team. Tony felt that their team worked just as well as before McGee joined them, and that they didn't need to bring another new person on just yet. McGee was anxious to have his own probie, and Tony promised him that they would get a new agent as soon as they got used to their new roles. Because McGee was busy tracking the victim's credit card spending, bank records and electronic communications, and Tony was busy in the Director's office with the Admiral, Ziva had spent the afternoon interviewing the victim's friends and co-workers on her own.

Despite his slight unease at sending the volatile Mossad agent to interview by herself, Tony felt she had progressed in her interviewing skills enough that she wouldn't scare potential witnesses off. He was pleased to see that she had learned the difference between interrogation and interview techniques. She still had a habit of thinking the worst of people, but had stopped letting that worldview affect her work.

"Zeevah," he said, leaning back in his chair, crossing his hands behind his head, "what did you find out from Lieutenant Walker's friends and co-workers?"

"Only that he didn't have very many, friends, that is," replied Ziva, turning her chair to face her boss. "Lieutenant Walker was a child of privilege and acted like one. Most of his acquaintances thought he was an arrogant, preening bastard. Not unlike you." She smiled sweetly.

Tony gave her a sarcastic smile. "Very funny, Zeevah," he said. "What else did you find out?"

"The Lieutenant was also a ladies man," Ziva continued. "He had a girlfriend back home and a girlfriend near the base. One assumes that neither one knew about the other."

"Now Ziva," interrupted Tony, "remember, never…"

"Never assume," Ziva finished for him. "I know, but I think this is a case of an angry lover."

Tony shook his head, sadly. "Seriously, you can't just jump to that conclusion. Sure, it's possible and we'll investigate that angle, but you can't just state definitively that a wronged lover murdered Walker."

"It's the most logical conclusion," argued Ziva. "Walker's girlfriend from his hometown is visiting. She's not just his girlfriend, she's his fiancée and she's staying with Admiral Walker and his wife."

Tony sat up. "You couldn't say that earlier in your report?" he asked, annoyed.

Ziva shrugged. "I wanted to see if you would pull a Gibbs Rule on me."

Tony glared at her. "Do we know where the local girlfriend lives?"

"We do," she replied.

"Okay, you pick up the fiancée; McGee, pick up the other one, put them in separate interrogation rooms. We'll see if Officer David's theory is correct."

The two agents left to pick up the suspects. McGee turned to Ziva when the elevator doors closed. "Why are you baiting Tony?" he asked.

Ziva smiled. "It's good to keep him on his toes. He's not Gibbs; he'll get complacent. Plus it's fun to get his sheep."

"Goat, the expression is 'get his goat'. He's under a lot of pressure, Ziva. None of us expected this. Sure, Tony was probably going to succeed Gibbs, but not so suddenly. We're all feeling out our new roles."

"I'm not," replied Ziva. She laughed and smacked McGee lightly on the arm. "Relax McGee, it's like foreplay for Tony. We fight, we flirt, it's fun."

"I don't think he thinks it's fun," muttered McGee, as the elevator doors opened onto the parking garage.

Ziva patted McGee's cheeks. "You really are a good friend, McGee," she said, exiting the elevator and walking to her car, waving at McGee over her shoulder.

Tony entered Abby's lab, carrying a Caff-Pow. "I come bearing gifts," he yelled, trying to make himself heard over the booming music.

Abby accepted the drink and took a sip. "Thanks, Tony," she yelled.

"Abs, can we turn the music down a few decibels? I think my ears are starting to bleed."

Abby turned the music down, grinning at the sight of Tony trying to pop his ears.

"You're getting old, Tony," she teased.

"Yeah, but I still look good."

"Yes, you do," Abby agreed, patting Tony's backside.

"Got anything for me, Abs?"

"Nothing on the substance found on the wound, yet," replied Abby, "but I just found something that will interest you."

"Oh?"

"I tested the blood on the scene, and while the blood type matches the victim's, the DNA does not." She turned to her computer and brought up two DNA charts.

Tony stepped up to the plasma screen. "So, we're looking for either a second victim who left the scene, which isn't likely with the amount of blood we found, or the killer was wounded in the struggle."

"Right," confirmed Abby.

"That's good, Abs." Tony turned to the young woman. "What about the weapon. Have you and Jimmy been able to figure out what was used to kill Walker?"

Abby shook her head. "Not yet, but we've got loads of stuff to go through. Jimmy went to get us something to eat before we continued. Hey, there'll be plenty of food if you want to join us and play 'match the gaping hole'."

Tony grinned. "No thanks, Abs. I like to keep my food separate from the graphic evidence, better for the digestion."

Abby shook her head. "Old and wimpy," she said sadly.

Tony kissed her temple quickly. "You're so good for my ego, Abs," he said.

"You know I love you," she called out to him as he left the lab.

"I know," he called back over his shoulder, "how can you help it?"

Tony ran into Jimmy on the way out and grabbed one of the bags he was carrying. "Thanks Palmer," he said, grinning at the befuddled man as the elevator doors closed.

"Um… you're welcome?"

The team was in the office early the next morning. The mood in the squad room was tense. Both of Lieutenant Walker's girlfriends had airtight alibis. His fiancée, Evelyn Torrance, was from a wealthy Connecticut family. She and Stephan Walker had grown up together. Evelyn knew about the other woman, but felt that it was Walker's way of sowing his wild oats. She knew that he would never marry someone 'beneath his class' and turned a blind eye to the man's infidelity. Tony was very familiar with women like Evelyn, he grew up around them, was expected to marry one of them and produce more children like them.

Rita Kaminsky was a waitress at a restaurant near the base. She was young, pretty and fun-loving. It was easy to see why the young Naval officer had been drawn to her, Rita was the exact opposite of his fiancée, personality-wise. She was devastated at the news of his death, her eyes still red from crying. When Ziva told her Walker's secret it was obvious she had no idea. In an instant Ziva's suspicions of the young woman disappeared and she found herself sympathizing with her. Rita was working a double shift at the restaurant the night Walker was killed, proving that she wasn't the killer.

Now they were back to where they had started. They had a dead lieutenant, no suspects, and no murder weapon. Tony was in an especially foul mood, after coming from a meeting with the Director, who wanted to know why they weren't any closer to the killer. He wanted to know that as well.

"McGee," he said, "did you get any useful information from Walker's phone records or e-mail correspondence?"

"Nothing unusual, that I can see," replied McGee. "He made calls to his fiancée and his girlfriend, some to fast food places. No unusual activity on his bank accounts or credit cards."

"There's got to be something," Tony said irritably. "We need to talk to the friends and co-workers again. Ziva, you're with me. McGee, keep checking for anything."

Ziva bristled. "Are you saying that I didn't do a good job with the interviews?"

"No, I'm saying that a second pair of ears might hear something different," replied Tony, calmly. "That's why you always want two people on an interview, you get two different perspectives."

"Okay, then." Satisfied with his response, Ziva followed him to the elevator.

Tony and Ziva were back at the base where Lieutenant Walker worked as a munitions expert. They were interviewing Lieutenant Patrick Porter, Walker's closest 'friend', as far as Ziva could tell.

"So Lieutenant," Tony said, referring to his notebook, "you told Officer David that you hadn't seen Lieutenant Walker since the day before he was killed."

"That's right," replied Porter. "We worked out at the gym after we got off duty. He had a date and took off around 1830. That's the last I saw of him."

"Do you know who he was going to see?" asked Ziva.

Porter shrugged. "I figured it was Rita, but he could have picked up another chick, knowing him."

"Miss Kaminsky was working that night," Ziva said sharply, "and she told me that she thought he was having a 'guy's night out' with you."

"I don't know where she got that idea," Porter said nervously. "I have to get back to work."

Tony starting walking next to the man, intent on continuing his questioning. "You're limping," he said. "Did you hurt your leg?"

"My hip," replied Porter, "ran into a table and cut it. It's just sore."

"Did you require stitches?" asked Ziva.

"Ten."

"Must have been a sharp table," observed Tony, "or you ran into it pretty hard."

"Yeah, something like that."

"You must have bled quite a bit," Ziva said.

"Some," the lieutenant was getting more nervous with the two agents flanking him.

"Lieutenant Porter, I think you're going to have to come back to headquarters with us," Tony said, taking hold of his arm.

"What? Why?"

"We'll need to get a sample of your DNA. You won't mind giving us one, will you?"

Porter looked like he was about to bolt, but Tony had a firm grip on his arm and Ziva had her hand on her weapon. His shoulders slumped and he went with them reluctantly.

...to be continued