Chapter 15

Three weeks later...

Tim sighed with discouragement. He was running out of steam again and he was getting far too close to Vance's deadline. He didn't want to lose his job, but he was prepared to in order to keep looking. He'd been walking around Norfolk for days, asking people if they'd seen Tony anytime in the last six months. It was tedious doing it this way, but Tim was willing to forgo a computer if it wasn't helping.

And it wasn't helping.

A few people had recognized Tony from the picture Tim was showing them, but when he got down to the details, it had always been before the end of the operation. It hadn't helped Tim track down where Tony had gone, only where he'd been. It was getting harder to believe he was going to succeed.

He glanced down an alley and saw a man standing there. It wasn't someone he'd seen before. He sighed a little. What were the odds that this would be any different?

Worth a shot.

"Hey, got a minute?" he asked.

The man froze.

"I just have a question, that's all. I'll even pay if it helps," Tim said.

"Ask the question first," the man said.

Tim pulled the picture of Tony out of his pocket and held it out.

"Have you seen this man before? Sometime in the last six months?"

The man shuffled over and looked at the picture. Then, he looked at Tim with squinty eyes.

"Who's asking? You a cop?"

"Kind of. I work for the Navy. So does he. We're partners."

"Navy, huh. Don't look like a Navy haircut."

Tim smiled. "I'm not a sailor. I get seasick."

"Ha. You said you'd pay?"

"If you have something."

"I seen him. About six months ago."

"You did? Where?"

"You pay, first."

Tim pulled a twenty out of his pocket and handed it over. Even if this was nothing, he would lose twenty bucks just for the hope of something.

"What did you see and where?"

"You pay more?"

"If you have something."

The man shrugged and shuffled out of the alley. He started walking down the sidewalk and Tim followed him. After a minute or two, Tim realized that where he was headed now would put them on a direct line to the apartment building. But then, he turned away from the direction that would lead them to the building and started walking toward the river.

Halfway there, he stopped again and turned to Tim.

"Pay again."

"This is where you saw him?"

"This isn't where I was. You pay more."

Tim pulled out another twenty and handed it over.

Without another word, the man kept walking. Tim wasn't sure that this guy wasn't just putting him on and he was really starting to feel tired and his usual dizziness was coming on again, but he pushed it away in the hopes of finding something.

But he needed to know one thing.

"Look, I know you're going to drag this out so you can get as much money out of me as possible, but I really need him to be alive. You're not taking me to where you found his body, right?"

The man glanced at him and finally seemed to soften a bit. Not much but a bit.

"Nah. He was alive."

"Okay."

Tim kept walking and they got right to the river.

"You pay."

Tim handed over another twenty.

"This is where I saw him. Guys chasing after him. He was running. I heard shots and ducked, but they weren't at me. They were at him. They hit him and he went into the water."

"You said you weren't taking me to a body."

"I'm not. He ain't here. Saw him in the water and he was struggling. So I went and helped him out. He was muttering stuff about getting away. He was bleeding but head wounds always do. Look worse than they are. He was dazed and stuff. I helped him to a shelter. Figured he'd ticked off the wrong people and they were cleaning up."

"What shelter?" Tim asked, eagerly.

"I'll show you... for two more of these," he said, waving the bills around.

"When we get there."

The man smiled and nodded. They set off.

"No lightweight, that guy. Lead weight on my shoulders. So he was a cop, huh? He didn't say nothing about that."

"He was undercover."

"Going after someone who might not like that?"

"Yeah."

"So why weren't you with him? If you're partners and all."

Tim tried to suppress the guilty feeling that question brought up in him.

"I was dying in a dumpster," he said bluntly.

"So they wanted both of you?"

"Seems like it."

"Huh. Well, he didn't say nothing to me about it and he didn't say nothing to the doc either. Not while I was there."

"What did he say?"

"I asked if he was doing drugs."

"He wasn't."

"Nah. I didn't find any when I searched his pockets."

Tim raised an eyebrow at him. The man grinned toothily.

"Gotta meet expenses."

"Yeah, right. What did you find and did you keep any of it?"

"I didn't keep none of it. Might've took drugs but not other stuff. No drugs. He had a wallet with a bit of money in it and some paper, but I don't know what was on it. He had a key on a keychain. Had a button in his hand. Wouldn't let go of it for nothing. When I got him here, he fell asleep. Woke up and talked to the doc a bit, but I told him he should get out of town if someone was after him and before the doc called the cops on him since he'd been shot."

"And did he?"

"Guess so. When I came round later, he was gone. And that's the truth."

So Tony had left the clinic pretty quick, but why not go back to NCIS? He obviously hadn't gone back to the apartment. Otherwise, the police would have found him there. Maybe the doctor would know more.

"There it is," the man said, pointing at a homeless shelter. "Forty bucks."

Tim passed it over easily.

"Anything else you can tell me?"

"Nope. Didn't see the guys after him. He wasn't talking much. Don't blame him, really. Probably was a little out of it."

"Yeah. Thanks for all your help."

"You paid for it."

Tim smiled. "It's worth a lot more than I paid you if I can find him after all this time."

"Then, I hope you do. Don't remember the doc's name in there, but he should be there now."

"Okay."

Tim headed straight for the shelter. He'd made one step forward. One man who had seen Tony alive after whatever had happened. It didn't clear up where he was, but it helped. He knew Tony had been pursued by someone. He knew he'd been injured. And now, he might be able to find out more.

He was still tired, but he felt more able to ignore that. He saw the entrance to the clinic on the side and he stepped inside.

"Be right with you!"

The voice startled him because he didn't see anyone.

"Okay," he said uncertainly.

After a few seconds, a man came out, probably a doctor. He was a little past his prime, but he smiled.

"Sorry about that. Usually people who come in here aren't willing to stay and I don't want to lose them. You don't look like my usual clientele," he said. "I'm Dr. Mattson."

"I'm probably not," Tim responded. "Tim McGee. I work for NCIS."

"Navy, huh. What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for a friend of mine who went missing about six months ago. A guy I met out on the street told me he'd brought him here to you injured but that he didn't know where he'd gone after that. I was hoping you could help."

"Six months?" Dr. Mattson repeated. He shook his head. "That's a long time and a lot of people in between."

"I know. Believe me, I know."

"Well, you might as well show me."

Tim pulled out the photo and handed it over. Dr. Mattson took it and looked at it.

"I don't know. Maybe? It's hard to say."

Tim sighed and closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness swept over him, accompanied by a headache. He winced and rubbed his head. He felt a hand on his arm.

"Hey, you all right? You're looking a little pale."

"Yeah. I'm okay."

"Have a seat."

Dr. Mattson directed him to a chair and Tim sat down gratefully.

"Thanks."

"So... can I ask what's wrong with you?"

Tim smiled and opened his eyes after a few seconds.

"Professional curiosity," Dr. Mattson said, smiling.

"Fell off a fire escape a few months ago. Hit my head... and some other things."

"TBI, then."

"Yeah. I was in a coma for a few days. Spent too long recovering."

"So should you be doing all this already? Even after a few months, that's probably pushing it."

"It is. It's okay."

"Is it really?"

Tim smiled again. "It's okay enough."

"Well, why don't you tell me about what I would have seen when your friend came in here? That might jog my memory."

Tim took a deep breath.

"Okay. According to this guy..."

"Wait. Who was the guy?"

"He didn't introduce himself. I'm guessing he was homeless. He made me pay him twenty bucks each time we went a few blocks. He said he saw Tony go into the river and he pulled him out. He also said he rifled through his pockets but that he didn't take anything because Tony didn't have enough that was worth stealing."

Dr. Mattson chuckled a little. "Sounds like Arthur. He hasn't been in here much, but he's a regular at the shelter next door. You said he was the one who brought your friend in?"

"Yeah. He would have been bleeding from a head wound."

Dr. Mattson nodded slowly. "Gunshot?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Two wounds. One on the head and a flesh wound on the arm. Through and through. Not fatal but painful. The head wound would have been fatal if it'd been any deeper. He was really disoriented when he came around."

"You remember," Tim said, eagerly.

"Somewhat. Give me a little time to think it through."

Tim was quiet, ready to wait until doomsday if it helped.

"Yeah... I think I remember. This guy, when he woke up, couldn't really tell me what had happened, but I wasn't sure I believed him. Still, he was injured so I did my best to help him out. I was going to call NPD to report the injury, but when I came back to check on him, he was gone. I thought he might have gone to the shelter so I went over there. They said he'd asked if he could get some clothes...and then, he asked... where the nearest truck stop was."

"The nearest truck stop?"

"Yeah. And you say he's a friend of yours?"

"Yeah."

"He's NCIS, too?"

"Yeah."

"I wonder why he didn't just ask to use the phone and call you. He could have waited until Arthur was gone to say something. I would have let him use it. I wonder why he didn't call for you or someone else at NCIS to come and get him."

"I have no idea."

"Strange."

"The nearest truck stop? You know where it is?"

"Well, I sure don't, but my wife has finally convinced me to get one of these things," Dr. Mattson said and pulled out a smartphone. "Let me pull it up."

He pulled up a map of the area and then pointed.

"There. That's about a mile from here. It's the closest truck stop to this place."

"Thanks. That's one more step forward, even if I don't understand the direction," Tim said.

"I don't, either. I will tell you that he probably wasn't thinking really clearly at the time. I'm not kidding about how serious that graze could have been. So maybe he just knew he had to get going but didn't think about where."

"But that's still six months ago."

"Right. Well, I can't tell you what's best to do, but there's the truck stop. Good luck finding him."

"Thanks."

Tim shook hands and left the clinic. Then, he walked back to his car and debated. Did he have the energy to go to the truck stop? Yes. Yes, he did. Not any farther than that, but he could do that much. He drove over to the truck stop.

Then, he looked with dismay. This place was huge. There were probably twenty semis parked here just right now. What were the odds that he'd find someone who saw Tony six months ago?

He sagged against the car and ran his hands over his head.

It seemed impossible.

But no, he'd found the needle in the haystack today, and if it took another month of talking to truckers before he found another needle, he'd do it. He couldn't stop now.

With that thought, he took a breath and walked into the restaurant attached to the service station. He looked around until he picked out a few of the truckers. Then, he took another breath, pushed away his tiredness and walked over.

"Hi, do you have a minute?"