Chapter 12:

They pulled the hire car into the driveway of a lowset, small, cream-coloured house with a well-manicured lawn and flowers in beds placed neatly around the house and fence.

"Are you ready for this?" Gibbs asked him after turning off the car. "You can stay in the car if you want. I am happy to do this alone if you have changed your mind."

Tony shook his head, "No, I'm ready. And I know, no talking, no touching and no mental breakdowns," he smiled weakly at Gibbs, "I'm good."

"Ok, lets go."

They both exited the vehicle and made their way up to the front door. It was answered before they even had the chance to ring the bell.

An elderly woman in her 80s or 90s, still very healthy looking, answered the door, "Are you the Agents coming to talk about our Julie?" she asked. You could tell from the glint of hope in her eyes that she had never gotten over the death of her child and had been waiting 40 some years to have answers and maybe justice.

"Yes ma'am we are. I'm Special Agent Gibbs and this is Special Agent DiNozzo with NCIS. Are you Doreen Sullivan?" Both agents flashed their credentials but the woman hardly looked at them.

"Have you found him? Have you found who murdered my little girl?" She clutched her necklace in her left hand, a locket that no doubt held a photo of her beloved daughter.

"Let them in mum," a man in his 60's came up behind her and gently moved her out of the agents way, "Please, gentlemen, come in."

Gibbs and Tony entered the dated but neatly and tastefully decorated home. Tony noticed photos on the walls shelves and mantle but was not quite ready to look any further. He watched the woman who was his grandmother, looking for any little nuances that he could link to himself. Introductions were made, "Hi I'm George and this is my brother Harry and you have met my mother Doreen." Gibbs took a seat on the couch next to Harry who also looked to be in his late 60's and Tony stood back against a wall, not wanting to draw attention but able to listen to the conversation. Doreen and George took the two armchairs opposite the couch.

"You have some news on our sister's murder?" asked Harry. With a start Tony realised he was looking at his uncles. He was prepared for his grandmother, but for some reason the two uncles had thrown him. Did he used to call them Uncle George and Uncle Harry? Or were they those cool uncles who insisted on calling them by their names and not the moniker Uncle. Did he used to play peek-a-boo with them?

"Well we came across your sister's case when we were running some background checks on a case we are working on. We think we may have a suspect."

The woman closed her eyes, "Thank you Jesus," she said quietly. Gibbs had a feeling she had had many conversations with Jesus in these past years.

"Can you tell us anything about Julie and her family?" Gibbs asked the three people in general.

"She was my angel, my beautiful little girl. She was so funny and would give her shirt off her back to anyone. She was so protective of those she loved, she watched over the little brothers like a mother bear and when she had Michael, it was like she had found another level of love."

Tony's heart leapt in his chest … was he Michael?

"And Michael was her only child?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes, he was her only child." Doreen's eyes drifted up to a photo on the mantle. From where Tony was he could see the photo was that of a smiling woman holding a toddler, smiles beaming from both of their faces. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he realised he was looking into the eyes of his mother and himself. His head spun. "We found out after the autopsy that she was pregnant though; about 4 months. We didn't know, we don't even know if she knew although at 4 months …" Doreen drifted off, lost in fantastical thoughts of what her other grandchild would have been like."

Tony couldn't help but wonder if his father knew. Could that be why he killed her? Did another child complicate his life further? He could see that one child could cramp his serial killer lifestyle so surely two would put an end to it. Maybe he just didn't want more children … did he not want Tony? Actually, Michael – did he not want Michael?

He had to get himself under control; he had to pull himself together. He dropped his head and took some deep breaths to try and calm himself.

"Are you ok?" Asked George, noting Tony's distress. "Would you like some water?"

Tony looked up, worried if he answered he would have to deal with Gibbs wrath when they left but the room had started spinning and it wasn't looking like it was about to stop, "No I'm fine … just still getting over a bit of travel sickness. That's all."

"George, take him into the kitchen and get him a cold drink," Doreen said, "He is pale as a ghost the poor boy." She shot Tony a lovely smile that showed so much concern for a total stranger, he could only imagine how much love she had shown him as a child. He didn't want to leave the conversation but he was feeling a little faint to be honest.

He followed George into the kitchen but didn't miss the warning look Gibbs shot him as he left the room.

"Here take a seat," George indicated a round table with four vinyl chairs around, looking to be from the 70's.

George went to the fridge and grabbed out a pitcher of drink and a glass from the cupboard. "Hope you like lemonade. Mum made it herself; she makes the best lemonade. My wife has tried to replicate it but she just can't get it quite right."

"You are married?" Tony asked, trying to not break the rules but curious about his newfound family members.

"Yep, 35 years now. Four kids and now six grandkids with another on the way."

Tony worked out the relationship in his mind, four cousins and six second cousins (are they second cousins or cousins once removed – he could never work that out).

"I'm sorry about your sister, that must have been hard on your mother." Tony knew he was skirting Gibbs rules but he couldn't just sit hear and not talk like some weirdo. George was already shooting Tony strange looks.

"It was, but I have to hand it too her, she is a strong woman, hasn't stopped hoping they would find who did it."

"And your father? Is he still around?" My grandfather?

"My dad passed away almost thirty years ago now, it basically killed him; losing her. Julie was his little princess, he loved her - don't get me wrong, he loved us too – it's just he had something special with Julie. When she died he just became a shell of a man, he died only 5 years later. I am convinced he died of a broken heart." George took a sip of his lemonade, lost in his memories. "He found her you know. They hadn't heard from her for a few days and when she didn't turn up for their Saturday lunch he went over to her place … and there she was. I can't even imagine finding your child like that."

"And her son?" Tony asked, not making eye contact, not wanting to give any hint as to how important this answer was to him.

"Gone along with her husband. We assume he took him with him. Well we hope that is what he did with him. Don't even want to entertain the alternatives. Michael was such a pistol! He was the first grandchild so he could do no wrong in mom and dad's eyes. Our little Christmas gift dad called him."

Tony frowned, "Why was that?"

"He was born at eight in the evening on Christmas eve. We all agree he was the best present we ever got."

Tony did a quick calculation in his head, 6 months different to his current 'birthday', but which way, was he older or younger?

"And how old was he when he disappeared? Four wasn't it?" He knew she was found dead in the November of '72.

"Not quite, he was about to turn 4 when he …"

Younger, I am six months younger!

"Hell we don't even know if he is alive. He was declared dead after 20 years but we just don't know. I mean was he killed too? Why murder your wife and then take your kid on the run with you? What kind of life is that for him. But what kind of man could kill his own child … I don't know what would be worse for him. He was such a sweet kid, had a heart of gold just like Julie, I think that is one of the hardest things we have lived with all these years, never knowing what happened to little Michael. Hoping he never took after his father."

I'm right here Uncle George. But of course he didn't say it.

"I have to ask, have you found that bastard?" George asked.

Tony cleared his throat, he wanted to give this man some hope, but he was also a Federal Agent and he knew the rules. "I'm sorry, we can't discuss an ongoing investigation."

George nodded his head, "I understand, but promise me this, if you find the bastard, make sure he rots in prison for the rest of his miserable life, what ever is left of it. Not just for us, but for Michael too."

Tony could only nod, not trusting his voice as his throat closed up from the pent up emotions.

"DiNozzo, are you ready?" Gibbs called from the lounge room.

Tony jumped up, "Yes boss."

They said their goodbyes, promising to keep the family in the loop and took their leave.

"What happened in the kitchen?" Gibbs asked when they were in the privacy of the car.

Tony looked out the passenger window of the car as Gibbs pulled out of the driveway, "I found out my birthday and the good news is I am six months younger than I thought. And I am a Capricorn … I think it's Capricorn, or is it Sagittarius?"

Tony looked over at Gibbs, "I didn't say anything"

Gibbs nodded, and handed Tony a large buff envelope, "Here, this is for you."

Tony took the envelope and opened it to find a copy of the photo from the mantle. "They gave you this?" he asked.

"Printed out a copy, Harry has digitalised them or something."

"Digitized."

"What ever. I asked if I could get a copy of the photo for our file and he printed it out for me. I figure we don't really need it for the file."

Tony stared at his mother, "Thanks Gibbs." This time he didn't bother hiding the catch in his throat.