Part Seventeen
The evidence was mounting up, but Abby was having fun going through it all. It was nice to have something else to focus on besides the man who may or may not have been following her and, by the end of the day, she'd decided Carol was right – she was overreacting. There'd been no further sighting of him, not even when she'd taken a break and completed a quick, surprise coffee run for the rest of the team.
Her music filled the air of the lab as she danced from machine to machine, gathering results and emailing them off to both Gibbs and Tony as and when she had them. She smiled when she heard the bell of the elevator and moved over to her computer in preparation, tapping lightly on the keyboard to bring up the information she knew he was going to ask for.
She smiled even wider when she felt him move up behind her, the heat of his front against her back and the soft puff of air against her neck where her pigtails left it bare announcement enough of his arrival in the lab.
"What you got for me, Abs?" He asked quietly, his voice a low murmur that made her stomach flip.
"More than I can give you at work," she quipped, looking over her shoulder to shoot him a flirtatious glance. "But... I can also give you a name and an address of the person who killed Lieutenant Sanders, if that would do in the meantime?"
"It'll do." He shifted slightly, one hand moving to rest on the curve of her waist, blocked from the security camera's view by his own body. "I'm probably gonna be late wrapping this one up. Want a rain check on our date?"
Abby turned her head quickly, a little surprised to find him still standing so close to her. "We could change the reservations and make them later?" She offered, a hopeful note in her voice. "I don't mind missing the movie. I've seen it three times already."
"Then why'd you want to go see it again?" Gibbs shook his head before she could answer, dismissing it as an Abby-ism he wouldn't understand. "Never mind. I'll call the restaurant and see if they can put our table back an hour or so."
"I don't mind doing it," she volunteered, hiding none of her happiness at the thought. It was their first real date and she was looking forward to it. She didn't mind spending evenings in, curled up together with the outside world firmly at bay behind locked doors but the thought of going out, of not hiding that they were together, gave her a thrill she hadn't been expecting. "So, back to work, since I know that's what you're thinking..." With a dramatic flourish, she pulled up the results he'd been waiting for. "The first set of DNA on the knife belongs to a Mr. Louis Jones. He has a history of violent behaviour, which kept him from joining the Navy."
"His link to Sanders?" Gibbs asked, leaning forward more than he needed to but enjoying the contact with her too much to stop himself.
"He was married to a Lisa Sanders before she filed a restraining order and divorced him. She happens to be Lieutenant Sander's sister." Abby tilted her head to accept the kiss to her cheek but stopped him before he could walk away. "There's more if you're interested...?"
"Always," he murmured in her ear, making her shiver. His fingers tightened over her hip momentarily and he leaned in to hear the rest.
"Phoebe Marshall, Lieutenant Sanders' fiancée?" Glancing at him to be sure she had his full attention, Abby clicked on the mouse to bring up the next screen. "She changed her name legally three years ago, from Jones to Marshall. She's Louis Jones' step-sister. Her mother married his father the year after Jones and Lisa Sanders were divorced. You might want to bring her in, too, and ask why I found her fingerprints on the plastic her fiancé's body was wrapped in."
Gibbs rewarded her with a quick smile, kissing her cheek once more. "Good work, Abs. Remind me to thank you properly later."
"Oh, I will," Abby called after him, a smirk on her face. She set the information on screen to print and danced towards the office area of her lab, determined to get a head start on her report so she could enjoy their evening.
He watched her walk up to the front of the building and disappear inside, pleased she was alone.
Pleased he was.
Drew had decided against bringing Mikel back to his apartment and had instead left his former cellmate recovering in a motel not too far away. He felt a little bad at leaving his friend alone but those feelings of remorse disappeared when he realised it meant he got to spend some time with Abby without anyone else around.
He counted her steps mentally, glancing at his watch. He'd timed her several times and he knew exactly how long it took her to reach her front door, exactly how long it would be before he could imagine her entering her apartment and locking the door behind her.
Only now he didn't need to imagine.
Drew moved over to the television set and sat down on the chair he'd put in front of it. Turning it on, the screen flared to life, showing several live feeds from the cameras he'd spent all night and most of the day - when he'd not been at the prison - installing.
He watched her move from the front door to the living room, sitting on the edge of his seat as she shed her coat. He watched her kick off her shoes and let her purse fall on the couch and tracked her movements on the screens in front of him as she left her living room and walked through the apartment towards her bedroom.
It was the next best thing to being in the room with her, Drew decided, leaning forward eagerly as she went to the dresser and pulled out a bra and panty set from the top drawer, pausing to pick up the fluffy towel warming on the radiator in her bedroom before heading to the bathroom.
He watched her turn on the shower and adjust the temperature before she started removing her clothes. He imagined she was stripping for him as she undressed, that she knew he was watching and took off her clothes with a deliberate slowness for his benefit.
He watched with disappointment as she wrapped a towel around her and moved towards the door of the bathroom, having enjoyed the show. He kept watching as she stopped, her fingers a hairsbreadth from the door handle and felt his heart rise to his throat when she tensed.
She moved slowly, her eyes searching before finally seeming to rest on his, on the camera he'd planted in the ceiling of the room.
Remembering the new shampoo and conditioner she'd bought but left in her bedroom, Abby wrapped the towel she'd brought with her around her, securing it with a loose knot just above her breasts.
Chiding herself for being so easily distracted – thoughts of Gibbs, she mused with a grin, would do that to a girl – she crossed the bathroom floor and headed to the door.
The feel of something grainy under her bare foot caused her to freeze and she glanced down, frowning at the smattering of sawdust on the floor.
"Where did that...?" She tensed her back and shoulders against a shiver, feeling inexplicably as though she was being watched. Turning slowly, she scanned the bathroom for any sign of anything out of place, lifting her gaze instinctively to the ceiling.
At first she missed it, dismissing it as a trick of the light and steam from the shower. On second glance, though, she couldn't ignore it.
A tiny lens peeked through a small hole in the ceiling, watching her.
For a moment, she froze, nausea rising in her throat. She didn't want to move, didn't want to draw attention to herself but knew it was probably already too late.
Whoever was watching her would already know she knew.
Fumbling behind her for the door handle, she backed out of the bathroom, clutching the towel around her as her heart pounded. Once in the hall, she ran through to the living room, unable to shake the sensation that she was still being watched.
Her hands shook as she opened her purse, searching through it for her cell phone. Gibbs was still at the Navy Yard, she knew, along with the rest of his team, but she knew he'd be out of interrogation and be wrapping up the last loose ends before letting them all go for the evening.
It took two attempts at hitting the right button, her fingers trembling too much. As the phone she held to her ear began to ring, she walked over to the front door of her apartment, making sure the deadlocks were bolted and the security chain was in place.
"Gibbs."
"Gibbs, it's me. I need you to get over here right now. He's here," her words came out in an almost incoherent rush but she couldn't stop. "Please, please, please get over here. He's watching me, there's a camera in the bathroom and probably everywhere else, too..."
"Slow down, Abby, I can barely understand you." She heard him move in the background, his steps quickening. "We're on our way but you need to calm down and explain... Who's watching you? Who's put cameras...?"
"The creepy guy," Abby whispered, moving away from the front door as though expecting it to open at any moment. "He's been following me for weeks. I thought I was imagining it so I didn't tell you but now I know I'm not. There's a camera in my bathroom, Gibbs! I was just about to get in the shower! Oh, God, he probably watched me undress... I feel sick. Oh, God."
"Just breathe, Abby, we're on our way." Gibbs' voice was calm and soothing but she could hear the underlying fear he did his best to keep from her. And the anger, she knew, that she hadn't mentioned it before. "Tell me more about this guy. Where did you first see him?"
She explained everything hurriedly, from the first encounter in the coffee shop to all of the other times she'd seen him. She apologised repeatedly, too, for not telling him sooner but was too shaken to hear his reassurances that it was okay and that they were nearly there.
He'd no sooner told her that they were pulling up outside her apartment and on their way in when a loud bang caught her attention. She looked up and saw a shadowy figure at the living room window, banging on the glass from the fire escape outside.
"He's outside, Gibbs! He's on the fire escape!" She backed towards the front door, unable to take her gaze off the man banging on the window, trying to get in.
Relief mingled with fear when he disappeared and she turned hurriedly, unlocking the deadbolts and unfastening the chain as quickly as she could. She'd only just turned the key in the lock when the door opened and stumbled back a step, terror gripping her at the thought of her would-be assailant being on the other side.
It took a split-second for it to register that the person looking back at her was Gibbs and not the stranger who'd been following her but, when it did, Abby threw herself at him, clinging with all of her strength as she pressed her face against his chest, allowing the feel of his arms sliding around her waist and the sound of his heart beating under her ear calm her.
"Fire escape," she managed, her words muffled. "He was on the fire escape trying to get in."
"DiNozzo and McGee are checking," Gibbs told her, rubbing her back soothingly. He felt her shiver and tightened his arms around her, glancing over his shoulder at Ziva. "Ziva, go check out the bathroom." When his agent left to do as he'd ordered, Gibbs pulled back slightly from the trembling woman in his arms, tilting her face with a gentle hand under her chin. He studied her tear-filled eyes and gave into impulse, letting his lips brush against hers in a soft kiss before drawing her back against him. "You're okay, Abs. You're gonna be okay."
Ziva returned a few moments later, a grim expression on her face. "There is a camera in the bathroom," she confirmed, her dark gaze moving to rest on Abby's back. "I also believe there is a camera in the hallway, the bedroom and in here. There are traces of sawdust on the floors so I believe they've been inserted from the apartment above."
Abby shuddered again, a muffled sob escaping her as she pressed closer to Gibbs.
A breathless Tony and McGee arrived before Gibbs could continue, both looking at the black haired woman in concern.
"There was someone there," Tony told Gibbs, frustration and anger lining his face. "He had a car, managed to get away from us. Sorry, boss."
"Go check the apartment upstairs," their boss instructed them. "Ziva, call it in. Abby..." He eased her reluctantly out of his arms, moving his hands to rest on her bare shoulders, rubbing them reassuringly. "I'm gonna go upstairs and check things out, okay? Ziva'll stay with you. She'll be here if he comes back."
Abby nodded numbly, wrapping her arms around her middle as he moved away. She barely noticed when Ziva moved to her side, leading her to the couch with an arm around her waist, barely aware of anything but the sickening knowledge that the threat wasn't imagined, it was all too real.