Well I am officially back from vacation(We left at four o clock this morning, it was miserable), so to celebrate, Here is chapter 11! Things are really starting to heat up now. Oh, and UnstoppableForce *Gibbsslap* That's for the comment about me being lost for words!

Now that I got that moment of violence out of my system, it's question time. Out of curiosity, how do you think that Tony's mother died? Any and all possibilities welcome. And do you think we'll ever figure out how she died? Unless of course it was already revealed and I just missed it. If that's the case, feel free to ignore this question.

And now, onward!

Eleven

Jethro watched DiNozzo across the bullpen. The man had truly terrible typing skills. Jethro hated technology with a fiery passion, but watching somebody as young as DiNozzo two finger type a single word per minute was just… sad.

After another few minutes, DiNozzo picked up Burley's phone. Jethro waited for an update, but DiNozzo didn't look like he was even paying attention to him. "Hi, this is Detective DiNozzo from Baltimore P.D. Is," he paused, his eyes closing as he tried to suppress a laugh, "Anita Hooker there?" He was able to cover his mouth just in time before he choked a laugh out.

"Yes, I'll hold," he mumbled through his hand.

Jethro scratched his chin. His hand was blocking his own grin. True, it was just a name, but he couldn't help feeling bad for a woman named Anita Hooker. That rated right up there with Seymour Butts.

"Miss Hooker!" DiNozzo finally uncovered his mouth. "Hi, I'm Detective DiNozzo, I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of questions?" He leaned back in Burley's seat, waiting for a reply. "Well, to be honest, a face to face meeting would be better."

That was good. If DiNozzo took this woman's statement over the phone, then Jethro would have to smack him again. Granted, he did owe the young man for that slap he gave to Jethro earlier. But that could wait.

"Well, if you could meet me at the Navy Yard in Washington?" DiNozzo nodded. "Yeah, I'm currently working a case with NCIS." He smirked. "The Naval Criminal Investigative Service. Yeah, if I wasn't a cop I wouldn't know what they were either." Jethro rolled his eyes while DiNozzo laughed. "That's great. I will see you tomorrow at ten, then." He hung up.

Jethro waited for DiNozzo to talk, to tell him what the hell that was about and what it had to do with the case. But the man wasn't saying a word. He went back to his obnoxiously slow typing.

Finally, Jethro got fed up. "Hey!" He yelled.

DiNozzo barely spared him a glance. "Yes Gibbs?"

"What was that about?"

The younger man stood up from Burley's desk and crossed the room. Jethro considered that a good thing. He knew not to just shout across the bullpen. "Anita Hooker is an old client of Mr. Tatum. I'm meeting her tomorrow to see if she has the same negative things to say about his services."

Jethro shook his head. "Why?"

DiNozzo smiled. "How much do Marines make?"

Jethro shrugged. "Depends on rank and years of service."

DiNozzo rolled his eyes. "McCane's a corporal, served for four years in a six year hitch."

"Less than two thousand a month."

"Seriously?" He sounded very appalled by that number. "I make more."

"Your point, DiNozzo?" Jethro asked exasperatedly.

The cop rolled his eyes. "Anita Hooker, and yes that is her actual name," he chuckled again, but stopped when he saw Jethro's glare. "Sorry. She's a trust fund baby. Has a couple million saved up in the bank. Now, she paid Marcus Tatum fifty grand, upfront, for her job."

It all clicked into place. "Tatum either took all her money and ran too—"

DiNozzo finished for him. "Or he took McCane's measly money and split." He grinned widely, far too proud of himself.

"Or," Jethro started for no other reason than to wipe that grin off his damn face. "He just couldn't find Jamie."

DiNozzo scoffed. "I found Jamie outside my apartment, how hard could it be for a P.I. to locate the kid?"

"I couldn't find him."

The young cop actually had the nerve to look surprised. "Are you actually admitting that? Out loud? Did Hell just freeze over, or did I stumble into an alternate universe?"

"Keep talking like that and I'll knock you into another universe."

DiNozzo rolled his eyes. "I pulled Tatum's phone records. He made three calls from Baltimore a month ago. Which is the same time that McCane hired him. What was he doing in Baltimore if it wasn't tracking down Jamie Taylor? And if he found him…" he trailed off.

Jethro stood up. He hated to admit it, but the kid definitely had a point. "What happened to make him run?" He stared at the plasma screen. Marcus Tatum's driver's license picture stared back at him. "That's good work."

"Thanks Gibbs."

He turned around and glared. "You find Tatum yet?"

He watched as the proud grin faded from DiNozzo's face. Cruel? Maybe a little, but DiNozzo had a big enough ego as it was, Jethro wasn't about to let it get any bigger.

"Still working on it. All three of his phones have been disconnected."

"Track his movements." Jethro moved back to his desk.

"Already did, Gibbs." Jethro whirled back around at DiNozzo's words. "The guy hasn't used a credit card or jumped on a highway in three weeks. He's practically disappeared off the face of the earth."

Well that was interesting. What could have happened to make a man disappear like that? "Go check out his home." He sat down in his chair. He resisted the urge to wipe his tired face.

"By myself?"

That made him jump back up. "Is there a problem with that? Or are you just completely incapable of questioning somebody alone?"

DiNozzo stepped forward till he was mere inches from Jethro. "Is there a reason you insist on questioning everything that I do?" He was seething, but he managed to keep his voice low. "I know I screwed up with Jamie, but I've also been the one to figure out most of the case so far. Something that you have clearly failed to do, or I wouldn't be here in the first place!" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jethro reared back and slapped him in the back of the head. DiNozzo huffed. "I'm tired and in pain and I'm not in the mood to deal with your crap."

Jethro sighed heavily. He knew that all of that was true. And he could believe that DiNozzo was in pain. You don't get into a fight with a Marine and not come out feeling sore. He looked out the picture windows at the edge of the bullpen. The sky turned pink as the sun slowly settled in for the night. It had been a long day, and even longer for DiNozzo. Jethro was at least able to sleep last night. DiNozzo was working on a half hour, while trying to sober up.

"When you're done with Tatum's place, go to a hotel, get some sleep. I'll pay." He didn't know why he offered that. He wasn't thinking of offering it, but apparently his mouth had ideas of its own.

The anger slowly dimmed from DiNozzo's eyes. In its place was relief, and a sly smirk. "I prefer my own bed, boss." He stepped away and started heading for the elevators.

Jethro felt a pang in his chest. "You used to not care."

DiNozzo shrugged, his back still to the older man. "People change." The elevator arrived and DiNozzo slid in between the mass of people.

Jethro sat down with a huff. DiNozzo didn't change for no reason. And Jethro put that off for long enough. He should have known better. But he wanted to believe that the man would be ok. Hell, he wanted to believe that he hadn't failed.

But he did. He failed to protect DiNozzo. Jethro was virtually over what had happened back in February. True, it hurt to think about, but what was taking to longest to fade was his guilt. He couldn't save DiNozzo. He failed him.

As he booted up his computer he made the decision. He wasn't going to fail him again.

.

Dennis tried to avoid acting like a tourist as he drove onto the Marine base. He was here for a job, he had to be professional. He showed the guard out front his badge, and—unfortunately—had to ask for directions.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Lea stare around at everything, a look of awe on her young face. Dennis tried to hide the smirk, but to no avail. Damn it, he could never stay mad at her.

"So when I go pick up Julia Chike, you're not gonna say a word, right?"

Lea rolled her eyes. "Den, I have picked up hookers before. It's pretty much in a beat cop's job description."

"She isn't just a hooker, Lea. She's also the witness in a homicide."

She was quiet for a moment, although he did notice that she rolled her eyes again. "So," she stared. "We're meeting Stan here, right?"

He glared at her, but otherwise didn't answer.

She smiled brightly at him. "Does this mean I get to meet him?"

He shook his head. "What part of 'over' did you miss the first time I said it?"

"I think it was the 'V.' Those always screw me up. I mean, every time I see a 'V' I automatically think of one your 'W's.'" She paused as she scratched her head. "Come to think of it, why is called a double 'U'? I mean, it actually looks more like a 'V'. Why isn't it called a double 'V' instead?"

"How did you pass your psych evaluation?"

"Setley thought that my annoying attention to detail would help me be a better cop. Although I often wonder how you managed to get into the Academy. Did you sleep with the recruiting officer?"

He couldn't stop the grin on his face. "Tony did."

She scoffed. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

He ignored that when he saw the black sedan with Government Issued plates in front of him. That must have been Stan. Lea automatically perked up as the blonde man climbed out of the car. "Ooh, is that him? He's a cutie. And definitely a much better fit for you than what's his name."

"Stop talking, or so help me." He pulled the car over and put it in park.

Lea jumped out of the car before he even pulled the key out. He sighed heavily. This was definitely not good.

"Agent Burley?" She sounded professional, but Dennis still didn't trust her.

"Yeah," Stan said, extending his arm to shake her hand. "And you are?"

Lea took it and gave it a firm shake. "Officer Adley Morgan. I'm Dennis' sister."

"Oh," Stan brightened, his face breaking out in a bright smile. Dennis felt something deep in his chest at the sight, but he couldn't figure out what it was. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise," Lea answered. She stepped back and suddenly she was all business. "So, what's the game plan?" She crossed her arms behind her back and stood at attention. Dennis shook his head.

Stan just stared at her for a few moments before he finally answered. "Well, um, I'm gonna go and pick up Corporal Darklin, and you and Den…" he trailed off. After a second he cleared his throat and continued. "Detective Morgan can pick up Julia Chike."

Lea nodded. "Will we drive back to Washington together, or are we going to meet back up there?"

The blonde man smiled. "I would say we should drive back together. My boss would appreciate it if we arrived at the same time."

"And what's our rendezvous point?"

Stan took a moment to consider that. "How about right outside the gate. That good?"

Lea nodded again, only this time sharper. "Yes sir."

Stan turned to Dennis with a questioning smirk on his face. Dennis just shook his head. He didn't know what else to do. There were just some things he didn't know how to describe. His little sister was one of them.

She turned back and started walking towards the car. Stan slid in behind the wheel of his vehicle and drove off. Dennis climbed back in his seat and drove off for the right address.

He kept glancing at his sister, her face was pressed against the window, trying to absorb as much scenery as she could. The sun was gone and the streets lights were on, giving the homes an almost fantastical glow.

He turned onto 4th Avenue before Lea finally spoke again. "He seems nice."

"He is nice." That was the first thing that attracted Dennis to the older man.

He stopped the car. Lea turned to him as she opened her door, she was trying to look blank, but her smugness was showing through her mask. "He deserves far better than you."

Dennis sighed angrily as he stepped out of the car once more. "Can we stop talking about my personal life for like, five seconds, maybe?"

"Well, I would, except it's been so long since you've had one." She smiled brightly at him. "I'm making up for lost times."

With a shake of his head, he shoved her in the shoulder and continued walking up the path. Before he knocked on the door he took a deep breath to remind himself that he was here for a job. He wasn't taking a trip with his baby sister. He was with a fellow cop to pick up a witness.

The first time he knocked he got no answer. He checked his watch. It was late, but not that late. Besides, weren't prostitutes nocturnal by nature?

He tried knocking again, but he heard nothing from inside the house. No feet moving towards the door, not even a television.

"Maybe she's working," Lea suggested.

Dennis' gut started churning. He didn't know why, but as a cop he learned to always trust his gut. He turned to his sister. "You still know how to pick locks?"

She gave him an incredulous look. "Tony taught me when I was ten, why would I forget something like that?"

He stepped out of the way so she could do her magic. "I'm ignoring that for time purposes."

She crouched down so she was eye level with the lock. "Ignore away."

Thirty-two seconds. That was how long it took her to break through the lock. She huffed. "I'm getting rusty."

Ignoring that as well, Dennis pulled out his gun and turned the door handle. Slowly he stepped inside the house. He turned around to see Lea also had her gun drawn. "You check that half." He pointed towards the kitchen. Lea nodded and slowly made her way through the halls.

Dennis went straight into the living room. Damn. He walked into one hell of a scene.

A woman—probably Julia Chike—lay face down on the ground in a pool of blood. What little clothes she wore were torn. He saw bruising cover half her body, but the one that stood out was the bruise around her ankle. Something broke it.

The room was completely trashed. Julia must have put up a pretty decent fight, considering her injuries.

"Clear!" He heard Lea shout from some other part of the house.

He shouted it back, his eyes glued to the body. He heard footsteps move into the room. They stopped a few feet away from him.

"Holy shit."

"Yeah," he replied, pulling out his cell phone. He hit the speed dial number one. Tony answered after only one ring.

"DiNozzo."

"We got a problem. Julia Chike's been murdered."

Tony sighed. "Yeah, well it gets worse. Gibbs sent me to pick up a P.I. who was hired a few weeks ago to find Jamie."

Dennis scrunched his eyebrows together. How was that worse than finding a key witness bludgeoned to death on the living room floor in a house in Quantico? "What'd you find?"

"A dead body. The P.I. was killed too."

Yeah, that made things worse.

See? Told you things were heating up. Two murders in one chapter. Now that's hinky. Any ideas what's going on? Any idea who the killer might be? Let me know, talk to me!

Bob