Chapter 9
Sacks, Fornell, and Gibbs stood in the darkened room observing the woman; Ziva and McGee stood behind them while Dornigan guarded the door. She barely moved the entire time she was in the room. She didn't look nervous but her eyes missed nothing, revealing volumes about her nature. It was like she was calculating and recalculating every possible scenario right down to the last possible detail. "Who is she again, Gibbs?" Fornell asked.
"Tony's mother. His biological mother."
Ziva and McGee looked at each other, still trying to comprehend what they had learned, even though they had heard it now twice.
"I'll ask for proof later; right now, what does she have to do with this case?"
"She's your thief."
"You're gonna have to explain that to me, again."
The door opened and in walked three more people: Abby, Ducky and Palmer. Abby asked, "Is it true? We heard rumors that you have the cat burglar in custody?"
Ziva answered, "We have a woman but she has neither admitted nor denied involvement in the jewelry heist."
"I heard she was Tony's mother," Palmer said a tad too joyfully, "which is strange because I thought his mother died when he was a boy."
There was one thing Gibbs didn't need right now, and that was a bunch of comments from untrained people. He glared at them, feeling protective for his agent's privacy.
Ducky recognized the look and said, "Why don't we take are concerns elsewhere."
Sacks was amazed that one three second look was all it took to clear the room of three people. He'd have to practice that.
In the hallway, Abby suggested, "Let's go back to my lab. I have video access to the interrogation rooms. It's not the same as seeing it in person, but it's the best we've got."
Ducky ushered them along because if his gut was right, Jethro would be down trying to find answers to questions he didn't know he had yet.
Upon their exit, Gibbs took that as his cue to begin the interview. He wasn't looking forward to it, so he kept telling himself that she was just an ordinary person, like anybody else with information about a case he was working. But inside, he knew she was so much more.
As he entered the room, his belly fluttered, unveiling a long overdue or deeply suppressed amorous sensation that he hadn't felt in years. Her eyes were acutely aware of his presence and she watched his every move, studying him, assessing him. He got it now. How she was capable of seducing men; even from across the room, he felt the chemistry. If he had eyes in the observation room or Abby's lab, he'd have seen that everyone else felt the sparks as well. This was not his way. He had never used an interrogation room in this way before and he wasn't about to start now.
Squashing all feelings but that of a lead investigator, he sat down opposite her and studied her a long minute. He observed that she never flinched under the scrutiny; in fact, Gibbs was sure she was doing to him what he was doing to her, sizing him up. "Why are you here, Ms. Vochelli?"
"I heard rumors that Anthony DiNozzo, Jr. was being accused of stealing the jewels belonging to Prince Jigme Wangchuk of Bhutan. Is that true?"
Preferring to be one who asked the questions, Gibbs countered, "What can you tell me about that theft?"
"I can tell you that he didn't do it."
"And why is that?"
She didn't answer the question, easily deflecting it in favor of her own, "Why do you think he did?"
Gibbs wasn't sure if volleying back and forth with this woman would produce anything meaningful. She was too smart to fall into one of his traps and they both knew it. Two things were pleasing him at the moment, even if it was only by a small margin. The first was looking at her. She was by any man's measure, a very beautiful female. She and Tony shared some physical attributes, like the shape of their eyes and the color of their hair. Tony even had her smile, the one that was genuine and included her eyes. However, Gibbs suspected most of the similarities to his mother occurred on a cognitive level. The second thing that pleased him was the love she held for her son. He could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice whenever she mentioned his name.
She was too cool and composed to reveal anything she didn't want to, and it was evident to anyone watching. But Gibbs knew there was one way, and one way only, to throw this woman off a beat. He asked, "Would you like to talk to him?"
She froze, not expecting to be asked such a question. Slightly, almost minutely, the controlled façade peeled back a layer. "I don't think that would be a good idea."
"Why? You say he didn't steal the jewels, the FBI says he did. Maybe you could help his defense."
"I'll be long gone before it gets to that point."
Gibbs studied her inflection and asked, "Why don't you want to meet him?"
She looked sad when she responded, "Because some things just shouldn't happen."
"Like being introduced to your own son?"
She barely moved a muscle at his words, but he could tell her brain was working fast and furious. Finally, she leaned forward and whispered, "He doesn't know about me."
"He knows now. His father told him about you this morning."
"Anthony is in town?"
"He was. He left already."
She leaned back again, although she seemed different now. Like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. A glint of hope twinkled behind those green eyes and she asked, "How'd he take the news?"
Gibbs didn't answer. If she wanted to know that, she could find out for herself, in person. He closed his folder and left.
Chapter 10
Tony arrived mid morning to find the bullpen vacant of people. His mind was anything but on his work and he couldn't stop thinking about this newfound knowledge. His mother wasn't really his mother; his father was his father, but the woman who gave birth to him and the woman who raised him were two entirely different people. He felt numb and nauseous, thankful his colleagues were not around to see his confusion. He immediately sat down and started doing a search of the woman his father claimed was his mother. He found nothing on the name Dolcita Vochelli. How could he find nothing? Because if she was who his father said she was, she would be extremely adept at hiding her true identity.
McGee stopped when he saw his colleague at his desk. He half thought, half hoped, that Tony wouldn't come into the office today given the circumstances, but now he was going to come face to face with him. He was never good at hiding his feelings, especially hiding them from him. He suddenly remembered his boss' last orders: Phone him the minute he came in.
"Hey," Tony said, looking up in time to see the computer geek's mouth agape, "where is everybody?"
"They… are… around." He pulled out his phone and texted a message to Ziva.
"What does that mean?" Tony huffed, slowly sensing that McGee knew something.
In the darkened observation room, Ziva read her message, "McGee just sent a text; Tony is at his desk."
Gibbs looked at Fornell and Sacks, almost daring one of them to move. Satisfied they were staying put, he said, "Tell McGee to take Tony to the conference room." Ziva was surprised but sent the message anyways. Gibbs simply said, "I'll be back. Then, we'll put them together."
"Doesn't that break every rule in the handbook," Sacks pointed out.
"Maybe your handbook, not mine."
**************************************8
Tony stood outside the interrogation room with his hand on the door handle. Once he opened it, he could never go back. When Gibbs told him they had a woman claiming to be Dolcita Vochelli in interrogation room 1, he didn't believe it. Standing there now, wanting to go inside but not being able to, he still didn't believe it. Maybe he could study her through the observation glass, but looking over he saw Gibbs blocking that door, his body set. It was this door or nothing. He leaned his forehead against it, debating whether or not to open it. His gut told him to run and never look back. His mind wanted answers. Before he could rationalize his actions, he found himself staring at a woman he'd never seen before, and never even knew existed until a few hours ago.
He finally let the door close behind him, and when that happened, the walls felt like they were closing in on him. Maybe this was a bad idea. He didn't know what to say, or where to begin, or even how to feel. The room was so small that he suddenly realized that he wasn't ready for such an encounter. He didn't have a chance to check his emotions or find out where he stood with his newfound knowledge, and that was a dangerous mix of uncertainty. He instinctively reached back for the doorknob, but her voice stopped him, "Don't leave," she whispered, "please."
He let the first words she'd spoken to him linger in the air as he gazed at her. Her eyes were pleading with him to stay and he watched as she controlled some sort of impulse, like wanting to come to him, touch him, hug him even. He wasn't ready for any of that. He felt himself biting his upper lip, a nervous reaction he'd had since he was a boy. Swallowing, he softly replied, "I don't know why I came here."
She smiled at him, warmly and lovingly. She didn't dare approach him even though she yearned to touch him, comfort him. A mother's instinct. "Do you know who I am?"
He nodded his head; he knew. He saw too much of himself in those green eyes.
"I am the reason you're the prime suspect in a crime."
Tony took a step backwards, not wanting to hear any more. He would have given anything for time to back up one full day and for this to all go away. Biting his lip to keep his composure, he looked away.
Even Sacks felt for a tiny pang for the man. And if he felt like that, he could only imagine what his colleagues were feeling.
Eventually, Tony murmured, "Are you Dolcita Vochelli?"
She nodded, hopeful that he'd find it in his heart to accept the things he could not change. "I am."
He let the answer sink in, and then asked, "Did you know my father?"
"I did. I knew him very well at one time."
"Are you—," he stopped suddenly, then whispered, "Are you my mother?"
She could see the pain in his expression and the last thing she had ever wanted to do was hurt him. She took a step forward but stopped when he took a step backwards. "Tony, there is so much more to this story than a simple yes. You have no idea—"
"—YOU have no idea!" he cut across her words. "You don't come waltzing into my life after years—"
"I am not making a sudden appearance!" she countered. "I've been in your life since the day you were born! The hardest thing I ever did was to give you up, but it was the only thing I could do."
Tony avoided her, keeping his distance as the nervousness permeated his body and his muscles involuntarily took over his arms and legs. "So it's all true. You stole the jewels."
In the small dark and crowded room, Gibbs nodded to the board operator. Sacks objected, "You can't turn off the camera! We may get a confession!"
"It's my interrogation room; I can do whatever I want."
"Then we'll take her to the FBI!" he demanded.
Fornell put a hand on his agent's shoulder and said, "Take it easy. We have a front row seat and I'm not about to miss this."
Dolcita didn't directly answer the question. Instead she folded her hands delicately in front of her and softly said, "Can I tell you a story?" She waited, sensing his anger dissipating by small increments. "Will you sit down?" She asked, seeing his nerves taking over. "Please?" she whispered.
He did, uneasily, his nervous energy making it difficult to remain still.
She sat down across from him and lowered her voice, "Once upon a time there was a baby born into a family of thieves. Not just any thieves, but world class professional thieves. There wasn't anything that they wouldn't steal, or couldn't steal. But the mother knew what kind of a life into which her son was being born. The life had its drawbacks: a life on the run, never putting down roots, and always looking over your shoulder, not to mention always looking for that next big challenge."
"Stop telling me a damn story! Tell me about you! Tell me—" he felt the air leave his lungs, "tell me… why?"
Dolcita glanced at the camera, noticing for the first time the light was out. She had no idea that half a dozen people were hanging onto her every word, but she knew she owed her son an explanation. "I had to give you up, Tony. I'm a thief, like my father before me is a thief, and my grandfather before him is a thief and his father before him was a thief. Don't you see? Everybody in my family steals for a living. It's in our blood and it's a way of life for us. If I had kept you, you'd be stealing along side of me like I stole alongside my father, and he stole alongside his father. The cycle had to be broken and when I was presented with the opportunity to break it, I took it. And I thank God every day for your father and his wife, Elizabeth, who took you and loved you every bit as much as I could. They gave you a life that I never could have given you."
Tony's jaw clenched and unclenched as he listened. "But how could you just give me away?"
"You make it sound like it was an easy thing to do. It wasn't. It was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. But what you don't know is that I've never left you. I was there on your first day of school, and I watched you play soccer and baseball, and I watched you graduate from high school, and go on to play basketball for Ohio State, and I watched you make it into the final four in the NCAA tournament. I watched you graduate from college and I saw many of the wonderful times you had in your life. I was also there for the not so wonderful times, like when Elizabeth died, and when you tore up your knee and couldn't go pro, and when Wendy broke off your engagement, and when you almost died from that deadly plague. I was there, Tony. I saw it all. And I have prayed for you every single night of every single day since the day you were born. And I have cried so many times at not being able to hold you, or guide you or show you how much I love you. But I couldn't let you know I was alive. I couldn't ever go there, as much as it pained me, you could never know about me."
Tony stared at her as a single tear threatened to spill over her lid. She was obviously a woman accustomed to being in control, and this was a new experience for her. She swiped at it before resuming her composure, but she couldn't hide the pain on her face or the emptiness in her heart. But none of these conditions assuaged his confusion, and she could see that. "I have something that may explain a lot." She pulled a small piece of paper from her pocket and held it up. "Do you know what this is?"
Tony looked at it and shook his head.
She slowly unfolded the paper and displayed a small wisp of hair. "This is the lock of hair I asked a nurse to give me when you were just one day old. I carry it with me everywhere I go. I've never been without it. It's my way of holding you. A tiny strand must have fallen out on my last job, which is why they came after you. I'm terribly sorry to have been so careless as to let something like this happen."
Tony couldn't even pretend he understood what she had done, but he knew one thing for certain. She had just admitted to stealing the jewels, and if Fornell and Sacks were watching, which he'd bet his last dollar they were, she would be escorted from the premises and locked up for the rest of her life and he'd never see her again. His pent up energy got the better of him and paced to the corner of the room.
She looked longingly at him. The subtle lines of aging around her eyes served her well and now he saw her again, for the first time. She wasn't just a woman sitting there, articulate and vulnerable, she was a mother. She was his mother, and he suspected she had just given it all up for him. Something only a mother would do. He may not be able to understand it, and he may never get to the point of accepting it, but right now, he felt a connection to her that he'd never felt with anyone else. He had no choice but to open his arms and give her the embrace she'd waited decades to get.
"There it is, Jethro," Fornell said. "She just admitted to being the cat burglar. We're going to have to arrest her."
Gibbs worried more about Tony than he did about the woman. Every thief knows his time is limited, but not every child accepts the fate of a parent.
Ducky put an arm around Abby having seen a tear glisten down the side of her face. Even Ziva turned away, thankful for the darkened room, and wiped away a tear.
TBC: Thanks for all the encouraging comments. I'm trying to wrap the story up since I'm on a personal quest to write more succinct stories.