Sorry it's taken so long to update!

Chapter Two

Back at the Navy Yard, Gibbs' team was hard at work. McGee had the photos from the crime scene up on the plasma, and the whole team was staring hard, as if to pick up some sort of clue. (quit looking at me like that. It's a crime story, after all!)

"Okay, let's review what we know," Gibbs said. "David-"

"Uh, I have nothing," she said sheepishly.

"You're kidding." Gibbs gave her one of killer stares.

"Uh, no."

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs had found a new target.

"Nothing, Boss. Sorry."

"DiNozzo, rule nember 6: Never apologize. It's a sign of weakness." (Corrected!)

"Yes, Boss."

"McGee, please tell me you have something for me!" Gibbs said exasperatingly.

"I have the addresses of the witnesses," he offered. He tapped a few keys on his keyboard, and the driver's liscences of James Sutton and Rachel Reed popped up on the plasma. "They live in Norfolk, obviously. Mrs. Reed at 364 Countryside Lane and Mr. Sutton lives directly across the street."

Immediately, Gibbs went into action. "DiNozzo, David, you're with me. McGee, go down to Abby's lab and see what she's got from that blood-stained knife." He strode over to the elevator with Tony and Ziva close behind. As the doors closed, they saw McGee with a pleased grin on his face.

"Who's driving, Boss?" Tony asked.

"Me," Gibbs replied as Ziva made a grab for the keys.

Tony and Ziva groaned. They were dead, for sure. Gibbs just gave one of his half-smiles.

Four hours later, the three federal agents were parked on the street and facing the two houses.

"Tony, Ziva, you take Mrs. Reed. I'll take the boyfriend," Gibbs decided after a few moments of thinking. Was it his imagination, or were they happy to be working together? The team leader shook the thought from his mind and headed into James Sutton's house. When they saw Gibbs disappear inside, Tony and Ziva walked over to Mrs. Reed's house.

"Mrs. Reed, federal agents. We'd like to ask you some questions," Tony called through the screen door. After a few moments, the door opened and a wary face framed by long blond hair peered back at him and Ziva. "Yes?"

"Special Agents Tony DiNozzo and Ziva David, NCIS. We'd like to ask you some questions about a murder last night," Tony said.

"Oh. Please, come in," she offered, opening the door wider. The two NCIS agents stepped inside, grateful to be out of the cold October air. They followed her to the living room, where all three dropped onto the couch. Tony pulled out a small note pad and pencil, preparing to take notes.

Ziva went first. "Where were you last night at, around, say, midnight?"

Rachel blushed, her cheeks turning crimson. "I was on a date."

"With who?" Tony butted in. Ziva shut him up with a killer stare. She still wasn't as good as Gibbs, though, in his opinion.

Rachel's green eyes slammed shut for a few heartbeats, as if she was thinking about what to say next. She quickly opened them and admitted with a abashed smile, "Look, I was with my boyfriend."

"Your husband know you're having an affair?" Ziva asked.

"No. Please don't tell him." She looked pleadingly at the two agents.

"Oh, of course not," Tony reassured her, though his eyes were dancing mischeviously.

"Tony!" Ziva reprimanded him.

He looked innocently at her. "What?"

"Don't even think about -" She broke off when she noticed Mrs. Reed was staring at them curiously. "Forget it. I'll talk to you later. I'm sure Gibbs will, too."

Tony paled. "You wouldn't."

She ignored him and focused on the witness. "Where were you when you were on your, ah, 'date'?"

Mrs. Reed looked sheepish. "We ended up on a backstreet . . ."

She didn't need to say any more. Tony and Ziva got the message.

"What happened next?" Ziva prompted.

"There was a scream. We looked out the windows, and there was this woman trying to run away. . . ." She shuddered. "It was awful."

Ziva started to say more, but Tony put a hand on her arm to silence her. She felt a tiny electric jolt go through her when they connected. They stood. Tony said, "I think we're done here. But we'll need you to describe who you saw to a sketch artist."

"Sorry. I didn't get a very good look at him, it being dark and all."

"I understand," Ziva said, finding her voice. She handed Mrs. Reed her business card. "If you remember anything else, contact us." Without waiting for her response, she headed out the door. Tony, after a moment's stunned silence, followed her.

They exited the house just as Gibbs was walking over to the car. After tbey climbed in, DiNozzo asked, "How did it go, Boss?"

"How do you think it went, DiNozzo?" he snapped.

"All right?" he ventured.

"Yep. He said he didn't get a good view of the killer, though, due to it 'being dark and all.' But," he conitnued as Ziva's jaw dropped open, "he did say that it was a white male, dark hair, about 5 ' 6''. I don't really know about the height, but it's all we've got."

There was silence in the back. Gibbs looked back and saw DiNozzo slumped against the backseat, eyes closed as though he was asleep. Ziva asked him, "Do you want me to wake him up?"

"Naw. I have a better idea. Hold on." With a smile, Gibbs hit the gas, causing Tony and Ziva to be thrown forward. Immediately, Tony's eyes snapped open.

"Are we there yet?"

"Not for about another four hours and 55 minutes, we're not."

Four hours and fifty-five minutes later (although it seemed like two hours), they were back in the bullpen.

DiNozzo looked up from the computer screen. "You know, I just realized this reminds me of -"

"A movie!" McGee and Ziva said in unison.

"Nope. A -"

Suddenly, Gibbs' phone rang. He picked up and answered, "Yeah. Gibbs." He listened for a moment to whatever the other person had to say, then replied, "Sure, Abbs, I'll be right there."

He slammed down the phone and headed down into Labby (a.k.a Lab of Abby. Or, as Abby likes to call it, Labby.) Of course, he stopped on the way down to buy her her daily Caf-Pow. "What'dya got, Abby?"

The Gothic forensic scientist turned to face him, white labcoat and black pigtails fanning out. "Gibbs! You scared me!" she protested idignantly.

"Sorry," he said, not really meaning it. "Is it worthy of this?" he asked, waving the Caf-Pow in front of her.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, making a grab for it. Gibbs whisked it out of her way. "Well, I found a partial print on the knife. I'm running it through AFIS now."

"Anything else?"

"Yep. This reminds me of a song I like . . ."

"About the case, Abby."

"Oh, sorry." She turned and headed to the computer. Typing a command, she brought up photos of the crime scene. "Does anything about this look odd to you?"

Gibbs squinted at the pictures. There were several drops of blood; nothing odd there. They didn't look as if they'd been staged - like at one case they had at a motel where the entire room was staged to look like a crime scene. Then he noticed the shape they were making. It looked like a letter, but he couldn't see it clearly. "Are you telling me she tired to tell us who killed her by writing in her own blood?" he asked. It reminded him of a case they had had where that wife had killed her husband and he had written a letter on the windshield, telling NCIS who killed him. . . . .

"Huh?"

"Look at the drops, Abbs." He pointed. Her expression cleared.

"Ohh," she said slowly.

Gibbs handed her the Caf-Pow. "Good work, Abbs," he whispered before heading out the door and back into the bullpen.

Again, sorry for the long wait. I've been having a severe case of writer's block for this story. (I found watching as many of the episodes and reading Patricia Cornwell's Scarpetta books helps.) I'll try to update ASAP.