After leaving the no doubt unappreciated message on his father's answering machine, Jethro headed into the squad room where McGee immediately got his attention.
Jethro walked with purpose over towards the younger agent's desk as McGee began to speak. "Got the security video from Metro P.D. Still waiting for Homeland's." Why does that not surprise me? "I haven't spotted the Ferrari yet."
Jethro sighed and then abruptly turned around with the intention of sitting down at his own desk to maybe get a report done while he waited for an update from Ziva and his Senior Field Agent. With no new leads, there was little else that he could do.
He was only halfway to the always inspection-ready desk when something caught the veteran agent's attention, stopping him firmly in his tracks. McGee had clearly recalled something he wished to share. "Oh, Boss?"
Jethro turned around to face the younger agent who'd pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and was holding it out to him. He took the note and quickly glanced over it. "Ah." It was LJ Moore's current address. "Thanks."
McGee nodded wordlessly as Jethro swiftly made his way over to the elevator, deciding to go and pay his namesake a visit. Maybe the man would be able to shed some light on the situation. Yes, Jethro had his theories, but he wasn't about to start tossing around assumptions and accusations without any facts. No matter how small or big it may have been, his old man had clearly been hurt.
Hopping into his truck, Jethro made the drive out to Goodwin House in Alexandria. It was a retirement community where LJ had apparently been residing for a few years now. It was strange to know he'd been so close this entire time.
He was almost at the front door of LJ's building when he spotted his namesake getting of the electric ramp a few feet away. "Hi."
The man's eyes widened slightly. "Leroy?"
He smiled warmly. "I didn't know if you'd recognize me."
"Oh," LJ said happily as he offered his hand, "those blue eyes haven't changed."
Shaking his namesake's hand, the pair proceeded to grab a coffee and make their way over to one of the empty picnic tables so they could sit down and talk. "Yeah, I retired from the post office over twenty years ago. Somehow my days are always filled."
He seems to be doing well. "You married?"
LJ gave Jethro a very cheeky smile. "Oh, I tried it a couple of times, but it didn't work for me." The elderly man took a seat while he talked. "You know, it put a smile on my face, hearing that you joined the Corps, Leroy."
Jethro gave the older man a look of utter sincerity. "Well, you had a lot to do with that, LJ. You were my hero long before you got the Medal of Honour."
The other man tried to brush the comment off. "Oh."
"Yeah," he elaborated. "Iwo. Montford Point Marine."
LJ looked touched but tried to brush it off again. "Well, truth be told, I wanted to be a Marine 'cause of that snazzy blue dress uniform with those red stripes. Real sharp."
Jethro couldn't help but chuckle at that.
The man eyed him. "So, I see a ring. Who's the lucky lady?"
"Shannon," he said with an affectionate smile. "Got married in December of '81. It has been interesting, to say the least."
LJ nodded contentedly. "Oh, I can believe that. Kids?"
"One," he confirmed. "A daughter. Kelly. Waiting on grand-baby number two."
His namesake smiled earnestly. "I'm happy for you."
"Why'd you try to pawn your Medal of Honour?" he asked.
The elderly man jumped into an explanation about what had happened. "Well, it meant a lot to me when I finally got it, but I had no family to share it with, and over the years, it was just collecting dust on a shelf. When the lift broke down, a lot of people couldn't go in and out of the building." So, he isn't having financial problems. That's a big relief. "They didn't have the money to fix it, so... I put the medal to good use."
Jethro nodded with a smile and then decided to rip the bandaid off and get to the real reason he was there. "You haven't asked about my father."
"Well, you haven't said anything about him." LJ's expression shifted. "He alive?"
He dipped his head slightly. "Oh, yeah. He hasn't changed much."
LJ gave a little hum in response.
"He's still got the store," he stated.
The older man hummed once again.
"Why'd you leave Stillwater?" he asked.
"Well," the older man replied, "I'm sure your father and I have different versions about what happened. Why don't you ask him?"
"I have," he stated. "He won't talk about it."
And just like that the same wall of resistance that the Gibbs patriarch had shot up. LJ eyed his wristwatch. "A poker game is about to begin, and if I don't referee, a fight is liable to break out."
He rose to his feet and gave the man a business card. "If you need anything..."
LJ took the card and then offered his hand. "Well, it's been good catching up."
He shook the man's hand. "If you want to talk..."
Driving back to D.C, Jethro worked for a couple more hours before calling it a day and going home. His team had gotten nowhere with Kris Taylor as the young man lawyered up pretty quickly. Ultimately, Jethro decided to keep the boy in lockup. Kris didn't have an alibi, and they could connect Kris to the murder weapon, just not their victim.
When Jethro pulled up to the house after work, however, he was a bit surprised to see his old man's truck parked in the driveway. Gee, thanks. Couldn't have given me a bit of a heads up there, Shannon?
Walking into the house, he greeted his wife and kissed her on the cheek. Pulling back, eyed her questioningly and spoke softly. "Where is he?"
Shannon gestured to the kitchen and replied in a whisper. "Just got here. I'm gonna go take Bailey for a walk."
With a curt nod, Jethro made his way towards the room where his father was currently making himself his usual double-double coffee.
His father turned around and spotted him. "Don't look surprised to see me. Shannon give you a heads up?"
"Nah," he replied. "That beat-up old truck of yours out front was a dead giveaway."
His father rolled his eyes. "As opposed to yours?"
"Why'd you drive down?" he inquired as he took a cup out of the cupboard so he could pour himself a cup of black coffee.
"'Cause of that brazen message you left on my machine," the older man retorted as he took a seat down at the kitchen table. "You need to show a little more respect, Jethro. I'm still your father. And I told you never to bring that man's name up again."
"It's forty years ago, Dad." Pulling out one of the chairs, he took a seat across from his father, noting the sound of the front door gently closing behind his wife and their very energetic dog. "What happened between you and LJ?"
The Gibbs patriarch eyed him. "Some things are left better unsaid."
"He was your best friend," Jethro gently countered, "he was your business partner. You named your only son after him. I think that I deserve an explanation."
Something shifted in his father's expression. An emotion that Jethro understood all too well playing across the older man's face. Grief. "He killed your mother, Jethro."
"Mom died of cancer," Jethro gently countered. He knew his mother had, in fact, taken her own life. Overdosed on her morphine when her health had gotten quite poor. When it had become clear that her condition was terminal.
"She had cancer," his father finally admitted, "but that's not what killed her."
"Yeah," he said. "I know what happened, Dad. She took her own life."
His father's eyes widened slightly. "You knew?"
He nodded his head gravely. "Yeah, Dad, I knew."
"But I never told you," his father stated. "You were only fourteen."
He leaned forward slightly, palms up, confused. "Why are you blaming LJ?"
Surprisingly, his father answered him this time. "Your mother was in pain, Jethro. She didn't want to fight anymore." Jethro had noticed as much the last time he'd seen his mother. "She confided in LJ that she was going to overdose." Now all the puzzle pieces were falling into place for him. "He didn't stop her. And he didn't tell me. She had time left, Jethro, and I wanted every minute of it. He cheated us. We deserved to have that time with her." As his father spoke, his right hand hit his coffee mug, knocking it to the ground. It shattered into several large pieces. His father abruptly got to his feet. "That drive knocked me out. I'm going to bed."
As his father made his way upstairs to the guest bedroom, Jethro just sat there at the kitchen table, mind running a mile a minute. Jethro was torn between understanding it was his mother's choice, that he would've lost her soon anyway, and wanting that bit of extra time with her. On the other hand, he'd been there. He'd been suicidal at one point. He couldn't blame his mother or LJ for respecting her wishes. There was never going to be a light at the end of her tunnel. She wanted to go out on her terms.
Finishing his coffee, he got up, poured himself a glass of bourbon, and called his wife to let her know that his conversation with his father was over.
Jethro didn't think that either he or his father were going to actually get much in the way of sleep that night. Not after that short yet poignant discussion.
