Chapter Eight
Both Ziva and Tony tensed and froze. Tony found he was eyeing the guy's Adam's apple and quickly averted his eyes so he was looking at their suspect head-on. The senior field agent chose his words carefully, but when he opened his mouth, Nixon chuckled and shook his head. He crowed, "You should have seen your faces! You two looked at me like I was serious."
That's 'cause you were, Tony thought. He had a sneaking suspicion that the hazel-eyed blond was faking making fun of the situation. If anything, he was using their reactions to confirm what he guessed. DiNozzo had to hand it to him: the man sure could act. Tony shoved his concerns away and refocused on the task at hand. "As we said before, we're going to have to take you with us."
"Sure," Chris said with a shrug. "You know that evidence there is circumstantial, right?"
He shut up when both agents gave him withering glares. If Ziva had her knife on her, she would have pressed it up against his throat and enjoyed the fear in his eyes. As it was, she said, "Why don't you let us do our job," as she and DiNozzo ushered Chris out to the waiting Charger.
...
The team's two Shifters watched Nixon on the other side of the mirror from Observation, waiting for Gibbs to question him.
Nixon jumped as the interrogation room door opened and the silver-haired fox strode in, carrying a case file in one hand. He tossed it onto the table, following it with his body as he sat down in the chair facing their suspect. Chris fidgeted as the former Marine opened the file and drew out some crime scene photos, as well as one of the petty officer lying on one of Ducky's cold steel tables in the morgue.
"Petty Officer Phoebe Madison. You knew her well?"
He looked startled at the question, but answered, "Well, yeah. We were good friends."
"Do you have any idea who would want her dead?"
Chris shrugged. "She dealt cocaine and told me she took out a rival encroaching on her turf. Maybe it was another dealer."
"Maybe, but I don't think so. You were the last person she had contact with right before she was killed."
"Not counting your agents," Nixon muttered under his breath.
Gibbs heard him, apparently, ignored the jab, and slid the photos in front of the twenty-one-year-old's face. Ziva noticed with some satisfaction that he flinched and averted his gaze.
Tony whispered, "Bet you ten bucks he's gonna lawyer up."
"Five more says he's gonna do it in five seconds."
"I want my lawyer," Chris said five seconds later.
Tony sighed and handed the fifteen dollars over to a smirking Ziva as Gibbs told the man sitting across from him, "You have something to hide?"
When Nixon stared mutely ahead, Gibbs went on, "In my experience, innocent people don't need a lawyer. But if you want one"—he shrugged—"go ahead. I'm not stopping you. Besides, we're not interrogating you."
"Yeah, right," Ziva muttered as Tony snorted and said, "Since when is Gibbs doing the good cop, bad cop routine?"
"Oh, I guess that makes you the bad cop?" Ziva asked, hating herself when she felt her beast suddenly calling to his. She wanted to shift into her other form so bad, but knew she couldn't do it here in Observation or even in the building. The same went for making out. Geez, where were these thoughts coming from? And it wasn't even lunchtime yet!
The Israeli became aware of a beeping noise coming from Tony's cell, informing him that he had a new text message. He flipped it open to read it, and with her keen vision, Ziva was able to do the same over his shoulder. It read: Need 2 C U. Jeanne. Immediately Tony snapped his phone shut. Ziva was pretty sure she knew what all that was about last night. Jeanne wanted confirmation that Tony couldn't become a wolf at will—or that he could.
Last night, before he'd shifted with a smooth, powerful ripple into a wolf, Ziva had noticed an ink on his left shoulder. According to tradition, when a Shifter male found his mate, he had her name inked onto his shoulder in the ancient language of the pack. If she rejected him, he still had to bear the name of his first choice and go it alone. For some reason, Ziva hoped she was his choice instead of Jeanne.
The door to observation opened, and both Abby and Tim stuck their heads in. Abby asked, "Where is Gibbs?"
"In Interrogation," Tony replied. "Why?"
"We ran ballistics and the fingerprints on the Glock and knife you guys brought in. They were the murder weapons, but the prints didn't match Nixon. Someone else killed our drug dealer."
"There's more," McGee added. "We received a call from the Rangers at Rock Creek Park. They found another body."
Ziva said, "Yeah. So?"
"So," McGee said, "the MO was the same as the one for Petty Officer Madison. And it's fresh."
The two Shifters exchanged a glance before Tony said both their thoughts out loud, "He didn't do it."
"You wanna be the one who tells Gibbs?" Ziva asked him. "'Cause I'm not."
All three of them looked at McGee, who paled. "No! I am not—"
"Sorry, but I'm pulling rank," Tony said, "and the girls here don't want to risk the wrath of Gibbs." Even though Ziva in wolf form could easily rip out his throat—and neither of them wanted that to happen.
Sensing resistance was futile, Tim sighed and hung his head in defeat before heading out. Seconds later, the interrogation room door opened and Elf Lord's head poked inside. He told Gibbs that they needed to tell him something and the ex-Marine, looking irritable, followed McGee back into Observation.
"This better be good," he growled. "You're breaking Rule Twenty-Two."
Ziva mentally translated that into "Never, ever interrupt Gibbs in Interrogation."
Tony apologized, "Look, we're sorry, but Abby and McGee found something important."
"Gibbs, he didn't kill our petty officer," said Abby. "Rock Creek Park Rangers just found a fresh body. The MO matched, and the fingerprints on the knife and Glock don't match Chris."
Gibbs nodded and started walking out. "I knew that," he called over his shoulder before leaving.
The other four spoke in unison: "Oh."
