Almost two months had passed since Dearing's attack on NCIS, and things were still in shambles. Parts of the building were still being rebuilt and there was still a fair amount of debris to contend with.
It had been rough, especially initially. Abby had been waking Jethro up very regularly at like 0300 ever since because of nightmares. McGee, Palmer, and DiNozzo - although shaken - were handling things well. Vance was crabby. As for Jethro himself, Shannon had been a rock, helping Jethro deal with everything. Then there was little Paisley. His granddaughter had a knack for completely turning his day around for the better.
With everything going on, he took a couple of days off around Shannon's birthday and the pair headed down to Baja, taking a bit of a break and just focusing on themselves. Father's Day weekend, they spent Friday night and Saturday in Stillwater, spending the Sunday with Shannon's father.
The extremely good news in all of this was that Ducky's condition was much improved and the man was now well enough to pay Jethro a short visit.
He smiled as Ducky got out of his cab and walked up, using the cane that he had been forced to get. "Still cleaning up."
Ducky glanced around the Navy Yard, seeing some of the damage done for himself for the very first time. "I cannot imagine the chaos that this must have caused."
"Welcome back, Duck!" he said. "How you feel?"
"Well," the other man said, "I count calories like a ballet dancer. I 'Sweat to the Oldies' three times a week. And where I once kept pace with the hare, I am now envious of the tortoise. That is how I feel."
He grinned at the man. "Yeah, well, you're alive."
"Perhaps when I get back to work," Ducky replied.
"Well, welcome back, but not just yet." He gave Ducky a look. "Doctor's orders."
"So I have been told," the man commented. "I suppose congratulations are in order on the elimination of the man who was responsible for all this."
"Looks like he took his own life," he replied. Jethro was still struggling to really accept that Harper Dearing was dead.
"There is some doubt?" Ducky inquired.
He gave his long-time friend a rather pointed look.
"I see," Ducky commented, giving Jethro a warm smile. "So, this invitation to tea isn't strictly a social one then?"
He leaned into his friend and spoke into his ear. "You think your doctor would mind you giving some advice?"
"Only if I tell him," Ducky replied cheekily.
Heading up to the squad room with his long-time friend, Jethro immediately noted that Joann Dearing, Harper's sister-in-law, was already in the squad room waiting for him. Leaving Ducky to catch up with the others, Jethro escorted Joann to the conference room so that they could talk.
He sat down in the chair closest to the door, "Been trying to reach you, Joann."
"I've been travelling," the blonde explained. "London, mostly. Berlin. Hong Kong. I'm a personal assistant. Just took a job after many years."
Jethro nodded, no stranger to having to travel for work.
"Why are you still investigating?" she inquired.
"Oh," he said, "I'm just tying up loose ends." He glanced from the file and back to her, smiling. "No one claimed the body."
She gave a little shrug. "Well, if Victoria didn't, I doubt anybody else will."
"Tell me about the Dearings," he requested.
"They're a complicated family," she replied. "Political, steeped in Southern tradition."
"That was before," he stated. "What about now?"
"Everything changed with Evan's death," Joann explained. "My, uh, husband Lawrence was Harper's brother."
He glanced at the file again. "Your husband passed away."
"Four months ago from a heart attack," Joann confirmed, a note of sadness audible in her voice. "He was a decent man, a terrific doctor."
"Obituary doesn't list a burial site," he pressed.
"The Dearings have a family plot in Augusta," she explained. "A private cemetery."
Jethro rested his chin in his hand momentarily, a cheeky grin on his face. Lowering his hand, he gave a little hum. "So, Harper had access to his brother's remains?"
"Yes," Joann confirmed. "But why would that matter?"
Heading down to autopsy a short time later, Ducky accompanying him, Jethro hoped to be able to find something to help them close this chapter for good.
"Dr. Mallard," Palmer said happily as they walked in. "I've been holding onto the body for the family. No one ever contacted us."
"Claiming the remains of wanted men has always been taboo, Mr. Palmer. Forensic historians have traditionally shown more interest in their bodies than family members," Ducky commented. "That's why John Wilkes Booth has always been a fascination for me. You see, his body..."
"Duck," he redirected, "you're not here, remember?"
"Yes," Ducky agreed, "but I am alive. And, until I am embalmed and buried, there will be stories to tell. And I look forward to telling them."
"As Agent Gibbs already knows," Palmer explained, "due to the force of the blast, the intense heat, there wasn't much left to work with. But I did manage to find some flesh for Abby's DNA test."
Something caught the medical examiner's attention as Ducky was looking through the magnifying glass Palmer had just handed him. "Wait a second."
"Ducky," he gently chastised, "remember what I said. Stay in the backseat."
"Yes," Ducky said, "I don't wish to abuse my welcome, but you're about to get some of that free advice you asked me for."
"I could get in trouble for this," Palmer stated quite nervously as Ducky picked up the tweezers from the tray beside him.
"Call a cop," Ducky deadpanned.
The medical examiner picked up a small piece of the man's rib that had broken off and then showed it to Palmer.
"I'm guessing that broke during the explosion?" Palmer guessed.
"And you'd be guessing incorrectly," Ducky said. "Notice the minute fractures."
It was Jethro's turn to take a stab in the dark. "CPR?"
"Yeah," his long-time friend confirmed. "This man suffered a significant cardiac event prior to his death." Ducky eyed him. "Paramedics tried to revive him, but unlike yours truly, they did not succeed."
Palmer quickly glanced back over his file, clearly stunned. "Harper Dearing didn't have any history of heart problems."
"No," Jethro stated, "but he had a brother who just died of a heart attack."
"The DNA was close enough to be Harper Dearing," Palmer said.
"Not exact," he said.
"Brothers, Mr. Palmer." Ducky eyed him gravely as he spoke. "If Harper Dearing put his sibling's remains in that car..."
"He's still alive!" Jethro said, seriously concerned. "Ducky, go home."
Filling Abby in on the way, Jethro rushed up to the squad room to brief his team on the new situation they found themselves in.
"From what I can see, Gibbs," Abby said, "I think the car was rigged to heat the dead body, giving the illusion that Dearing was inside."
"What about the bomb?" he asked.
"Classic thermite," she replied. "And his cell signal only looked like it was coming from inside the car."
"Ziva," Jethro ordered, "call Fornell. Tell him we need a nationwide BOLO back out on Harper Dearing."
DiNozzo stopped eating his chicken wrap. "Boss, isn't Dearing dead?"
"Nope," he said.
"Then who was in the car?" Ziva asked.
"Lawrence Dearing," Abby explained. "Harper's dead brother."
"Ooh, grave robbery!" DiNozzo quipped. "Sweet."
"McGee," he ordered, "try to track Dearing using his old cell numbers."
McGee did as ordered, but given his expression, it wasn't going well. "Disconnected. Searching for new accounts with similar calling patterns."
"DiNozzo," he ordered, "Joann Dearing's bank accounts."
"The fiery fifty who was just in here?" DiNozzo asked. "On it, boss."
Ziva gave him an exasperated look. "Agent Fornell asked me to convey this message. 'Are you freaking kidding me? BOLO's out.'"
"Whoa-oa!" his Senior Field Agent stated. "Looks like Joann Dearing just found some spare change under the sofa cushions."
"How much?" he inquired.
DiNozzo glanced over at him. "$250, 000."
"McGee," he said, "switch gears. Run Joann's cell."
"Already on it," McGee told him. "The day after Harper Dearing's car exploded, Joann received several calls from a disposable phone somewhere in the Appalachians."
"Put it up," he ordered.
McGee did as asked, uploading the information to the plasma.
Ziva had apparently come up with something. "She also bought gas using a credit card in the small town of Martins-burg, West Virginia."
DiNozzo turned to him. "That's the same area, Boss. The cell calls, the gas station..."
Jethro had noticed the exact same thing and wanted to have another little chat with the rather posh woman. She knew something. "Get Joann Dearing back in here now." Rule #39: There is no such thing as coincidence.
Within the hour, Joann Dearing was back at NCIS and sitting in an interrogation room. She didn't know a whole lot but what she did know proved to be rather useful. Joann told them about an old farmhouse that her brother-in-law had been working out of.
Not wanting to waste time, Jethro immediately got on the road, having Tobias and his team join them on the raid as well.
"Federal agents!" Jethro called out.
Tobias did the same thing. "FBI!"
They started clearing the farmhouse.
McGee walked back into the main room. "Clear, Boss."
"I'm clear as well," Ziva said.
Tobias glanced around the room, noting the wide assortment of paraphernalia that had been left behind. "Well, well, well, look at this."
"Looks this is where Dearing planned everything," McGee commented.
"The bombs too," Ziva added. "It's all just sitting here."
"Now, Dearing wanted us to see this." He glanced around the room, taking everything in as he spoke. "He wanted us to know he was finished."
"So, where is he?" Tobias asked.
"Well," McGee replied, "thermal scan puts him in here as little as an hour ago."
"But nobody saw him leave," Tobias pointed out.
DiNozzo walked in and got his attention. "Hey, Boss."
Noting the man's line of sight, Jethro walked over to where he was standing and pulled back the rug, revealing a crawl space.
"It's an old moonshine prohibition run," he said.
Tobias frowned. "Probably goes all the way to the state border."
Irritated that Harper Dearing had managed to get away again, he slammed the door to the old moonshine prohibition run shut.
They continued the renewed search for Harper Dearing until 1700 and then Jethro sent his team home for the day.
He changed out of his dressier clothes, had dinner with Shannon and played a game of cards with her. Eventually, Stacy came over and the girls started doing their own thing and Jethro headed down to the basement to do some woodwork and to try and get his head on straight. Figure this mess out.
"Are you building something?" Vance said as he walked in.
"Yeah," he said, stopping what he was doing. "Shannon wants a hutch."
Vance smirked. "Perks of marrying a carpenter."
He laughed. "Well, she refused to date a lumberjack."
Vance shook his head, chuckling. "You called?"
He walked over to the large workbench to pour them both a glass of bourbon. "Yeah. Forensics linked everything in the farmhouse to Dearing."
"Dogs swept the tunnel," Vance added, taking his suit jacket off. "They missed him by twenty minutes."
"FBI and Homeland Security?" he asked.
"Working on leads," his boss said. "Why?"
"I got an idea," he said, passing Vance a drink. "You're not gonna like it."
They both took a seat, Vance giving him his undivided attention. "Try me."
"I go," he said. "Alone."
Vance took a swig of his drink and then eyed him. "You're right; I don't."
"Leon," he said softly, "this isn't about bombs and ships anymore. Dearing knows what he did. And he knows what has to happen next." The president himself had issued an assassination order and Dearing wasn't stupid.
"And you think you're the man for the job?" Vance pressed.
"We both made decisions," he said matter-of-factly. "We both made mistakes. Dearing knows that. He's waiting for me." Not to mention the fact that Jethro really didn't want to put anyone else on his team in that situation. To force them to carry that weight.
"Where?" Vance asked.
"The house where he and Victoria raised Evan," he said easily.
"And you know this because…?" Vance questioned.
"Because that's where I would go," he stated. It's the same reason why I could never sell this place in all of those years. It's Kelly's home. "That's where the memories are. The ones... that are important, anyway. The ones that Dearing holds on to. He wants these to be his last."
"There's no way I should let you do this," Vance replied gravely.
"No," he agreed, "you shouldn't."
"But I am," Vance said.
Jethro dropped his head slightly, mixed emotions about the situation.
Vance downed the rest of his drink, put the glass back down on the workbench, and then turned to face Jethro who was getting to his feet.
Vance locked eyes with Jethro while putting his suit jacket back on. "For the record, if anything should happen..."
"Take care of my family," he requested softly.
Vance nodded. "You don't even have to ask."
