Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply, NCIS is owned by other people, no copyright infringement is intended, no money is being made.

A/N: Many thanks go to my beta Rinne, for her patience; ZivaFan and ResearchGeek for their suggestions

Chapter Four

Just as Fornell had predicted, the killer called in to brag about his latest success. The call came through to the NCIS main switchboard, the message was recorded on the after-hours voice mail system.

The recording was crisp and clear, there appeared to be no attempt to disguise the voice. "I've grown bored with the pathetic attempts of the FBI to find me," said the man. "I've decided to let another agency take a crack at me. To do that, I've had to kill a young woman in your jurisdiction. I feel a bit sad about this killing. I have a great deal of respect for our armed forces, but a man's got to do what a man's got to do." There was a low chuckle, then the speaker continued. "Let the games begin, NCIS."

"Arrogant son-of-a-bitch, isn't he?" Ziva said.

Gibbs ignored her comment. "Did Abby get a copy of this message?"

"Yes, she's analyzing it now, but until she gets something to compare it to, I don't know what good it's going to do us."

"It's a start." Gibbs picked up the phone to fill Fornell in on the recent events. McGee, Ziva and Tony just stood around.

"What are you three doing?" barked Gibbs. "Get to work!" The three scrambled back to their desks.

The team was assembled in Abby's lab, while she demonstrated some experimental software she had gotten from a friend. The lab tech had been able to get her hands on the original photo taken by the witness, so Abby was able to work with the source, rather than the file the FBI had sent over.

"This is really cool stuff," she said, her fingers flying quickly over her keyboard. "The software takes an image, a face, and maps it out, no matter what angle you're looking at. Well, at least if you have a partial view of the face, it can't work with the back of the head, that would be silly." She paused, grinning at Gibbs, who just stared at her, the "And?" unspoken, but obvious in his expression.

"Anyway, it plots out points and extrapolates what the entire face would look like. It's not perfect, of course, because no one's face is perfectly symmetrical, but it can put together a reasonable facsimile of the suspect's facial features."

Ziva looked skeptical. "How will this help us?"

"Well, Ziva," replied Abby, smugly, "we have the video tape from the bar the night Petty Officer Elkins was murdered. I've eliminated all the men who don't fit the general description, and mapped the facial features of all the men who did."

"Did you come up with anything?" asked Gibbs.

"I did, oh Illustrious Leader," she replied. "There were plenty of men with that general description. Petty Officer Elkins talked to two of them, and one," she typed in some quick commands, bringing up a still frame, "comes up as an 80 percent match." She turned and curtsied to the group. Tony applauded softly, causing the young woman to smile and direct a curtsy at him.

"Did any of the others she didn't talk to match the photo?" McGee asked.

"No one else matched any higher than 20 percent, Timmy."

"How are we going to find out who a single stranger is?" asked Ziva.

"Legwork, Officer David," replied Gibbs. "We take the mock-up of the face and show it around to everyone at that bar and the hotel. Good work, Abs."

Abby preened. "Thank you!" she said, sticking her tongue out at Ziva, who replied in kind.

The team went back to the squad room. "How're you doing on the Turner case, DiNozzo?"

"We're making progress, Boss," Tony reported. "It turns out Petty Officer Turner's 4-year-old daughter saw the killer. She wasn't exactly able to give a description, but she did see a tattoo of a snake on the perp's forearm."

"A little girl saw the murder?" Gibbs' asked, frowning.

Tony replied, "I don't think she saw the actual murder, Boss. But she did see a man, and she saw him take her mother out to his car."

"Did you get the color of the car? The size?"

Tony grinned. "I got better than that. It turns out Hannah, that's her name, sweet kid, cute little button nose... anyway, it turns out she knows that particular car. Her father took her to a car show and they picked one out. It was a black Grand Cherokee. Don't have a year, though. The victim's sister said the victim went out drinking with someone from work the night before. McGee and I are going to ask around, see who she went drinking with, maybe find someone with a snake tattooed on their arm."

"Well, what are you two still doing here?"

Tony and McGee scrambled to gather their things. "On our way out now, Boss."

"Good work," Gibbs said to both men. They smiled proudly at each other and headed toward the elevator.

Gibbs rose, taking his gun out of the desk drawer, he checked it and then snapped it into his holster. "Come on, Officer David," he said. "We're going hunting."

Petty Officer Turner's co-workers were not exactly cooperative when Tony and McGee started asking questions about the victim's work relations. Everyone seemed to be either extremely busy or extremely clueless. Even Tony's charm wasn't working on the women, who engaged in flirtatious repartee, but become ice princesses when the talk came around to the late Petty Officer.

"Something's hinky," said McGee, after three hours of going around in circles with potential witnesses."

"You got that right, Probie," Tony said thoughtfully. "It's almost as if they've closed ranks."

"But why?"

"I guess that's for us to find out, isn't it?" Tony grinned at the younger man and headed out of the building, waving jauntily to the security guard on his way out.

The two drove back to the petty officer's home, hoping to be able to speak to Melinda Rogers again. They were surprised when Lieutenant Walter Turner answered the door. The lieutenant had not been due back from Iraq for three more days, but he had managed to catch a flight on a returning cargo plane, choosing to travel in the bumpy cargo area rather than wait for a regular flight back home.

The two agents followed the lieutenant into the living room. "We're very sorry for your loss, Lieutenant," Tony said. "We're doing everything in our power to find the man who killed your wife."

"Do you have any leads at all?" the young man asked.

"We're following up on some leads," McGee replied, "but we need to ask you and your sister-in-law some questions about your wife's work environment."

Walter Turner looked haggard, he sported a day's growth of beard and his eyes were bloodshot. "I don't know what I can tell you. Wendy didn't talk much about her job. I know she didn't like it, but you take the assignments you're given, you know?"

"Did she mention having any problems with co-workers?" Tony asked.

The lieutenant thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I really can't remember. I'm sorry, I'm jet-lagged and more than a little stressed-out. I can't think straight. I spent all night holding my little girl while she cried in her sleep."

"I am so sorry, Lieutenant," Tony said sincerely. "I met Hannah, she's a sweet little girl. She may have seen the killer."

"What?" Turner exclaimed in alarm. "She saw the monster?"

Tony tried to calm the man. "She said he didn't see her, and I believe she's right. She wouldn't have been left alive if the killer had seen her. Hannah mentioned that the man had a tattoo of a snake on his arm. Can you think of anyone among your friends or acquaintances who might have something like that?"

Turner ran his hands through his hair. "No, I can't think of anyone who has a tattoo of a snake. Anchors, yes; Mother, hell yes; but no snakes."

"Is your sister-in-law here?" asked McGee.

"She's in the kitchen, she and Hannah are making lunch."

Turner led the two agents into the kitchen. Hannah was wearing an oversized towel tied around her waist. She broke out into a huge smile when she saw Tony.

"Hi," she said brightly. "We're making lunch, do you want some?"

Tony smiled at the little girl. "That's very sweet, Hannah, thank you, but I think I'm still full from that delicious tea we had."

The little girl giggled. "That was yesterday!"

"You're right," agreed Tony, "but the tea and the cookies were so good I haven't been hungry since."

"Silly," Hannah giggled.

"Mel," Turner said, "the agents have some more questions for you."

"Did you find the man with the snake?" Hannah asked.

"Why didn't you tell me about the man, baby?" asked her father.

She blinked her large green eyes at him a few times and whispered, "I don't know." Her eyes started to fill with tears.

"Oh honey," Turner rushed to her and picked her up. "It's okay. I just wanted to make sure you weren't frightened. I need you to tell me everything, okay?" Hannah nodded and put her head on her father's shoulder.

"Miss Rogers," Tony said, "did your sister talk to you about her job?"

Melinda shook her head. "No, not that much. She said she didn't really fit in with her co-workers, they had 'differences of opinion', but she never talked about any serious problems."

"Do you know what those differences were about?"

"No," she said apologetically, "I'm sorry, I don't. Wendy wasn't a complainer. She'd mention problems, but she wouldn't dwell or whine about them."

"But she did go out for a drink with someone from work, right?"

Melinda looked startled. "Now that I think of it, I don't know if she actually said that, I just assumed it. I had forgotten about the strained relations at work. Oh my god, I told you the wrong thing! I wasted a whole day of your time."

Tony patted her arm comfortingly. "No you didn't, we needed to talk to her co-workers anyway. They're definitely a close-mouthed group. We just have more than one direction to go in now." He handed her a tissue. "Do you know of anyone with a snake tattoo on their forearm? Anyone who she might have come in contact with, like a repairman?"

"Not that I know of," replied Melinda, sniffling. "I don't think she's had any repairs done lately, she was always pretty handy. Such a tomboy." The young woman smiled at the memory.

Tony closed his notebook. "Thank you for your time. We'll let you know what we come up with." Smiling at the little girl, he said, "It was good to see you again, Hannah." She gave him a shy smile in return.

"We can show ourselves out, enjoy your lunch." Tony shook the lieutenant's hand and tweaked Hannah's nose, who giggled and hid her face in her father's shoulder. "Good afternoon, Miss Rogers." He nodded toward the young woman, who smiled and said, "Good bye," faintly.

In the car, McGee said, "She did waste a day of our time, Tony."

"Well, yeah," Tony agreed, "but it was an honest mistake and she was still reeling from the death of her sister. No point in beating her up about it."

"Yeah, you're right. I guess this means we have a lot more ground to cover."

Tony nodded. "Yup. I still want to know what the deal is with her co-workers. I'm not writing any of them off as suspects yet." McGee nodded in agreement.

"You've got Hannah wrapped around your little finger, or maybe it's the other way around," McGee said nonchalantly.

"Maybe it's a little of both, Probie." Tony grinned at the other man.

McGee chuckled and shook his head. "You and the ladies," he muttered under his breath.

To be continued…