Chasing Jack
Chapter Seven
The door clicked closed at his back as he stepped out onto the sidewalk. The warm embrace which had engulfed his body while in the little coffee shop faded and the crispness of an early morning in October grasped a hold of him. Gibbs stood outside the cafe for a moment and breathed in the fresh cool air. It carried a hint of the ocean and he smiled faintly. The smell always took him to a place of freedom – of days spent out at sea by himself in a sailboat. But these days the sensation was always very fleeting and with a single heartbeat it had come and gone. He wondered if he would ever be able to savor it for any real length of time again.
Tugging up at the zipper on his jacket with his free hand in an attempt to keep the chill away he headed down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace. He would head in the direction of the hotel but he could use the slowed progress to clear his head and maybe figure out why his gut had gone into overdrive. He took his first sip from the cup in his hand just as his cell began to ring. He retrieved it from his pocket and answered it without bothering to check the caller id.
"Gibbs."
"Boss, where are you? I knocked on your door but you didn't answer."
"That would be because I'm not there McGee."
"I sort of figured that out Boss."
"Ya did, did ya? All on you own huh?" the team lead retorted.
"Point taken."
"What is it McGee?"
"Remember Chris Bennett?"
"From the list. Our missing ferry lines employee. What about him?"
"He's dead. His body was found along the Fore River. It runs between Portland and South Portland and empties out into the bay. Body got hung up on something near the shore."
"Cause of death?"
"I only just saw it on the news. Still under investigation. But his body was found near the Casco Bay Bridge. The news seemed to imply that he may have jumped. There's another bridge close by along the river too. Veteran's Bridge. So that's a possibility they are looking at as well."
"More like someone got to him before we did."
"The Wheel?" McGee questioned.
"Willing to bet my morning coffee on it. And I just found a place here that makes a decent cup. Question is why were they looking for him?"
"He was the very first name on that list Boss."
"And now he's dead. Suicide my ass!"
"Yeah and Jack Cutter was the second. If they got to Bennett before we could they are not far behind Cutter either."
"Yeah McGee! That's why we're going to find him first."
"Boss, what are you thinking?"
"That Jack Cutter knows something. I can feel it in my gut. Dammit! We're missing something big here and it's beginning to piss me off."
"I was just starting to do some digging on Bennett. From what I can gather from the news and other sources he kind of lived on the margins. Kind of guy who moved around a lot, worked odd jobs for cash, a bit sketchy. Even used an alias once or twice."
"The list. It gave notes on each person. What did it have for Bennett?"
"Uh. Let me see. It says brown hair, slightly over six feet tall with green eyes. Works at Casco Bay Ferry. Portland, Maine. That's it."
"What about the others?"
"Well, you already know about Jack Cutter. Just that he worked at Traveler's Pub and Portland, Maine. After him there's Matt Hanson. Just says Preble Street Gym and that he has brown hair and over six feet tall. Portland again. Then there's Thomas Riley. Says brown eyes, reddish brown hair, Shaw's Supermarket. Portland. Then the next one doesn't list a name just brown hair and green eyes and drives a black Mazda. Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Next Robert Tremblay - over six feet, green eyes, Carlton Street shelter. Portland. Then another one with no name. Sandy blond hair about six feet two or three, jogging trail. Ann Arbor, Michigan. Then just a first name, Travis, green eyes, dark brown hair, Works at Pop's Gas Station. Saratoga Springs, New York. Next is..."
"Stop McGee."
"Boss?"
"You notice anything about the people on that list?"
"Uh. Well. They are all men. No women."
"Yeah. True. What else?"
"I guess there's some characteristics that repeat. Lot of brown hair, green eyes and tall," the junior agent offered.
"Identifiers. The kind you might put on a report."
"Or in a BOLO."
"Yep. Just like that."
"Boss, what are you thinking?"
"It's a hunt list McGee. The people on that list aren't people The Wheel wants to recruit or tap for resources. Not anything of the kind. They are looking for someone. And that list is the possibilities. They are hunting down the people on that list until they find the one they are looking for."
"Boss, that means every person on that list is in danger."
"Not if we get to them first. The other names on the list. Get Ziva and Moore on running them down. Just to gather intel. Do not approach yet."
"Well I was already started on that."
"Hand it off to them. You and I are going to pay Bruce Seavey another visit."
"The pub owner?"
"Well, yeah, McGee. The guy was willing to alert Cutter that we were there so he could run. Maybe he knows something about Cutter we could use to find him."
"Boss, I also started looking at Cutter. There's nothing. He's like a ghost. He must work under the table. I hacked into Department of Labor's system and he is not on the list of employees on any filed wage returns for Traveler's Pub. I had hoped to get a Social or even a middle name on him but no luck. I've checked other databases and there's just nothing."
"Way too clean. Driver's License?"
"Did get that. He's blond. Blue eyes. Heavy set."
"Did you get any kind of look at Cutter?"
"Sorry Boss. He had a hood up over his head the entire time. He was probably about my height though which gels with the license information. But he wasn't heavy set like the driver's license photo. Could have lost weight and gotten in shape I suppose. I know I haven't updated my license since I started going to the gym more. Lot of people look different than when they had their license photo taken."
"Or the picture is a fake. Close enough to pass but not really him. Get pulled over and he can use the same explanation you just did. Can say he lost weight and it's a bad photo. Set Abby on facial rec on the photo. Maybe there's some connection between Cutter and the guy in the photo."
"Will do Boss."
"McGee think. Hard. Was there anything else you remember about your encounter with Cutter? Put yourself back there. Anything?" Gibbs pressed. A few seconds of silence followed before the junior agent replied.
"I heard his voice. Softly anyway."
"Would you recognize it if you heard it again?"
"I don't know Boss. Probably not. It was very quiet and I was in the middle of trying to wrestle him down off the fence. Then just before he kicked me I felt that he had gun in an ankle holster on his leg."
"He had a weapon and you didn't tell me about it sooner!"
"Boss, I swear it just came back to me. Probably because we're talking about it. It was right before I passed out that I discovered it strapped to his leg. Maybe the knock on the head made me forget til now."
"We'll be having a little chat about that later. But for now. Could you make out what he said?"
"It wasn't in English I know that much. Sounded like Italian maybe. And it was only a word or two."
"Think on it. See if you can remember what it sounded like. Brew on it in the back of your head. Might come back to you."
"I don't think it'll do much good."
"Worth a try."
"What's the plan when we catch Cutter or whichever one of those on the list The Wheel is actually after?"
"Leverage McGee. If the Wheel is after this guy and we get to him first we can negotiate. Protection in exchange for information on The Wheel."
"Well, then, hopefully it wasn't Chris Bennett."
"My gut is telling me this Jack Cutter knows something. I don't think he just ran because we're cops."
"How are you so sure Boss?"
"I just told you McGee. My gut."
"It does have a pretty good track record."
"And it's screaming at me to find Cutter."
"Working on it Boss."
"I'm on my way back to the hotel now."
"Alright see you in a few."
Gibbs disconnected the call and slipped the phone back in his jacket pocket. He still maintained a lax pace on the way towards the hotel. He was hoping with a little solo time the pieces might show him how they hit together.
"That's a good cup of coffee," he commented after taking a second long sip from the Java Jim's cup. He would have to see about getting his refills from that same coffee shop.
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The Casco Bay Bridge loomed overhead as Danny St. Clair walked the shoreline of the Fore River. They had a dead body which at first theory was looking like a jumper. Chris Bennett, early forties, single, off and on mechanic and handy man. He had been deceased for about a day. They were still waiting upon the official word on how much of that time had been spent in the water. The corpse had been spotted shortly after dawn by a boat passing by on the river. Bennett's body had gotten caught up on some brush along the edge of the river in an area under the bridge.
St. Clair knew the place well. When he was still riding a patrol car he would get calls down here quite a bit. The transients tended to gather here away from the scrutiny of people on the city streets. They would camp out in makeshift tents and shelters. That was until the cops were called of course.
Danny stopped walking and looked down at the digital camera in his hand. He hit the button on it to scroll forward and back through the photos which had been taken of the body. Noting the brown hair and green eyes he then dug into his jacket pocket for his notebook. He flipped to the last page where he had taken down the other physical characteristics of the man. The height immediately stood out to him. Six feet two.
He then flipped the pages backwards and let his eyes skim the other notes there. When they had looked Bennett up in the system he had come up as having used several aliases.
Danny lifted his gaze up from the notepad and peered up at the bridge above his head. It seemed too much of a coincidence. Bennett's description fit that Scout Order from The Wheel just a little too well. Now he was more and more certain they were looking for someone in particular and had more than one possibility to check out. They must have gotten multiple reports in on the order. His assignment and the order were connected just as he suspected. They had sent another Wheel member to look at Bennett. And either Bennett had been the one who they sought and they had disposed of him, making it look like a suicide, or Bennett had become aware of their checking into him. And maybe put up a fight which he clearly lost.
He would have to contact Billy Greene again soon. Danny decided it was best to play that conversation as if he was responded to the Scout Order. Telling his boss that he had a deceased that fit the bill. Then see what Greene was willing to share. He may also report in on how Cutter's residence had panned out which hadn't been good.
But he would have to make that call on his second cell phone and at a time when he wasn't surrounded by what felt like half of the Portland police force.
Danny slipped his notepad back in his pocket and turned off the camera. He began walking again. This time making his way over to where his fellow detective and their sergeant stood talking.
"I'm tending to agree here. Looking more and more like a jumper," he stated when he reached them.
"Yeah. Run every angle. But I have a feeling we'll end up back where we started," the detective sergeant commented.
"Me too. Sarge. Me too," Danny St. Clair offered in reply.
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Abby hummed as she moved about her lab. She brought up one of the monitors so it was all set to go for the team to contact her which McGee had texted they would do soon. She had told him to video conference. It made her feel like they weren't so far away and calmed a small shred of her anxiety. Seeing them all last night had certainly helped her fall asleep.
Her humming of Working On The Railroad got more lively and finally she was actually singing the tune aloud. However, she quickly bored of the old version and made up her own as she continued to organize some of the evidence for processing.
"I've been working on the evidence all the live long morn. I've been working on the evidence. Just to put the bad guys away. Don't you hear Mister Mass Spec calling. Got a really late start this morning. Can't you hear the Bossman growling."
"Nice rewrite!" a voice stated from behind her. She froze in place for a second before daring to turn around. Finally when she did she realized the voice had come from her computer. As promised the team was contacting her. Well, at least one of them was calling her that is.
"Thank goodness it's you McGee."
"Well thanks Abby. It's nice to talk to you too."
"I mean I totally overslept this morning. Ya know what with being here so late last night. I guess the fact that I forgot to set my alarm might have had something to do with it. And now the morning is gone. I mean it's practically afternoon already. Anyway, I was so glad it wasn't Gibbs calling."
"Oh. I see."
"Oh no. I love talking to you McGee. But as grouchy as Gibbs has been since all this started back up I figured I better be on my A game and I am not really starting off well today. My game's a little sub par this morning."
"Well then you will be happy to know that Gibbs found this little coffee shop down the street called Java Jim's and he actually likes their coffee. So he is a fraction less grouchy than he was last night. I am thinking about going over there and seeing if they take donations. I would really like to show them my gratitude."
"Day ain't over McGee. I wouldn't be counting out those bills just yet."
"Hey! Don't burst my bubble. I'm injured remember."
"That's low Timmy. Playing the injured card. And after I offered you a double dose of my hugs."
"How about I make up for it by giving you a gift?" he offered with a smile.
"It's not like a gag gift is it?"
"Nope. And you get to use one of your favorite software programs with it."
"You're not talking about the one I think you're talking about, are you?"
"Yes Abby. It involves facial recognition."
"I love facial recognition!"
"I know you do. So my gift to you is that I have sent you a driver's license photo and I need you to see if you can come up with a name."
"Wait a minute mister! You said this wasn't a gag gift," Abby stated while crossing her arms over her chest in annoyance.
"It's not."
"It's from a driver's license, McGee, you already have a name."
"Ah ha! That's where you're wrong. We don't believe that the picture belongs with the name on the license."
"Sneaky. I like it."
"I thought you might."
"Will you bring me a real gift when you come back? Ya know if you can swing it. Even just an itsy bitsy sovereign. Never been to Maine before."
"I'll do my best. But I have a feeling that the only place we're stopping at on the way out of town when this is done is Java Jim's for Gibbs last refill."
"Well, bring me a bag of their coffee. I can use it to get stuff out of Gibbs. Ya know sway him over to my way of thinking on stuff. I'll just wave the open bag under his nose. Hmm? Better buy a couple bags. On second thought maybe they can ship it to us in bulk," the forensics expert proposed.
"That's a really good idea Abby."
"What's a good idea, McGee?" Gibbs asked suddenly appearing behind his agent.
"Uh, well. Abby was just about to give us something useful. Weren't you Abby?"
"That's...uh...true. I was. What was that again? Oh yeah. I have something Ducky wanted me to tell you about when you called. He had a dental appointment to go to – something that needed looking at without delay. He didn't seem very excited though. Surprising. I always look forward to the dentist."
"Wasn't excited. Imagine that," McGee commented in jest.
"What was it he wanted passed along?" Gibbs asked.
"He said he would touch base with you later on the details. But you know how Ducky said last night that if the drowning thing hadn't killed Davis cancer would have?"
"Yeah. So."
"This guy was totally doomed."
"Why?"
"Because on second review Ducky discovered something. Some of Davis' organs that initially looked like they were damaged due to the cancer or possibly cancer treatments weren't."
"Meaning?"
"If the drowning hadn't killed Davis next in line probably would have been the poison. And then the cancer. Like I said he was doomed."
"What kind of poison Abs?"
"I am working on it as we speak. Looks like it might be some sort of combination of poisons or an altered one. As soon as I know you will."
"Anything else on that plastic thingy?" McGee asked.
"Not yet. But I have found something interesting regarding the clothes he had on when they found him. As soon as I took them out of the evidence bag I could smell it. Well, there were some other smells that we won't even talk about but this one was a positive one."
"What did you find Abby?" Gibbs inquired.
"Negative ions. Well not really negative ions. But the smell leads back to negative ions which by the way can be very healing."
"Get to the point Abby."
"Ya know how people say they are more relaxed at the beach. It's because they probably are. Ocean air has a higher concentration of negative ions to positive ones compared to regular air and especially to polluted air. Negative ions can stimulate the mood and help brain waves. I always love how the smell of the ocean lingers on you when come home. Ya know even though what the smell really comes from is kind of gross. Well, anyway, that's what Devon Davis came home with too. Underneath all the other unmentionable smells he smelled like the ever relaxing ocean air."
"How long would that scent last? How long a time frame we talking?" the team leader questioned.
"To still be a pleasant smell when I opened the bag it would have to have been really close to time of death."
"Maybe Devon Davis stayed somewhere recently near a beach or went on a boat ride or just was, ya know, hanging around the beach?" McGee interjected.
"And that's just what you'll be looking into when we get back here McGee."
"Where are you guys going?" Abby asked.
"Ya know that list I put in evidence. The one we got from the guys Gibbs and I chased."
"Sure do. Still working on that code."
"I've actually made some progress on that. I'll call you when we're back and show you. Anyway, the top couple pages had that list of people. We're running them down. The second one down – the one who did this to my face – Jack Cutter – he worked at a pub downtown here so we are going to go back and talk to the owner again to see if he knows anything to help us track down the guy."
"You go get him McGee! Then if I was there of course I would sit on him and hold him down for you while you bop him right smack in the schnozola."
"Thanks for the offer Abby. I think we got it covered."
"That's true. Just one glare from Gibbs will be enough to paralyze the jerk while you deck him."
"Get to work Abby. I want answers! And if you don't have some the next time I call you'll be the one receiving the glare!" the team lead snapped.
"On it Bossman. Sciuto out!" she announced and logged off.
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Just as he stepped down from the boat onto the dock Billy Greene's phone rang. He started to walk up along the wooden walkway as he retrieved the phone and answered.
"Yep."
"It's St. Clair."
"Danny, what do you have for me?"
"Well, caught a case up here. Body found in the water along the shoreline of the river. Reason I mention it is because it fit that order from a while back. This guy had brown hair, green eyes and is over six feet tall. He's also got a couple aliases. I can send you a photo if you want."
"Yeah. Send it," he answered and turned back towards the boat so he would be able to take a look at it on his laptop. Fortunately, the marina where the boat was docked had wi-fi in the area.
"You should have it in a few seconds."
"Anything else?" he inquired. He had climbed back abroad and had pulled his laptop out of the bag he had been carrying.
"Did pick up a lead on Jack Cutter."
"Good. Uh. Yeah. Not interested in your deceased," Billy replied as he looked at the picture of a very dead Chris Bennett. He deliberately neglected to mention why he was not interested though.
"I had searched to see if Cutter had a car registered. At first I came up empty. But then this morning it occurred to me that Cutter's first name might actually be John or Jonathan since Jack can be a nickname for those names. So I tried both John and Jonathan Cutter. Still no hits. I searched another way and came up with a Jeep registered to a Jonathan Cutters. Easy enough there. Somebody in some office somewhere typed it in wrong or Cutter did it deliberately hoping the S on the end of the last name would be overlooked which it was. Cutter probably thought it would make it hard to find."
"And it appears he was correct. You get a plate on him?" Billy asked.
"I got more than that."
"How's that?"
"There was a parking ticket entered into the system this morning on that plate. It was parked downtown in the business district. Overnight tonight the street sweeper is scheduled on that street. If it's still there by midnight it will be towed. Since Cutter was chased by those two navy cops it's hard to tell if he'll return to it before then. Anyway, I recognized the street where the ticket was written and it just so happens that recently I worked a case down there. The video from a camera at one of the businesses became useful. While at the business to go over the video I got to know the owner well and he welcomed me back anytime. So this afternoon I went over to the business district. I located the Jeep without actually approaching it. Then I went over to the store where I knew the owner and asked if I might look at his video again. I realized that the place where the Jeep was parked was within the outer edge of the camera's range so it may have caught something. I hoped I might get something on Cutter at the Jeep. And we got damn lucky because I got him on video getting out of the vehicle. It's not high definition or anything but I managed to get a still photo from the video."
"Able to send it to me?"
"Sure can. Sending it right now."
"That's good work Danny."
"Interested in that photo any more than the last one?" the detective inquired.
"I am extremely interested in this photo. I'm going to tell you something in confidence. You hear what I am saying to you?" Greene responded as he studied the picture on the computer screen in front of him.
"I hear ya."
"The man in this photo is someone we have been looking to locate for a while now. He is someone your bosses need to speak with and who will then be educated on his misguided actions while in our employ."
"See now you have my curiosity up. What on earth did this guy do?"
"I am not at liberty to tell you any further details over the phone. I am coming up there and will explain more when I arrive. I will be leaving here shortly."
"Is there anything I can do to help in the meantime? If need be I can bird dog the Jeep. That way if Jack comes for it we can track him. Sounds like you don't want to lose him."
"Do it if you can manage it without drawing too much attention."
"Shouldn't be too much trouble. I can get the device underneath the vehicle in a matter of seconds."
"Do your best to conceal it. Cutter might be checking the vehicle for such things."
"Really? Who is this guy?"
"I'll explain when I get up there."
"Alright I'll see you in a bit. Meeting place?"
"Number three."
"Got it," the detective assured him.
"Be smart. Fight hard."
"And die old!" Danny responded with their typical conversation ender. Billy hit the button on the phone to finish the call then immediately dialed another number.
Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was alive and they had proof and were closing in on him. He had to inform his fellow leaders and confer on the details of the handling of this little problem. Just the thought that in a matter of a couple hours he might be face to face with that traitor made the adrenaline pulse through his veins.
"Mercy is only for the loyal," he commented to himself as he listened to the ringing on the other end of the line.
"Hey!" Aaron Davis' voice answered finally.
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Tony held up the piece of white lined paper in his left hand and stared at it. His right hand grasped a hold of one of the cigarette lighters he had stored in his hiking pack. The pen he had used to write with was now laid discarded on the old wooden desk in front of him.
The black ink of the words he had written seemed to stare back at him. He never should have written the letter which was why he had put down the pen and picked up the lighter instead.
But seeing Gibbs and McGee had broken free all those memories and emotions from that deep down place inside himself where he had locked them away so long ago.
Originally, he had pulled up a chair to the desk and with a pen and pad of paper from his pack had began taking down notes he would pass along to Fornell when they met. Over the years he had been going over every last detail in his head about his time with The Wheel. He had not come up with anything rock solid but there were several things that might lead somewhere so he had jotted them down for the FBI agent to check.
However, when he had finished with that list and torn the pages from the notepad the next blank page stared up at him. And without pondering on what he was doing too long he had started writing a letter to his team.
He supposed part of it was that he knew The Wheel was close on his trail this time. And there was a fair chance that someday he just might not get away. This might be his last chance to hand off a letter to Fornell in the event of his actual death.
But now he wasn't sure he should pass it along. Maybe if The Wheel did catch up to him perhaps it was best that his team never knew he had been alive all this time. It seemed cruel to make them think in retrospect that he had been out there and they hadn't been able to help him. So now here he sat with the letter in one hand and the lighter in the other. His own words met his gaze.
First came his brotherly teasing to Tim and then the more serious offering of how good an agent Tim had become. He told the younger agent he better have Gibbs' back or he would come back and haunt his ass. But then commented that luckily he wouldn't have to do that because he couldn't really see them doing the pottery scene from Ghost. He knew Tim would not let him down.
There was the sisterly teasing of Ziva and how it was best this was in a letter rather than in person because he was pretty sure he would lose an eye or a limb otherwise. He thanked her for being part of their team and bringing him some differing and raw perspective that both he and the team needed.
To Ducky he wrote of how he so greatly appreciated his ability to stay grounded and to ground others including himself many a time. He even admitted to missing the old man's tales of intrigue and adventure regardless of whether they were true or embellished.
He simply thanked Jimmy Palmer for being a stand up guy and also for giving Ducky a partner. Because everyone needs a good fit in a partner and he and Ducky were that.
Then there was the description of just how enormous the hug he was visualizing himself giving Abby in his head was. He offered her his admiration of how she was fearless and stubborn in being herself and not giving in to what others expected or wanted her to be. Then he described how good the imagined hug back from Abby had been.
Lastly, he had kept it short and simple with the passage to Gibbs. He had written just a few short lines which he hoped conveyed the importance of having known the marine for over a decade.
Boss, it was an honor having your six – best education I could have ever asked for.
You offered me the greatest gift anyone ever could – a real family and a place I belonged. I never told you this but that day in the hallway outside of the agent application office the head slap wasn't necessary – I already knew I was home.
His eyes blurry with moisture Tony struggled to take in a sufficient breath. Last night it had been calming to know that Gibbs and the team were somewhere not far away – somewhere under the same city lights. But now he kind of wished they hadn't been so close to discovering him. With the arrival of daylight the realization had come that continuing on from here was going to be even harder than it had been for the last four years. All the memories and emotions he had worked so hard to lock away were now running rampant in his heart and mind. Going on from here was going to be even lonelier and even greater a struggle.
Tony flicked the lighter in his hand on so the flame ignited. He held it near the bottom corner of the paper. But he couldn't bring himself to actually touch the flame to the page. So he turned off the lighter and dropped it onto the desk. He folded the letter and slipped it and the notes for Fornell into the inside pocket of his jacket. Maybe he just needed to carry it with him for a while before he could let it go and finally burn it.
Standing up Tony glanced out the window at the fall afternoon. He had a little while left before he had to head out from the safe house to meet Fornell so he decided he would go make sure everything was packed up. He had decided that it was probably wise to leave his supplies here since going out with the large hiking pack and sleeping bag strapped to his back and the duffel in hand would draw attention to him. He just prayed that it would go well and he would have the chance to come back for his things because they could prove useful. He would grab a few items to carry with him though. The 9mm firearm and the ammo were definitely coming with him. He would change clothes including wearing one of the baseball caps he had packed in the duffel. And then he would grab some food out of his pack since he had learned long ago he better eat while he had the chance.
Checking his watch he assured himself he had more than ample time to get ready and then headed off towards the small back room where he had held up for most of the night and morning.
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"So this Jack Cutter guy own a car McGee? You did check into that, right?" Gibbs asked as they walked up the sidewalk towards Travelers.
"Well, I have been checking registration and title databases. I started here in this state but I mean he could have a car from some place else. Nothing yet."
"Maybe Seavey knows something about his ride."
"Good idea Boss. Coworkers often see what their colleagues drive. That is if he has a car. I suppose he could use public transportation. Would explain why I haven't found anything so far. Even I still have a bus pass."
"Do ya really see a guy like Jack Cutter who gets paid under the table, works in a bar, and runs at the first sign of law enforcement being someone who relies on the bus McGee?" the team leader replied as they made their way into the pub.
"I see your point," Tim said as he followed Gibbs into the main room of the bar. Seavey was there stooped over working on something underneath the counter. He straightened up upon hearing their conversation.
"Ugh. You two again!" he tossed at them.
"It's nice to see you again too," Gibbs threw right back in a sarcastic tone.
"Last time you were here you ran off my best employee and I'm supposed to welcome you back."
"Wow. That's some employee standard you got there, Bruce, if Cutter was your star employee!" Gibbs commented.
"Hey, the man did his job. Didn't give me any trouble until the pair of you showed up. Now I'm down a man."
"He's the one who chose to run," McGee piped in.
"Well you were chasing him with guns. Big surprise that he ran."
"Why run if you have nothing to hide?" Gibbs asked.
"Was there something specific you wanted or are you just here to harass me?"
"Just a few questions about Cutter then we'll do our best not to come back," the senior agent offered.
"Alright. If that's what it'll take. I got customers that will be in soon. And I don't need you two here when they arrive. Bad for business!" Seavey conceded. Tim jumped right on in.
"Hey. I noticed you have all these photos on the walls. Any chance this Jack guy is in one of them?" McGee inquired as his gaze panned around the room. The walls were crammed with photos, many of them of cheerful groups of people celebrating at the bar. He hoped the odds were that the guy they were looking for might be in at least one of them.
"Not likely. Jack always offers to be the one to take the pictures. Pretty good at it too. Doesn't seem to care much for having his own taken though."
"Imagine that?" McGee replied not particularly surprised but a tad disappointed.
"Now why would that be?" Gibbs added with suspicion edging his tone.
"I don't ask questions. Don't go askin' for trouble. Enough comes through here all on its own. Jack helps me out with that pretty good. So I let him be."
"So he's your bouncer?" Gibbs inquired.
"Let's put it this way. He is a man of many hats."
"Any of those hats, oh I don't know, say could maybe land him in jail?"
"Hey now! I just run a club. If you're asking if I have anything going on the side not so on the up and up then the answer is no."
"Better not be. Because if there is and we find it won't end well for you," Gibbs stated.
"Is that some kind of threat?" the pub owner snapped.
"Nope. Merely a suggestion that it might be a good idea to cooperate."
"I've been nothing but cooperative since you walked in here. You're still here, aren't ya?"
"No. Since we walked in here you haven't given me one shred of information that will help us find Jack. That's gonna change right now."
"Come on man! He's an okay guy. Helped me out a time or two. Can't we just leave it there?"
"Nope." Gibbs responded, popping a peanut from the bowl on the bar in his mouth.
"He really is an okay guy. All of this ratting him out doesn't feel right."
"Look at his face. Do you see his broken nose? Do you see those bruises? Your okay guy did that!" Gibbs growled, gesturing towards McGee whose face was now deep shades of purple and black.
"Alright fine. I don't know much."
"Well so far you've given us nothing. So anything would be an improvement. We'll start with an easy one. What kind of vehicle does he have?" Gibbs questioned.
"For the record I hate doing this."
"I'll be sure to note that in my report."
"He drives a Jeep Grand Cherokee."
"Color?"
"Silver. No. Gray."
"Which is it? They're two different colors," McGee questioned growing a little agitated. He just needed some scrap of something solid he could latch on to and run down.
"What do I look like a paint shop? Dark gray I guess."
"What year?"
"I don't know. I didn't go through his glove box or nothing."
"Take a guess!" the team leader pushed him with to get any kind of useful answer.
"Maybe four or five years old."
"Plate?" Tim inquired. He could only hope the other man had noticed something.
"Maine plate. Regular one ya know. Not the fancy ones you can pick."
"Remember the number?"
"Not really."
"Try a little harder!" Gibbs instructed.
"Might have had an R in it I think. That's all I remember."
"How about a description?"
"I just told you it was a Jeep."
"A description of Jack."
"Blond hair. Not cut real close. Not too long though. Just like he was in need of a visit to the barber. Usually a little scruff on his face. Blue eyes. The women seem to take to him so good looking," Seavey reluctantly provided. Tim pulled up the license picture he had found and held up his phone so the pub owner could see it.
"This him?" he asked.
"Nah man. That ain't him."
"Are you sure?" Tim pressed.
"I'm not blind. I worked with him for months I think I would be able to tell. And I am telling you that ain't Jack Cutter. This the guy you are looking for? You mean to tell me you ran Jack off and he wasn't even the one you were looking for."
"Oh no. He's the one. Just confirming the license is a fake," Gibbs responded.
"This keeps getting better and better."
"How tall is he?"
"About his height," the man offered and gestured in McGee's direction with a nod of the head.
"Any distinctive markings? Scars? Tattoos maybe?"
"Not that I can think of. Then again I didn't really go looking."
"Age?" McGee asked.
"Again like with the Jeep didn't go rummaging around in his wallet for id."
"You hired him but didn't ask for id?" Tim shot back.
"Hey, man I –"
"How old?" Gibbs snapped at the pub owner.
"Forties. Geez!"
"He speak English?" Gibbs inquired. Maybe the pub owner could confirm McGee's thinking that it was Italian he had heard.
"Uh yeah. Course he does."
"Ever hear him speak anything else?" the team leader asked.
"He knew some Spanish. One night we had a bit of a scene between two customers. They knew some English but mostly talked in Spanish. It got heated and Jack convinced them in Spanish to knock it off or be thrown out."
"Any Italian?"
"Not that I can remember hearing."
"Know where he lives?"
"Up on the hill."
"The hill?"
"Munjoy Hill. Renting a place about a block from the water."
"The name of the street?" Gibbs growled out more as a demand than a question.
"Morning Street I think. Only been there once. Dropped him off one night after he got banged up helping me break up a bit of trouble. Refused to go to the hospital so I drove him home. He weren't in no shape to drive himself. He was half out of it. Got his clock knocked pretty hard."
"Where on Morning Street?" Gibbs sniped with his irritation at the man now clearly at its boiling point.
"Right on the corner on the bay end of the street. White building. And no I don't know the street number."
"Let's go McGee."
"Wait Boss. What about the cameras?" Tim questioned and pointed to the camera mounted up in the corner near the end of the bar. The more senior agent checked himself internally. He was starting to go off the rails like he did when a case was real personal. He had actually missed the camera because he had been so focused on getting something out of Seavey. Gibbs tossed his head in a go ahead kind of way.
"The cameras work?" McGee asked Seavey.
"Checked it with the last round of questioning last night. Jack set them up for me. That was the one part of his job he didn't do because the cameras work but apparently he never bothered to connect them to the recorder. So this whole time they were never recording nothin'."
"Can I take a look anyway?" McGee asked hope filled. Maybe there was something.
"Knock yourself out but there's nothing there. Not one minute of recorded video."
"Appreciate it!" McGee responded as both he and Gibbs trailed the pub owner into the back room.
"Right down here in the office," Seavey said as they followed him through the backroom along shelves of supplies and cases of beverages and food containers.
"Cutter work at all back here?" Gibbs inquired.
"Yeah. Like I said man of many hats."
"What are you thinking Boss?" Tim asked him but his question fell at the wayside as the team leader asked the pub owner another inquiry.
"He wear gloves a lot?"
"Sometimes. Why?"
"Because maybe he left some fingerprints or DNA behind."
"Now just hold up there. I answered your questions. I was willing to let you look at the security cameras but fingerprints and DNA that's where I draw the line. I think I want the two of you to leave now. You want anything else then I want to see paperwork like a warrant."
"It would be a big help to us. And we would be very grateful if we might be able to do it. We could do it quickly and quietly to the best of our ability," Tim offered in an attempt to smooth things over.
"Didn't I just tell you to leave?" Seavey replied. He had stopped right in front of the open office door. It was clear they weren't getting any further.
"Come on McGee. Bruce here needs a time out."
"Right behind ya Boss!" the younger man responded. As he trailed Gibbs through the doorway out onto the street he pulled out his phone and began bringing up a map of the local area and searched for the street they were going to next.
"Which way McGee?"
"East of our location. Pull out of the parking spot and up at the light take a left. But Boss maybe Seavey has a point. Maybe we should get warrants on the bar and the apartment first. If we don't it could end up inadmissible in court," McGee answered.
Gibbs listened to his senior field agent. The reply he wanted to say which included something along the lines of Oh! But it will be admissible in my court of law. I'll be happy to be judge, jury and executioner.
Gibbs knew he was straying farther and farther off the rails. Tim was good at keeping procedures and other similar details at the forefront of his mind as where Gibbs tended to get locked down on the more immediate tangible goal. He knew what the younger agent said was true. He didn't like it but maybe if they could get it quickly it wouldn't hold them back too long and pay off later.
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Making his way through the maze of desks in the squad room Danny St. Clair glanced at his watch. He and his partner, Ethan Nickerson, had been tied up on the Bennett case and his superiors were pushing to keep on it since it was all over the news. There was pressure from the mayor's office to get this squared away fast so they could reassure the public that all was well in their city.
He would have to find a good excuse to slip away soon. He still needed to place the tracking device on Cutter's Jeep. He had vaguely asked the store owner with the camera to keep an eye on the vehicle and if he saw anyone approach it to give him a call. He had disguised the favor with a vague reference that it was for a minor case. It was the only way he could keep an eye on the Jeep since he and Nickerson had been pulled into the boss' office and given the command to wrap up the Bennett case like yesterday.
But planting the bird dog and meeting Billy who would be arriving shortly couldn't be put off so he was going to have to get creative and find a valid excuse to leave – one that didn't include needing his partner to come along too.
He would have to think of something. Just hopefully sooner than later.
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The streets of Portland were still a bit busy as Tobias Fornell finally found a parking spot. He maneuvered the rented Honda into the position and cut the engine. Climbing out he slammed the driver's side door and silently cursed the vehicle. He had only been in possession of it for a short while but he already knew he despised it. Especially in the leg room department he thought as he started to make his way up to the sidewalk. His legs were definitely cramped up. But beggars couldn't be choosers and it was what the airport rental place had available on short notice.
Now up on the sidewalk he headed northward. He had parked his vehicle a ways from where he and Tony were due to meet. With Gibbs around it was better to move on foot the last part of the trek. Tobias subtly scanned the street, the sidewalk, and the buildings as he moved along at a casual pace. If he caught any sign that he was being watched or followed he would have to abort. But so far it looked acceptable.
He did up another button on his black tench coat. The large envelope he had tucked inside it had shifted and was nearly visible. The envelope contained several things including cash and fake identification documents that he would hand off to Dinozzo.
It hadn't taken much for Fornell to find out where Gibbs had raced off to and why. Before he even had to go looking he had heard a news report on the discovery of Devon Davis' body. Then it was just a matter of tapping a few sources to find out about the flight to Pease Air National Guard base in New Hampshire then the rented sedan to Portland, Maine which Gibbs and his team had taken. They were now booked at a hotel downtown.
Trying to hide from Gibbs didn't end well for most people. So there was a fair chance he would have to show himself to the NCIS agent at some point. If need be Fornell would go to Gibbs and be a distraction while DiNozzo slipped out of town. But first he needed to meet with Tony while Gibbs still wasn't aware of his presence. Even if Gibbs had been on the lookout for him travel wise Fornell had used an alias for the flight and the rental. At the very least he needed to sneak in the meet with DiNozzo before Gibbs knew he was there because the last thing they needed was for Fornell to lead Gibbs right to Tony. Fornell needed time to lay out the three exit strategies he had devised and then enact one.
Someone leaned against the wall in a doorway up ahead drew his attention but then lost it again when the man straightened up and went into the apartment looking building. He continued on and at the next corner he took a left down the side street he needed. Torry Street was slightly less busy but still had a car here and there and some foot traffic. He was visually scanning the buildings up ahead when his body was jolted from the right side. Taken by surprise he nearly went for his gun. A person in a hooded jacket, jeans and a baseball cap had bumped into his shoulder. As the person stepped ahead of him they quietly tossed a few words back over their shoulder in Fornell's direction. Only they weren't words of apology for bumping into him.
"Follow me at a distance!" the voice of Anthony DiNozzo Jr. instructed. Then the hooded figure moved ahead on the sidewalk just as swiftly as he had arrived.
To Be Continued...
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Thank You Everyone For Reading!
I am oh so excited about the next upcoming chapter!
(And yes that's all the preview you get ahead of time.)