Wednesday night:

'...but I don't think she had anything to do with it. And I couldn't get in touch with the last witness on my list – Dana O'Rourke's husband told me she was supervising a school trip to Colonial Williamsburg.'

'Ok. Follow up tomorrow.'

'Will do, Boss.'

'What about the e-mail, McGee?'

Tim looked up at Gibbs, who was sitting in the only chair in the room. Tony was perched on the desk, his legs swinging like a little kid. Tim himself was sitting up against the headboard of his bed. He'd been given the largest of the rooms available at the little motel, because he needed a place to set up the computer equipment he needed. It also meant that team conferences tended to happen here. He'd been kept awake the night before by the lingering odour of the pizza Tony had insisted on ordering, even though it was after ten by the time they got a chance to sit down and hash out the case. At least tonight they'd eaten at a local diner before coming back here to talk in private.

'I still haven't cracked the password on her work account, Boss. And it looks like she didn't keep read messages in her personal account. There were a couple of new emails, but that was it. Two of them were junk – that Nigerian bank scam, and an ad for 'male enhancement'...'

Tony snorted.

'...someone called Charlie sent a broadcast message to a few dozen people asking if anyone wanted a kitten, and Dana O'Rourke wanted the recipe for the cake she brought to a potluck two days before she was killed.'

'So we've still got nothing.'

Tim met Tony's eyes across the room, neither of them willing to say it.

'Ok. McGee, I want you to get that box of evidence to Abby first thing in the morning. And hopefully you'll be able to get into that email once you're back at your desk. If I need you back here, I'll call.'

Tim nodded, readily agreeing to any assignment that had him returning to civilisation. And Gibbs was right that he'd have a much better chance of cracking the password on Petty Officer Black's work e-mail account if he had the full resources of NCIS at his disposal, rather than just his field kit.

'DiNozzo, you and I will finish up with the interviews here and see where we are.'

Tony nodded less enthusiastically, clearly displeased about not being sent home himself. Gibbs dismissed him with a distracted goodnight, rising from his own chair. Tony pushed himself off of the desk and headed for the door.

To Tim's surprise, Gibbs didn't immediately follow. Instead, he came over and perched on the edge of the bed.

Tim instinctively pulled himself a little straighter, responding unconsciously to the memory of his father doing the same thing.

'Uh... Boss?'

'Would you like to tell me why you've been lying to me, Tim?'